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“It’ll have to be someone old enough to stay overnight,” Ty suggested, “since you roll in sometime after two.”
“Do you mind a stranger staying in your house?” Cassie asked.
“Do you mind a stranger watching Daisy?” Heather countered.
Shit.
“There has to be someone we know. Someone we trust.” Tyler rose from his seat and gathered the empty plates and dirty silverware. “A neighbor? That would be convenient. Someone who could go home as soon as Cass returns from work.”
“But who?” Heather pursed her lips. “It would have to be someone without a day job, I would think.”
“Well, after tonight I’m off until Thursday afternoon. So, we have until then to find someone.”
Heather smacked her hands together sharply. “How about a college kid home from school for the holidays? No job. Needs the dough. Same attitude as Crazy Daisy. Doesn’t mind being up late at night...”
“A responsible college kid would be perfect. If we knew one,” Cassie said. “Maybe make sure it’s a girl, too, since Daisy might ask to play slap and tickle. Thank you very much, Ty. Can’t wait until you have one of your own, so I can pay you back in spades.”
Heather whacked Tyler in the gut, quickly getting rid of her husband’s smirk. “Okay, who’s got a college kid home in the neighborhood...” She tapped a finger against her lips.
“A female one, Heather,” Cassie reminded her. “Just for my peace of mind.”
Heather inhaled sharply and her face lit up. “The Martin’s daughter might have come home for Christmas. I swore I saw her car out in front of their house. I’m going to go call them.” She dashed from the room almost as quickly as Daisy. Then a second later, she peeked her head back in. “I’ll change the sheets in our room before we go, so you can have the master bedroom and you don’t have to share the spare bedroom with Daisy.” Then her sister was gone.
Sleeping by herself would be like heaven. Though, she wouldn’t doubt Daisy might try crawling into bed with her very early in the morning. The only other person she might want climbing into her bed...
“Anyone we know?” Tyler asked, wiping down the table with a sponge.
Cassie’s gaze slid from where Heather disappeared to her brother-in-law. “Hmm?”
“Was he anyone we know?”
“Nope. Just someone I met at the bar.”
“So, nothing serious.”
“No.”
“Sometimes a little random slap and tickle is good for you.”
Yes, sometimes. Earlier this morning seemed to be one of those times.
But that couldn’t happen again.
Nope. It couldn’t.
Or shouldn’t.
Because if it did, it would no longer be so random.
Right?
Chapter Twelve
Judge pounded on the door with the heel of his fist and dropped his head to stare at his boots.
He twisted it to the right for a second to glance at the CRV and one other car in the driveway.
Yeah, he hadn’t been invited but he really didn’t give a fuck.
He forced himself to leave her alone yesterday. But he’d checked with Dodge in a roundabout way to make sure Cassie had shown up for work. She had.
And, of course, he couldn’t text her because he didn’t have her fucking number. He definitely wasn’t asking Stella for it. Or Trip. Because that would throw red flags and his ass would be ridden until it was chapped.
What they did early Sunday morning in the dead of night was their fucking business and no one else’s.
He hadn’t followed her home Sunday night, either, for the first time since he found out she was working at Crazy Pete’s. He’d fought the instinct to do it and somehow won. Because if he had, she might have ended right back in his bed.
He needed some sleep so he could think clearly today and so did she.
He gave her some time and now, there he stood, on the porch of her sister’s house, banging on the goddamn door.
He should just fucking leave.
It was stupid to chase her.
He never chased women.
Never.
Through the lacy curtains, he saw a little tornado rushing toward the front door.
If he could see Daisy, she could see him. Now he couldn’t fucking leave even if he wanted to. Especially when she screamed, “It’s Judge!” at the top of her lungs and continued running down the hallway, sounding like a herd of buffalo.
Just as she flung the door open—he’d have to have a little discussion with her about doing that—he saw her mother peek her head out into the hallway from a room at the back of the house, possibly a kitchen, and her mouth drop open.
Yep, he was definitely not expected.
The door whipped open so quickly, it banged into the doorstopper making it twang loudly.
“Hi, Judge!” was squealed at dog whistle frequency.
At least somebody was happy to see him.
He stepped back but she kept coming and she ran right up to him, her little sneakered feet pressing right against the steel toes of his boots. Her head fell all the way back as she stared up at him, her eyes—the same blue as her mother’s—snapping with excitement. “Pick me up.”
