“No. Although that woman tried to ruin my marriage.”
“How?” Julianna’s eyes light up as she scoots forward, wanting all the dirty details.
That’s not a conversation to be had in front of my fifteen-year-old daughter. “We’re not discussingBridget,” I say with a sneer. “That woman has been nothing but a menace.”
That sick, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach won’t disappear. Is that why Cali is here? To destroy my reputation and the business I just helped turn around and get off the ground?
Blue Sky Resort had its share of problems over the past decade, with a hostage situation among one of the worst incidents. But I believed I could turn the place around and breathe new life into it. Was I wrong?
“Well, I can assure you, Mr. Henderson, that my video review will be honest and genuine. Whatever bad blood is between you and Bridget, it will not be reflected in the final product.”
I want to be relieved, but I can’t. Not until I see what’s put out for the world to view.
“I appreciate that, and for the umpteenth time, please call me Logan.”
“Of course,” she says, and her cheeks redden.
Dinner is brought to the table, and Julianna doesn’t so much as touch her food. She keeps glancing between Cali and me.
“Dad, is it okay if I take my dinner upstairs?” Julianna asks.
Is something wrong? Is she not feeling well? “Why?” I ask.
“The sexual tension between the two of you is palpable. I know you’re angry with what Mom did,” Julianna says, staring at me. “But Cali is cute, and as far as I know, she’s single. Enjoy your night together. Just don’t stay out past curfew.”
Before I can tell my daughter to sit her ass back down and demand she keep me company, the kid grabs her plate and silverware, hightailing it out of the restaurant.
“I think we just got set up on a date,” Cali says. Her tongue darts out and licks the corner of her lips. She places her fork down on the table.
“Is something wrong with your meal?”
“No, I just—I can ask the waitress to box it and take it back to my room.”
I take a bite of the Chilean Seabass, and the homemade sauce drizzled on top is absolutely astounding. The chef outdid himself again.
“Why would you do that?” I ask, glancing up at Cali. “Just because my daughter bailed doesn’t mean that you have to leave. Besides, I doubt you can carry your food and manage the crutches up to your room.”
Her eyes narrow. She knows I’m right. “I was trying not to make this any more awkward than it already is,” Cali says.
“Why’s it awkward?” I take another bite and try the homemade garlic mashed potatoes.
“Other than you hate me?” She laughs nervously, and she avoids my stare as she picks at her food.
“Do you not like your meal?” I ask, commenting on her pushing food around her plate.
She forces a smile. “The meal isn’t the problem.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?” I ignore her remark. I refuse to be the problem. I haven’t done anything wrong. At least not today. I saved her ass outside in the cold and snow.
Cali sighs and takes a bite of mashed potatoes, trying to make a point. She moans at the first bite, and whatever stubbornness that’s been latched on like a leech finally releases itself. “Gosh, that’s good. Better than sex,” she mutters, and takes another bite.
Her eyes close, and the moan she elicits makes my cock hard.
Is she riling me up on purpose?
Does she realize what she does, the power she has over me?
“I don’t think any meal could be better than sex.” I have to disagree with her.