I feel my face go red.
Hannah grabs the muffin from me, rips off a chunk, and holds it in both hands like a squirrel. “That’s him, isn’t it?” she asks, nodding to my phone, which is lighting up on my desk.
McCarthy:Where’s my driver?
“He so wants a booty call.”
“You think?”
“Tell him to send over more muffins.”
I resistthe urge to open up my Pinterest wedding page.
Maybe McCarthy’s come to his senses and he’s calling me over to his office to belittle and berate me, put me in my place.
Except his face lights up when he sees me.
He holds up Truman, who is wearing a brand-new RDC doggie T-shirt.
I can’t help the beaming smile, the way the tension leaves my body just from seeing McCarthy.
He sweeps me in his arms and kisses me. “I love that you come when I call. I might have to keep you on full-time. What do you think about that, hmm?” He hums against my mouth.
After picking me up, he spins me around as he kisses me again, like he can’t get enough of me.
I sink into the softness of his mouth.
He chuckles, and it vibrates through my chin.
Truman’s cold nose presses to my cheek.
“Stop, Truman. This is my girl. I’m kissing her. You can have sloppy seconds,” he jokes to the dog then kisses me one more time before Truman slobbers all over my face.
Wrinkling my nose, I fish out a Kleenex from the little pouch on my Stanley cup.
“You can’t call a ride-share?”
“I’m stuck here without you. I need a pretty girl to drive me around, one with a filthy mouth.”
“You just want someone to call you a passenger princess.” I jingle the keys at him. “Where do you want me to drive you? And it better not be to go get in another fight in the middle of the street.”
“Unless you want me to fuck you in the car, you better take us home,” he whispers in my ear as we head down to the sunlight-filled lobby.
“New car?” I ask as we get in after the valet pulls it around.
“I bought it on the off chance that you came to your senses and realized a muffin is not what your heart desires.” His arms wrap around me when we stop at a light.
As he kisses my neck, I see something in the mirror and tense up. “Is that…” I say before I can stop myself.
McCarthy locks in on the tension, stiffening, on high alert.
“It’s nothing!” I chirp, pulling him in for a quick kiss before the light turns green.
Because, after all, it’s only my dad, who, for some reason, is heading toward the RDC offices.
39
MCCARTHY
