Chapter 7

“I was watching you both since you came in. You’re one hot daddy.” He passed me a napkin with an address and phone number written in blotched ink. “When you’re done here, call me and I’ll be your son for as long as you want. You can teach me the facts of life, daddy.” He grinned and turned away just as Luke returned.

Luke raised an eyebrow, so I shrugged and glanced over to see the young man leaving the bar—he has a nice ass—and handed him the napkin. “I think he meant this to be for you.”

Luke unfolded it completely and laughed. “He wrote a poem, ‘eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Which daddy do I blow?’ He signed it Trevor with the Treasure Trail.” He folded it and handed it back. “I left you alone for less than four minutes and someone hit on you? I see I can’t let you out of my sight for long.”

I felt the blush. “Oh, for God’s sake, Luke, he called me daddy. I think he was making fun of an old guy being in his bar.”