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“Love at first sight,” Dario goes on. “It’s a wonderful thing.”
“Itwouldbe.”
Dario takes a sip of his whiskey. “True.”
* * *
We sit in the dining room, Dario and I facing each other, Rosa to my left and Emma to my right. When Emma brings a spoonful of soup to her mouth and blows on it, I wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. Does she know how beautiful she looks with her lips pursed? She is so sexy when her cleavage shifts as she leans over her bowl. How cute with her curly hair tucked behind her ear, making me want to stroke it with my hand and tuck more of her hair away.
“This is delicious,” she says. “Thank you, and please thank the chef for me, too.”
“I will,” I say huskily, forcing myself to look away.
We haven’t made eye contact yet. I intend to keep it like that. I couldn’t handle looking into her eyes and seeing doubt there—judgment for pushing us so fast.
“So, Dad, youhaveto give us your opinion of Emma.”
Dario drops his spoon into his soup. My mind flashes back to when he was a kid, dropping his plastic baby spoon in his food bowl, Mom laughing and beaming at Dad.
“Dammit,” Dario mutters, wiping at his shirt.
“So clumsy, Uncle Dee.”
“Butter fingers, that’s me.”
“So?” Rosa says, turning back to me.
“My opinion?” I whisper, my heart pounding.
My daughter is forcing me to lie to her, but that’s unfair. She’s notforcinganything.
I’ve made the decision now to tell her. I’ve decided to keep hungering for her friend.
“Her accounting work,” Rosa goes on.
“She’s excellent,” I say quickly. “Very good. Very clever. She’s going places.”
Dario shakes his head subtly at me.Too much, bro.
Rosa beams, smiling at Emma. “Hear that? What an endorsement.”
Emma smiles, but there’s a shakiness to it. I wish we were alone, so I had a chance to read her. If wewerealone, I couldn’t stop myself from doing everything else. I’d bend her over again, strip her, and reveal that round, juicy-as-fuck ass. I’d spank her repeatedly so that her thickness ripples for me in that captivating fashion, drawing me in, making it impossible to experience guilt, at least while we’re together. Then I’d kiss her, tasting those perfect lips. The texture of them, the desire.
“Dad?” Rosa is saying.
“Hmm?” I reply.
“I was saying when the stuff is over.”
I’m pretty surestuffmeans war.
“We can take a trip, all of us. Somewhere nice.”
“That would be great.”
It really would, I reflect as we eat. It would be great if Rosa, Dario, Emma, and I could go away together. Rosa would know about Emma and me, somehow condoning it and approving or maybe more encouraging andsupporting. She’d also be eagerly anticipating the day Emma gets pregnant. She’d want to experience that love.
“How’s work, anyway?” Rosa asks.
