Filed to story: Help! I’m Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend Novel Free
I pout. “Didn’t you hear me? I need my adoring parents to shower me with attention and prove to me I’m the most perfect child ever.”
I should win an Oscar for my acting abilities. Seriously.
“Kri Collins is coming along, too.” Dad announces from behind his paper. “We’re going hunting.”
I restrain myself, trying very, very hard not to smile and launch into a victory dance. Score!
“I also invited Carolyn Somersby,” my mom adds, not realizing she’s about to end my world. “Remember her? The pretty widow from the Home and Garden book club?”
More restraint. Like, the Hulk not killing everything around him kind of restraint. What the f**k?
My dad folds his newspaper. “Your mother is playing matchmaker. She thinks Mrs. Somersby would be perfect for Kri.”
What the f**kity f**k?
My mom waves a hand at my dad, as if batting at a fly. “God knows Kri needs a woman. Have you seen his house lately? I swear he’s just been…” she sighs. “He looked distraught the last time I saw him.”
I bite my lower lip so I won’t blurt out the truth. I bet Mr. Collins has been looking so drawn because he feels guilty about f**king me behind my parents’ back. And now, what the hell is this? Who’s this bitch Carolyn? If she so much as winks at my Mr. Collins, I will snatch her bald.
I shrug negligently, giving the appearance of calm beyond the surface of my skin. “Whatever. Maybe the countryside will be good for me, help take my mind off things.” I’ll also watch over my man and get a few bites of nookie under everyone’s noses. That sounds like a good plan.
“You don’t need to unpack, dear.” My mom loads Dad’s coffee cup into the dishwasher and gets it going. “Just load your bag in the SUV. We’ll stop at Mal’s on the way to grab some supplies.”
“Yeah, sure.” I give another non-committal shrug. Inside, I’m steaming and bubbling with jealousy. There’s no way in hell I’ll let some widow in Mom’s frou-frou book club put the moves on my man.
Looks like this weekend will be entertaining…
A half hour later, we park in front of Mr. Collins’s house and I watch as he steps onto the porch, hand raised in welcome. His face is split with a broad smile, midday sun heating him, and his cheeks are touched with a bit of pink.
Damn, it’s only been a day, and I want to pounce on him.
Of course, that healthy glow he’s sporting drains away when he sees me next to the SUV. He recovers quickly, not quick enough to fool me, but it doesn’t seem like the parents notice. He’s got the perfect poker face.
He nods at me politely, acts indifferently as he always had before I brought him on a trip to panty-town.
“Hey, Harper. How’s school?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are burning with… something.
I shrug. “Good. Boring. The usual. How was Iraq?”
“Hot. Boring. The usual. Taking a break from class?” Which is, of course, his way of saying “what the f**k are you doing here?”
“Yeah. I was just in the mood for fresh air and a bit of greenery.” Translation: Your ass is mine this weekend.
He nods. “Sure, this is the perfect place to relieve some stress.” I know he can’t believe I had enough balls to pull this.
“Eh, school is taxing, and I need a break here and there.” Well, he better believe I’ve got balls, brass ones… the size of watermelons.
“You deserve a break.” His voice is low, and it kinda looks as if he’s talking through clenched teeth.
I smile. “I think I do, too.” And if I happen to f**k him stupid during my break, woo hoo for me.
A tremendous breath leaves his chest, and he seems to surrender with a sigh. He knows I can be a stubborn, willful, girl. “Are you hunting with us, too?”
My smile grows wider and, perhaps, a bit wicked. “Not with guns. I have my own brand of hunting in mind.”
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat. He doesn’t ask any further questions, just climbs into the SUV.
My dad is driving, and Mom surprises me by riding shotgun. I figured she would sit in back with me for some “girl talk.” I sit behind them with Mr. Collins. What I had imagined would be a fun ride just got insanely better. I’m mischievous at heart, and torturing my secret lover under my parents’ nose is what I call high quality, first rate entertainment.
I had expected the whore named Carolyn (okay, so I don’t really know she’s a whore) to ride with us, but to my relief Carolyn is meeting us there. Mr. Collins still doesn’t know about the whore’s existence.
But, the woman has a cabin near ours, so we’re going to be semi-cabin buddies.
Joy.
Not.
I relax a bit at hearing my competitor won’t be joining us. It gives me plenty of time to fine-tune my plan, Operation: Tease (and f**k) Mr. Collins.
The name isn’t as snazzy as I’d like, but there will be hard core results.
Earlier, before we’d all loaded into the SUV, I’d slipped behind the wheel and checked the driver’s field of vision in the mirror, joking with Dad that I’d take the wheel. He said not so much. By then, I’d already done all the recon I needed. God smiled on me. The driver can’t see what happens in the back seat below the passenger’s chest. So, one hour into the ride, Dad driving and Mom chattering like a bird in the other seat, I slouch and place my hand over Mr. Collins’s crotch.
He doesn’t jump, jerk, tense or startle like I’d anticipated. Maybe his military training has conditioned him to be collected and calm, hold his composure in every situation. Or perhaps he’d anticipated me pulling a few naughty tricks. I feel a little disappointed he hasn’t responded.