Page 5 of Claimed By the Undercover Cops
“Then why are you still standing here?” Henry turns to me. “Same goes for you. Unless you’re a cop and can arrest her for trespassing, get the fuck out of here.”
Interesting, but as Blake reminded me, I can’t tell Henry. Also interesting… I’d love nothing more than to cuff his apparentlyex-girlfriend and fuck her. Gotta let that thought go for a lot of reasons.
She turns as if going to her car, but our eyes meet. She freezes.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
The tension held in her expression softens. Her eyes switch from shooting daggers to something much more welcoming. Can she tell what I’m thinking? Is she thinking it too? We’d be so—
No! I will not hit on my son’s ex minutes after their breakup. Correction, I will not hit on my son’s ex ever.
“Arrest her or get out of her way.” Henry pulls me from the trance.
Doing a quick assessment of the situation, I curse myself for getting lost in the ridiculous fantasy.
I’m standing between her and her car. The niceness in her eyes… she’s just trying to get me to move. Wow, how did I let myself think that a sparky, gorgeous woman half my age would be interested in me?
And why can’t I stop feeling like I need to make her mine?
“Move, old man.” Henry says, getting on my nerves.
She’s got me all messed up. I step backward, giving her a clear line to her car. Not like she couldn’t have gone around.
She looks at me curiously as she passes. I’m not sure what she sees, but she lowers her gaze, pokes me in the belly, and says, “Way to rock that dad bod.”
I can’t breathe. I’m consumed by a citrusy scent. It takes me a second to figure out it’s hers.
She and her friend, who I hadn’t noticed had gotten out of the car, get in and speed away, leaving me with my son.
Henry’s heading back into the house. It’s not going to get any less awkward. “Henry, wait a second.”
He whips around. “Do I know you?”
“I wish you did.” I wait as recognition dawns on him. Probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t texted him earlier today asking to meet up.
“Are you that creeper who’s been texting, saying you’re my dad?”
“Iamyour dad. I wasn’t sure how else to connect with you.”
“Why now?”
I spelled this out in a text, but I’ll start from the top. “I just found out about you.”
“You mean, you just found out about my mom’s life insurance policy?”
“I read about the car wreck. I’m truly sorry she died.”
“You can let the charade go. All of the life insurance money is gone.”
“Surely you can see the resemblance.” I motion between the two of us. I may be mad at his mom for a lot of things, but at least she had life insurance to take care of him after her death.
He puffs his chest, stands a little taller. Smirks. “Let it go, man. Even if you were my dad, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Okay, fair enough. Let me show you a picture from when I was your age.”
“Today’s not the day.”
“Can we set up a time to talk? Neutral ground… I saw a diner in town.”
