Carter Deveraux was going to kill his sister. No more blind dates, no more harassing him till he agreed. He wouldn’t have to put up with Emma’s pestering because she wouldn’t be around to pester him anymore. He would make sure of it.
“Carter?”
The woman standing beside his table had to be at least half his age. Maybe more, given he was fifty and she didn’t look like she was out of her teens. That might just be the clothes, though; the barely knee-length plaid skirt she wore was more suited to a Catholic schoolgirl than a dinner at a restaurant listed in the top ten of New York City. Come to think of it, so was the tight white button-down. And God almighty, she was wearing knee socks.
Thank God he hadn’t taken her to the Prime—Linc would never let him hear the end of this.
He belatedly realized he was still sitting and came to his feet. “Chloe?” Was that the name Emma had given him? Or maybe it was Zoey? All the women she’d set him up with were starting to run together at this point, which probably meant he should take a long, long break from dating.
As he pulled out the woman’s chair, trying hard not to stare down the deep vee of her open shirt, he amended that thought. A permanent break would be best, at least if it was Emma engineering the dates.
“Zoey.” She smiled up at him, her lips a soft pink that reminded him of his cousin’s youngest daughter. He tried hard to shake that thought as he returned to his seat.
“I apologize, Zoey. It’s nice to meet you.”
Their waiter came by with the bottle of Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc he’d ordered before Zoey arrived, and Carter resisted the urge to card his own date to verify her age.
And he’d thought having a ten-year-old son made him feel old. He couldn’t resist rubbing a hand over the beard that covered his jaw—a beard that was more white than dark blond these days—as he stared down at the menu. Emma had to have set him up with Zoey just to mess with him. This wasn’t about making up for Carter being alone while Thad was with his mother for the weekend. This was about Emma fucking with her older brother, and when he finally escaped this nightmare of a date, he was going straight to wherever his sister was and strangling her.
After they ordered, Carter poured Zoey a glass of the wine, sticking to water himself. “Where did you say you knew Emma from?” His sister seemed to know everyone and made friends as easily as other people breathed.
Zoey fingered a strand of her silky blonde hair, which he had to admit was eye-catching as it fell over her shoulders. “We met at Zen.”
Of course they had. Emma’s favorite bar, right around the corner from her apartment. Sometimes he thought she spent more time there than she did at home. Of course, she didn’t cook, so Zen’s above-average kitchen made meals convenient. And everyone loved her there. Literally the entire bar lit up when she came in.
That was his sister for you. Life of the party—and the source of trouble, always.
“Oh. When was that?”
“Last week.”
As Zoey told the story of meeting a group of friends at the bar, then striking up a conversation with Emma over martinis, he resisted the urge to lecture her on the dangers of trusting people in the city, particularly on dates. He wasn’t her parent, after all.
Not that she seemed bothered by their age difference. She was currently fingering her wineglass as she stared up at him adoringly. That look had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“So…you’re a daddy.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m a father, yes.”
She traced the soft curve of her glass, the long pink tip of her fingernail matching that baby-pink lipstick. “Do you believe in corporal punishment?”
He choked on the swallow of water he’d taken just to give himself something to do with his hands. “Do I what?”
She glanced up at him from beneath unnaturally long lashes that framed soft, innocent-looking blue eyes. “You know…spanking.”
His lips tightened. He really was going to strangle Emma. “No. No, I don’t spank my boy.”
“Boy?” Zoey straightened in her seat, the flirtatious facade falling away in favor of a confused pout. “You have boys?”
“I have a son.” Surely Emma had told her. Oh, not details about Thaddeus, of course, but that he had a child.
She tilted her head, and a lock of golden hair curved over one side of her face. “But have you ever wanted a baby girl?”
“Sure, maybe.” Although he was getting a bit old for that. His ex, Rachel, hadn’t wanted children until her career had been well-established. She’d also been ten years younger than him. Bringing home a newborn was a totally different thing at thirty than at forty. He was definitely feeling his age with Thad rapidly approaching his teen years.
At least his son hadn’t decided he was too old to cuddle with his old man yet.
“How about now?”
His gaze jerked from the cut-crystal glass he held to the woman across the table from him. What the hell was she talking about? “Now?”
“Yeah.” She smiled, the flirtatious curve of her lips dotted perfectly in the center with a drop of her wine. He watched in horrified fascination as her tongue sneaked out and swiped up the last lingering bit. “Now. There are plenty of baby girls available if you just…look around.”
Baby girl.
Daddy.
Baby girl.
Daddy.
Spanking.
“No.” The word shot from his mouth with zero finesse. “No, definitely not now. Not—”
Zoey’s flirtatious look shattered, laughter taking over. “I’m sorry, I can’t—”
He couldn’t stop staring as Zoey leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach as if it ached as she laughed and laughed. Each time the sound eased off, she’d take another look at him and off she went again. He was beginning to get irritated when she finally caught her breath enough to explain.
“I’m sorry, Carter.” Chuckles bubbled up, interrupting her words. “I thought I could do this, but I just can’t keep it together. The look on your face…”
More laughter. What was wrong with his face?
And then he remembered.
“She put you up to this, didn’t she?” he asked sourly. He’d even considered the idea earlier. The Catholic schoolgirl outfit—and that’s definitely what it was, he could see now—had tipped him off, but he’d never considered Zoey being in on it.
And thank God she was. Saved him from some very awkward conversation after the baby-girl comment.
He ran a hand down his face, scrubbing hard. Now that he thought about it, strangling might be too good for Emma.
When he looked again, Zoey was still struggling to control her amusement. Her laughter made him feel about the same age as Methuselah.
“She did put me up to it,” Zoey confirmed. Her bright smile dimmed a bit as she watched him. “You don’t mind, do you?”
His chuckle was still a bit reluctant. “You, I don’t mind. Emma…”
“She’s in for it later, I gather?”
“Definitely.” From the corner of his eye he noticed their waiter approaching with full plates of food and sighed, releasing his pent-up irritation at his sister—for now. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy dinner.”
And they did. When Zoey dropped the flirtatious facade, he found a pleasant young woman—still far too young for him at twenty-four—who was easy to talk to and spend time with. She told him how she’d met Emma during a “munch” her BDSM group was having at Zen, how Emma had overheard a bit of conversation and introduced herself. Which didn’t surprise him at all. And the sense of fun he got from Zoey told him exactly why she’d agreed to this blind date.
“Besides”—Zoey shrugged as they lingered a bit, waiting for dessert—“you never know when an older guy is going to be interested in someone a bit younger.”
“I don’t think it’s difficult to find an older man who’ll go for a younger woman.” That seemed to be the preferred scenario with too many men he knew.
“But not you, huh?”
“My son is nearly half your age, Zoey,” he told her.
Her laughter said she didn’t take offense. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
After dinner, he hailed a taxi in the early evening rush of traffic, settled Zoey inside, and prepaid the fare before giving her a wave as she drove away, all the while thinking about how many times in the past year he’d sent a woman home in a taxi, either after dinner or after something else. He wasn’t celibate and he had no objections to a little fun, but women didn’t stay overnight on the rare occasions Thad was with his mother and Carter found someone he was interested in. After this, though, he felt like a moratorium on dating was a necessity to cleanse his palate.
A daddy?
As he waited at the corner for the light to change, he snatched his phone from his back pocket, then crossed the street with the crowd, beginning the ten-block walk to his penthouse. His temples tightened with a headache as he clicked on his sister’s name and waited. Emma picked up just as he came to the next cross street.
She was already laughing.
“I guess you thought that was funny.”
“I don’t even have to hear your version of what happened to know it was damn hilarious,” Emma said, her laughter nearly choking her. She always reminded him of sunshine, which allowed her to get away with far more little-sister shit than he would like to admit. Today, though, he’d forgotten his sunglasses and wasn’t in the mood.
“Putting Zoey in that position wasn’t funny.”
Emma’s laughter didn’t dim the least bit. “She was in on the whole thing. How’d you like the outfit, by the way?”
He growled.
Emma snickered. “Lighten up, Daddy.”
“If you’d like I can come over there and show you what corporal punishment is all about.”
“Don’t think so,” Emma sing-songed. “Even our daddy couldn’t get away with that.”
Not that he’d tried much. Emma was a force of nature, bowling all of them over. When she got her head wrapped around an idea, there was no shaking it. Unfortunately his dating life was the idea she’d wrapped around, and she wasn’t letting loose.
He had to stop appeasing her.
“Tell me you didn’t have a little fun,” she said. “You could be at home in that New York loft, looking out on a bustling city with silence behind you. With Thad at his mom’s…”
“It’s quiet. I know.” He sighed, releasing his irritation with his breath. “I actually do like quiet every once in a while.”
“You’d wallow in it if I let you.”
“At least next week I’ll be gone and you won’t be able to throw any new prospects at me.” He and Thad were headed to the Tennessee mountains to see JD and his new fiancée. Apparently the mansion was surrounded by woods that would be perfect for Thad to get out and explore. Even if the idea of woods gave Carter hives. Talk about quiet. He definitely wasn’t a woods kind of guy. He wasn’t sure why JD seemed to enjoy it so much. Or Lincoln, who thrived on the adrenaline of his constantly packed Manhattan restaurant.
Guess sex could adle any man’s brains.
“Watch it or I’ll follow you down there,” Emma warned.
He shut up and let her babble on about meeting Zoey, which led to various other topics in a stream of consciousness he could barely follow. Yes, he was definitely looking forward to getting away next week. He loved his family, but their mission to make sure he was happy since his divorce was getting a little too intrusive.
Especially Emma. Maybe he’d get lucky and his cell phone wouldn’t get reception at JD’s place.
Emma was winding down about the time he reached the door to his building. “I’m about to hit the elevator, Sis. I’ll have to catch you later.”
“You better. I plan to get all the juicy tidbits from Zoey in the meantime. Bye!”
Carter groaned. Of course she would. And every last moment would be dissected until she found just the right pieces to rib him about.
Great.
When was he leaving?
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