Page 7 of A Daddy to Love

I grabbed my cold Coke and wrapped my sweating palms around it for an anchor.

As I lowered my eyelids and tried to focus on my glass, I could still see the entire bar through my eyelashes. When the crowd parted like a pre-choreographed dance of masculine bodies, the path through them led right past my table.

I inhaled sharply and held my breath. There he was. Striding forward, a smile playing at his perfect lips, that sleek dark hair, and a sage green vest showing off tanned biceps. Black pants hugged narrow hips; boots clomped across the wood flooring. Even the music seemed to pause for him.

Of course, that had to be my imagination.

As Truce walked, his hands gestured in greeting toward people he knew. It was a lot of people. He moved in magnificence, like this world was his. A natural species not contrived. He didn’t wear a uniform of leather, or a mask of makeup, or look like anyone else in the bar. He was… Truce.

My chest tightened as his steps brought him closer. To me.

I couldn’t believe it. Before my eyes he was so close he practically brushed my table with his hip. And then he was looking right at me.

“Hi, Sweetheart. I love cats.”

Cats? What? I blinked up at him. “Uh… uh…”

His finger quirked toward Pinkster. The air went still and tight in my lungs. Nothing came out. Just those first two squeaks.

In a beautiful low voice, he said, “Glad you came back.”

His smile filled his face. It was a smile directed entirely toward me.

I wanted to reply. I wanted to be braver than I was. But I didn’t know how. This was all abnormal for me. My life didn’t have things happen like this. I was privileged and spoiled maybe, but not in any social surroundings. It had been six years since I’d been in high school and I’d hated it. In my senior year, I had a tutor four days a week and only showed up for real classes on Fridays.

Truce paused as if waiting for me to do something. Say something. When I couldn’t, he turned and sauntered away. All my muscles went limp. Air shooshed from my throat in relief. But that didn’t last because disappointment soon crowded into my heart. Disappointment in myself.

At least he’d noticed me. I could live off that look he had given me, and that smile like fresh oxygen for days. Weeks, maybe. He’d seen me. Me? He’d called me sweetheart.

My fingers curved against the flat tabletop. Kimmie suddenly plopped in the chair next to me, forehead sweat-damp, teeth showing from a grin as he caught his breath.

“It’s wild out there.”

I cleared my throat. “Oh?”

He frowned. “You look upset.”

I drew back. “Nope.”

“Did you see Truce come in again?”

I nodded.

“It’s always a fanfare. I’m surprised spotlights don’t pave his way. It’s funny.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“You should come out on the dance floor. Come with me.” He squirmed and bounced in his seat. “We can dance together. Bring the cat.”

That was when it finally dawned on me. Truce had said he liked cats. I didn’t get it until now. He hadn’t noticed only me, he had noticed Pinkster as well. My toy. He knew I was a little and he still said hi.

My mind rose out of its fog and began to sway. The room spun a little. This had to be a dream. Or I was drunk on Coke.

“Come on, Kairo.” Kimmie grabbed my hand.

I got up and let him pull me into the seething crowd. But I barely registered the gyrating bodies and sparkly dance lights.

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