The Blind Date Landish, Lauren (read a book TXT) 📖

“Hmm,” I hum, “not worry. More like consider.”

“What else are you ‘considering’ right now?”

“I’m considering doing the dishes or leaving them for later. I’m considering taking you to the bedroom or staying right here on the couch to fuck you. I’m considering drawing a bath in that tiny tub of yours and seeing if we can both fit in there at the same time.” I pause, searching my mind. “Yeah, that’s about it. You?”

Riley’s cheek lifts against my chest, and I feel her smile though I can’t see it. “I’m considering calling my dad. I want this out in the open because you’re important to me, Noah. I heard all the things you told River, and I want you to know . . . me too. I want to spend time with you—need it, in fact. I’m happy by nature, but you make me happy by nurture. You feed my soul.”

I don’t know what comes over her, but she starts making adorably weird Cookie Monster gobbling noises, feigning at nibbling along my chest. “Nom-nom, my cookie. Soul cookie. Nom-nom-nom.” Her teeth nip my skin through my shirt, not hurting but letting me feel the pressure.

I bark out a laugh, my chest rumbling as I pull her tight against me. “Soul cookie? See, Sunshine . . . how could I resist that?”

She snuggles into me like a happy kitten. “You’re not supposed to.”

“Tell you what,” I say, smacking her ass sharply. She squeals happily, wiggling around to mock-glare at me. “You call your dad and I’ll do the dishes. And then I’ll meet you for that bath, we can go to bed, and I’ll nom-nom your cookie. Deal?”

Is this what flirting has become? With Riley, it is. Fun and silly and full of smiles. Later, she’ll love some dirty talk, but for now, the ridiculousness of it is what makes us both happy.

“Are we negotiating?” Riley teases with a coy lift of her shoulder.

“Nope. Call, bath, bed.”

She smiles, and I get up to give her a moment to make her call in private. I can hear her from the kitchen, but I do my best to tune out, letting her have the space to say what she needs to with her dad.

Raffy escorts me to the kitchen, knowing there’s a better shot that he’ll get a treat from me in the ‘food room’ than from Riley on the couch. The sink is full of dishes, the remnants of our family dinner stacked neatly. I turn on the hot water, rinsing the plates before loading the dishwasher.

I try not to listen, but I hear Riley say brightly, “Hi, Dad!”

I scrub the pots, pans, and serving platters before drying them and putting them away in the cabinets where they belong. Once everything is cleaned up, I lean against the counter and eye Raffy, who’s been watching patiently the whole time. “Fine, you want a biscuit?”

I grab one out of the cookie jar and sit on the floor, my back to the wall. Raffy climbs in my lap, taking the treat daintily and eating messily while I scratch behind his ears.

I don’t know how long I sit there with Raffy in my lap, but after a bit, I hear Riley call me. “Noah? Can you come here?”

“Guess that’s my cue, Raffy. Wish me luck,” I tell the fluffball. He rumbles in displeasure at being disturbed and having his scratches stopped but trails after me to the living room.

Riley is sitting on the couch, her phone propped up on the coffee table in front of her. Pointing at it, she tells me, “Come say hi to my dad. Dad, this is Noah. Noah, this is my dad, Joseph.”

I sit down, leaving a small space between my thigh and Riley’s, and tell the man on the screen, “Good to see you again, Mr. Watson.”

Joseph Watson is a formidable man, even on a small screen. His blond hair has gone grey at the temples and his blue eyes are surrounded by crow’s feet, but the width of his shoulders says he’ll defend his little girl to the death if need be. I hope it’s not needed at all.

“Noah! Good to see you too, though I’m sure I’ve told you to call me Joseph,” he says with a slight lift of his lips.

It’s a dominance test, same as any other. I dip my chin respectfully. “Of course, Joseph.”

His smile lifts incrementally. “So, Riley tells me you two are dating now? And that River got a little handsy?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir,” I say formally.

He chuckles. “River will tell it differently, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure by the time he’s done, it’ll sound like he beat the shit out of me, leaving me for dead in a pool of my own blood,” I agree.

“Yeah, he’s good like that. Look, I’ve got a meeting to rush into.” Joseph holds up a finger to someone offscreen. “I’ll just say my piece . . .” His voice goes slow and deadly. “Don’t hurt my little girl or I’ll have to hurt you. And I know people, Son. People with a particular set of skills. They’ll never find your body.” Then he smiles brightly as if that never happened, and I realize he was half-joking with the Liam Neeson reference. “But really? I’ve known you for years, Noah, and you’ve always done right by River, so I wouldn’t expect anything less with Riley.”

“Dad! All the threats and innuendoes are not necessary,” Riley argues.

“Understood, Mr. Watson.”

“You kids behave,” he says. “’Bye, honey. ’Bye, Noah.”

Riley is still rolling her eyes as she tells her dad goodbye, but I understand the protective streak in him. I’ve got one myself . . . for my mom, sister, and now, Riley. “’Bye, Joseph.”

And then the call is disconnected.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry about that. What is it with guys and all the chest beating, argh-argh-argh stuff?” Riley complains.

I shrug, unconcerned. “Who we are, Sunshine. Like asking you not to smile. Just can’t be helped. It’s what we do.”

She sighs and reclines on the couch. The bath can wait while I have