Page 17 of Close Your Eyes
I should just thank him for the update, but instead, I text back…
And here I thought you were missing me, but you’re acting like Sherlock Holmes, trying to solve the case. I appreciate it.
Maybe I do miss you.
Heat travels through me while reading his message. I want to bathe in the thrill I’m feeling right now. It’s dangerous, but exciting. I shouldn’t respond, but how can I not? My fingers tap away at the screen, writing out a response.
I’m sure you miss many women.
Ledger’s undeniable good looks probably result in him having many women he texts every day. His phone must buzz constantly from admirers. His captivating dark eyes, his allure and charm, and his chiseled features must make him a chick magnet.
I’m not a many women kind of guy.
Surprising. I raise a brow as I read his message again.
Really? Working at a sex club, I’d think you have many women on your roster.
That’s where you’re wrong.
I surprise myself when I type back a simple word—
Why?
“Want to go inside?” my father asks, and I shove my phone into my purse, not wanting my father to question me about who I’m texting.
It would be the worst if my dad accidentally spilled the beans to Bane about me texting someone. My father would never deny my trust, and if I told him to keep a secret, he would, but I’d rather not have to cross that bridge.
My phone dings in my purse, but I’m already standing, heading back into the house. Before moving in with Bane, I lived here with my father.
Sunlight streams in through the lace curtains, casting a soft glow across the well-loved furniture. There are still family photos lining the walls. Most of them are pictures of my mother and me.
We head into the kitchen, the heart of the home, and I grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Are you still working at the docks?” I ask my father, wondering if he’s still keeping his job with Don Jones. Don’s the dock manager, and my father’s had on-and-off employment with him most of my life. Loading and unloading ships. Making sure the infrastructure of the docks held up to safety protocols. Even cleaning the bathrooms. He’s done it all.
My father’s weathered face smiles as he glances at me. “I’m working there on the weekends. Don needed help because a few workers quit. So, I told him I’d help him out for a few months.”
I roll my eyes. “Dad, you need to stay on with Don. Maybe get a full-time job with him.”
My father scrubs a hand down his face. “Maybe I will. I just want to get time off for your wedding and to be there for you.”
“You’re always here for me, Daddy,” I say, patting his shoulder. “I appreciate all you do for me.” And I do. My father may have a gambling problem, but he also stepped up when my mother hauled ass out of town. He was there for me growing up, being the best father he could be.
“Are you hungry? I was just about to make a small dinner.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a package of deli meat. “I can make you a sandwich.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, nodding.
My father busies himself making two turkey sandwiches as I grab my phone out of my purse, unable to resist the urge to see what Ledger said back to me.
I swipe my phone open and see two unread messages from him.
Sex may be my job but doesn’t mean I’m not picky.
And in case you’re wondering, it’s been a while.
His messages make my eyes pop and the way he just shared that personal information makes my insides tingle as I type my reply.
Well, it’s been forever for me.