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“Well, let’s hope it’s at least longer than a month this time.”
“You and me both, kid. Use your club card when you go to the store for Saturday. Ghost has the ladies doing the rest. Just drop it off at the clubhouse.” He kisses the back of my head again before turning a smirk and head nod towards Sasha and heads out the door.
After Dad leaves, the weight of what he’s said hits me like a ton of bricks.
Ringer is coming home.
My cheeks heat and butterflies take flight in my stomach. Ringer may be a bit older than I am, but every wicked fantasy I’ve ever had since turning 13 has involved that man.
He got locked up eight years ago right after I turned 15.
Sasha’s voice pulls me from my Ringer-induced fog. “I know he’s your dad and all, but that man is fine with a capital F.” She fans herself with the hand towel she’s using to clean the work bench.
“Gross! He’s like 40-something,” I giggle.
“Yeah girl, and I’m like 30-something. He has daddy vibes written on his forehead.”
“Okay, I’m going to need you to stop right the fuck now before I throw up. I will never be able to call my own dad ‘Daddy’ ever again.” I feign barfing all over the floor.
“Shit, I will,” Sasha purrs. I give her the nastiest expression I can muster while cleaning up my work station. “Lilah, in all seriousness,” she continues with a serious expression, “I have the biggest crush on your dad. I know that’s weird to you but he does not look forty-something. That man ages like fine wine.”
I’ve gotten this my entire life. Girls always think my dad’s hot. I don’t see it. Sure, my dad isn’t ugly. But he’s my dad. I don’t think of him that way. He was only 19 when he knocked up Renee. I had girlfriends growing up that always wanted to stay the night at my house, just so they could catch a glimpse of him with his shirt off.
Gross.
“So come to the party with me on Saturday. Shoot your shot,” I say with a shrug.
“At your dad? He would laugh right in my face! I’m definitely not his type. I’ve seen the girls at the club.”
“You’ll never know unless you try, and Renee isn’t around to be a cockblocking snake. Besides,” I add, “it’ll be nice to have someone I actually like around my dad.”
“Maybe I will come. You know, just to keep you company.” She throws a wink over her shoulder.
“It’s a date! Plus, you can come shopping with me. Lord knows I’m going to need the extra help with the amount of people that need to be fed.”
Sasha turns the music back on and we work for the next hour. I place the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and do my closing routine to prepare everything for my baker that comes in overnight to bake for the next day.
Locking up the shop, I turn towards my sleek black 1969 Dodge Charger that my dad’s club brother, Trigger, restored for me. If the bakery is my first baby, that car is my second.
I have Sasha follow me to my house and am not surprised to see Dad’s truck parked in the driveway. I pull in next to the older pickup and cut my engine. Stepping out of my car, I turn to see Sasha parking her small Jetta on the street.
“I’ve worked with you for almost three years, and I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve ever been to your house,” Sasha says while shoving her keys into her purse. “It’s so cute.”
“This was my grandparents' house before they died. My dad moved back in after he finally left my mom,” I reply and motion for her to follow me around the side of the garage to the door leading up to my space. “He fixed up the apartment above the garage for me when I turned 18.”
“Privacy without having you too far away. Smooth move, Mr. Neil.”
Flipping the lightswitch on, I throw my bag on my large red couch. “Make yourself comfortable! Give me a second to change before we run to the store,” I say with a laugh as I gesture to my black yoga pants that are covered in flour.
After running water over my face, I step into the large walk-in closet my dad attached to my room. He was able to turn the second small bedroom into a large closet connecting my bedroom to the bathroom. I step into a pair of cutoff shorts I made out of jeans from a thrift store and pull a cropped Led Zeppelin tee over my head. Grabbing my red Doc Martens and a pair of socks, I head back into the main room.
“Do you want me to follow you back to your house so you can change before we head to the store?” I ask Sasha as I pull on my boots.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m heading to the gym when we’re finished. My bag is in my car.”
Grabbing my dad's truck keys, I lock up behind us.
“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Next time you go shopping, you need to take me with you. I need a wardrobe change,” Sasha remarks. I look over and see her eyeing my outfit on our way down to the truck.
