by JL Simpson
Sherman nodded and Paul tugged his t-shirt up to show the three inch scar left by the knife and subsequent surgery. Sherman ran a finger over the puckered skin. “You are so bad arse.”
Daisy reached forward and cuffed him around the head. “Language.”
“You say worse every day.”
“And I put my fines in the jar. When you get a job and can afford to pay, you can swear all you like, until then keep it clean.”
Sherman rolled his eyes. “She’s been like this for weeks. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to spend the weekend with Solomon.”
Paul frowned. “To get away from your mother?”
“No to get away from listening to you two having sex all weekend. It’s going to take a lot to put her in a good mood.”
Daisy glared at Sherman. “I thought you were of the opinion we didn’t have sex.”
Sherman shrugged. “If you can’t beat them, join them.”
Paul laughed and Daisy cuffed him around the ear as well. “Don’t encourage the child.”
Solomon came jogging down the stairs and met them in the hallway. “Well if you’ve all said your goodbyes, I’ll be taking my godson off your hands for a couple of days.”
Sherman lifted a backpack off the hall table. “I’m ready when you are.”
Daisy grabbed Solomon’s arm. “You will look after him, won’t you?”
“Like he was my very own. Don’t worry yourself, I have a lot of wisdom to impart to young Sherman.”
“About?”
“We’re going to try our hand at fishing.”
Daisy frowned. “Fishing?”
“Why not? It’s a grand sport.”
Solomon stepped out of the front door. “Now don’t you two be worrying about a thing. Up you go and get naked. We’ll close the door behind us.”
Sherman gave Paul another hug and Daisy scored a kiss on the cheek. “Later, dudes.”
Daisy linked arms with Paul and leaned against him. “Have fun.”
Sherman smiled. “You know we will. See you both on Sunday night.”
The front door closed and Daisy could hear Sherman’s excited chatter about getting to be a passenger in Solomon’s Aston Martin. He probably wouldn’t even miss them.
Paul smiled at Daisy. “Shall we?”
“What, now?”
“Yes, now. Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
Daisy giggled and ran up the stairs. Paul followed at a more sedate pace. By the time he made it inside the bedroom door, she’d already stripped down to her underwear. She’d put on the red lacy set she knew was his favorite. Paul paused in the doorway, his gaze devouring her. “We should stay in here all weekend.”
“You can stay here if you like and I’ll look after you.”
Paul pulled his t-shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes. “Are you offering to be my sex slave?”
Daisy flopped backwards on the bed. “I’ll be your anything slave.”
Paul flung his t-shirt aside and got to work on his pants, making short work of stripping them off. Daisy giggled with delight when Paul lost his underwear and crawled onto the bed, trapping her beneath him. Regardless of whether he’d followed Solomon’s advice or not, there was no doubt he was very happy to see her. So happy she wondered if he had any blood left in the rest of his body. They kissed long and slow before he moved to nuzzle her neck and nibble her earlobe. She sighed with pleasure when he tugged her bra strap down and cupped her breast with his hand.
A growl filled the room and she giggled. “You never used to be a growler. I think I like it.”
Paul lifted his head from her neck and frowned. “I didn’t growl.”
Daisy eased up and looked over his shoulder before shoving Paul off her. He flopped on his back. “What’s up?”
“Johnny’s watching us.”
“What?”
“I can’t relax and have sex with the dog watching.”
Paul sighed and got to his feet. “I’ll put him in the garden.” Paul stepped into his boxer shorts and pulled them up over his hips. “Don’t you go anywhere.”
Daisy smiled. “I’ll be right here waiting.”
Paul dragged the dog out of the room by his collar and Daisy rolled onto her stomach and stretched out. Everything in her life was perfect. Paul was home. Nothing else mattered as long as they were together.
Banging sounded on the front door and Daisy sat up. Whoever was hammering away was fairly determined. Bugger. She yelled for Paul but got no answer. With a sigh, she got to her feet, grabbed her robe from the back of the bedroom door, slipping it on and tying the belt as she jogged down the stairs. She opened the door. “No need to break the door down.”
The man on the doorstep glared at her. “I’m here to see Paul Dunlop.”
Daisy stared at the man. Shit. “He’s not here. He left. Joined the Navy. Ran away to sea.”
Harry Alsop pinned her with a stare that was pure Solomon. Now she knew where his CIA interrogator look had come from. Like father, like son.
The back door slammed and Daisy turned her head. She needed to get rid of Harry before he spotted Paul. “Go away.”
“Not until I speak to Paul Dunlop.”
A warm hand massaged the back of Daisy’s neck. “I’m Paul Dunlop. What can I do for you?”
“Why did you send me a message about Etainn Liffey on Armed Forces Reunited?”
Paul looked from Harry to Daisy. “Daisy, do you know who this man is and what he’s talking about?”
Daisy chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe.”
“Does Solomon know?”
Harry frowned. “Who’s Solomon?”
Daisy shoved Paul back into the house and smiled at Harry. “No one. Nice to meet you. See you around.” She slammed the door and turned to face Paul.
He was stood with his arms folded. “Do you know what that man was talking about?”
“It was an accident.”
“You accidentally found Solomon’s dad?”
“Yes. Sort of. I wasn’t looking for him.”
Harry started hammering on the door and Paul let out a loud sigh. “I suggest you let him in. I’m going to get dressed.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Diminutive English rose, JL Simpson, was stolen away by a giant nomad and replanted in a southern land filled with gum trees and kangaroos. She quickly adapted to her new life, learning the meaning of “G’day” and “mate” whilst steadfastly refusing all attempts to convert her to Vegemite.
A hunger for exploration awoken by her new surroundings, she traversed the land seeking knowledge and adventure. Despite the trials and tribulations along the way she stood fearless in the face of calamity and embarrassment. With a joyous laugh, and a boundless supply of scones with cream and jam, she stood tall, all fifty-eight inches of her, and shrugged off the humiliation of falling in a freezer and reversing into her own mailbox.
Her desire to experience the world led her to embrace a life of crime. Seeking the higher knowledge shared by the great minds of the detective world, she took to worshipping at the altars of the Crime and Investigation c
hannel and Sherlock.
A dive into family history and heir hunting soon followed, where she discovered not every family has roots back to English nobility but they all have their fair share of ne’er-do-wells.
She loves sharing tales about the land of her birth along with the unexpected twists of fate that can befall all of us. Holding on to a steadfast belief every obstacle can be overcome, and that you can be more than you ever expected, she spends her moments of solitude creating adventures where mystery and mayhem collide.
Find me on Facebook or at my website http://www.jlsimpson.com