Page 47 of Dip's Flame


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I do, indeed, put him on speaker.

“Father, did you need something?” I ask.

As much as I hate the man, I’d rather not fight with him. All it does is give me a headache, and I’ve got one of those already.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Denver, Colorado,” I answer honestly. It was never my intention to hide from anyone. I just didn’t want to be bothered.

“She’s actually at my house, sir,” Dip adds, very unhelpfully. “Well, more specifically, she’s on our club’s compound, where my house is located.”

I elbow Dip in the ribs, and he laughs.

“Kennedy, are you in danger,” Father barks. I get a mental image of him bristling with indignation, and it makes me chuckle. “If you’re in danger, I can help you.”

“I’m not interested in your brand of help,” I remark dryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Father, you tried to set me up with a man less than twenty-four hours after I buried my husband. All you care about is marrying me off again so that the church doesn’t excommunicate you for having a disobedient daughter.”

“I fail to see the problem with that.”

“You would,” Dip snorts.

“Would you please take me off speaker?”

“No, I won’t. But I will end the call. Goodbye, Father.”

I hang up and toss my phone toward the end of the bed.

“Well, he’s friendly,” Dip says conversationally.

Now it’s my turn to snort. “He’s a self-righteous jerk.”

“Did your parents really try to set you up the day after your husband’s funeral?”

“Yep.”

“That’s cold.”

“That’s the life I had.”

“You’re right, it’s the one you had,” he agrees. “But it’s not the one you’re making.”

I smile. “No, it’s not.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to have you in my bed and not get you naked?” he asks.

Maybe it’s the pain pills or maybe it’s just Dip, but his question has my head swimming.

C’mon, Kennedy. It’s the life you had, not the one you’re making. Soak up what he’s agreed to give you.

“What’s stopping you?” I counter, feeling brazen.

Dip growls as he shifts me to sit between his legs, my back to his front. “I’m stopping me. You were punched in the face today, given pain medication, and potentially have a concussion. There will be no sexy shit going on in this bed tonight.”

“What about tomorrow?”

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