We’re back at the hotel, and I’m in the kitchen making us some coffee. After we’d finished lunch at the diner, there was still an hour to kill before I have to pick Dozer up, so I brought Mia back to the hotel and downloaded the info I found. I printed the details off while Mia went to change out of her torn t-shirt.
She gave me my shirt back before she went to change. I’m not ashamed to say I smelled it once she’d walked away.
It smelled amazing. Total jerking off material.
Seriously, if Mia Monroe were a bottled scent, I’d spray it all over my pillows. And my clothes. Hell, I’d spray it on myself.
When she came back from changing, she was freshly showered, and her hair was still a little damp, vanilla scent floating around her. She was wearing a pale pink tank top and ass hugging jeans, and my cock nearly sprang from my jeans. She looked fucking gorgeous.
It took me a good few minutes to get my head working properly before I could sit down with her and start looking over the details. She’d seemed quiet while I talked her through what I’d printed off, so I left her sitting outside on the porch, thinking she maybe needed a few.
Hence the reason I’m in here making coffee.
I figure she’ll just be processing things. I can’t begin to imagine how it must feel to know that your mom abandoned you.
I’ve never been abandoned, but dying mothers I have down to pat.
My real mom, Abbi, died in childbirth. She had a heart problem that they didn’t know about, and the stress of giving birth to me killed her.
She wasn’t married to Dad. They were young, in a steady relationship, but my dad hadn’t kept it covered, so nine months later it was hello Jordan.
After Abbi died, Dad raised me alone with the help of my grandpa. When I was two, Belle, my step-mom who I always refer to as mom as she’s the only one I ever known, came back to town, and her and dad got back together. Dad and Mom were childhood sweethearts. Mom left town to go to college, but Dad stayed here and went to the police academy. Before she left they broke up, and that was when he met Abbi and had me.
Mom died four years ago, and he hasn’t looked at another woman since.
Dad has had such a rough time in his life. He’s lost two women he loved. I think losing both of them has killed his faith in love. Totally understandable.
And that’s why I stay single. I only bother with a woman when I need to get laid.
The phone starts to ring. “Golden Oaks.”
“Hey son, how you doing?”
“Hey Dad, I’m good. How’s Grandpa doing? He driving you crazy yet?”
He laughs. “Of course. You know your Grandpa. How are things at the hotel?”
“Yeah, good. We’ve got a guest staying at the moment. She’s here for two weeks.”
“She?” Silence. “You’ve got a woman staying there right now?”
“Yes, Dad.” I sigh.
“Is she alone?”
“Yep.”
“How old is she?”
“I don’t know, around my age, maybe a few years younger.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Jesus, Dad.” I sigh again. “I don’t know her relationship status—” A lie. “—because I don’t need to. I’m not gonna touch her, okay? She’s not my type.”
That one is a small lie. Mia isn’t my usual type. She’s so much more.
“Every girl is your type, Jordan.”
“Not every girl!” I scoff. “I would never sleep with an ugly girl. Jeez, give me some fuckin’ credit, Dad.”
“Jesus, Jordan, do you have to cuss so much?”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
How do parents have the ability to turn you from a grown ass man into a teenager in the matter of seconds?
“So, she’s ugly then?” he says, starting in again.
“Who?” I play out.
He lets out a loud sigh. “The girl you have no intention of trying to get into bed.”
“Well … no, she’s not what I would call ugly…”
He laughs. Loudly.
It really pisses me off.
“Look, I know you think I’m a fuck up, and I know that’s my fault, but I am fully capable of keeping my hands to myself. I’m staying away from this girl. She’s a guest. End of.”
“Whoa, calm down, son. First off, I do not think you’re a fuck-up. You hear me? I just worry about you. Parent’s privilege. I just want you to be happy, but you always seem to look for happiness in all the wrong places. More so recently.”
This is getting a little deeper than I like. I don’t do deep. Especially not with my dad.
I lean my arm against the wall and rest my forehead on it.
I blow out a breath. “I’m fine, Dad. I’m happy. Look, I have to go. Say hi to Grandpa for me, will you?”