Rockies Retreat: Destination: Desire, Book 5 Read Online Free PDF Page B

though. I’m the only child of only children. I don’t even have any cousins.”
    Going with the topic Neil clearly had no control over, Laurel looked at him askance and pressed a hand between her breasts. “No cousins? How could you deprive your daughter this way?”
    “I’m a terrible human being, clearly,” he replied, sotto voce. His gaze dropped for a split-second to her chest before he focused on his coffee. “I was involved in a multigenerational scheme to make my kid miserable. That’s what fathers live for, isn’t it?”
    “Especially fathers of teen girls.” Laurel added sagely, “It’s a scientific fact.”
    He snorted and cracked a grin. Somehow that felt like a victory, considering his face seemed to be perpetually sober. She wondered when the last time was that he laughed until he cried, or if he’d ever smiled so broadly his cheeks hurt. It had probably been a long time—those brackets around his eyes weren’t laugh lines.
    Laurel nudged Vi’s shoulder. “Look on the bright side. No nephew will ever wake you up screaming at four AM.”
    “Dad’s the one up at the crack of dawn.” Violet shook her head as if the concept was beyond comprehension.
    “It means I make it to breakfast showered and dressed.” He cast a glance at her wild hair.
    Laurel reached over to lift a particularly woolly bit of the teen’s coif. “And he can prove he knows how to use this magical device called a comb.”
    Bursting into laughter, she swatted at Laurel’s hand.
    “I’m just a nice daughter who, like, let you and Mom write in the mornings before I bugged you for food.” Her smile was sunny and just a touch benevolent. “You’re welcome.”
    He harrumphed and slathered cream cheese on his bagel. Laurel smothered a chuckle, and he cast her a glance full of rueful humor. A kick of attraction hit her again, the longing so sharp and insistent, she had to look away.
    “You gave your mom writing time too? She was an author?” Laurel thought she vaguely remembered that being mentioned in some news article she’d read about Neil when his last book series was announced. She didn’t recall much else—she’d only been looking for release dates. Though she might have to Google him now. Perhaps that was cheating, but she didn’t care.
    “Mom wrote as Cara O’Neil.” The teen drew up a knee and rested it against the edge of the table. She picked up a triangle of toast and munched on it. “But I—”
    “Wait, wait.” Laurel held up a hand. “Your parents are the warm-fuzzy hometown romance author and the king of blood-curdling psycho-thrillers?”
    Vi nodded, her expression turning woeful. “I’m going to need so much therapy.”
    Man, she adored this kid. A belly laugh escaped Laurel. “Yeah, that’s a recipe for warped.”
    “Hey, now,” Neil protested. He opened the book he’d brought, scanning through what appeared to be the table of contents. “We gave you a well-balanced appreciation of genre literature. You’re welcome, ingrate.”
    “What are you looking up?” his daughter asked.
    “Fact-checking something for Dead Fall .” He flipped to a chapter in the middle. “I need to know how quickly a person bleeds out if you sever their carotid artery with a ski pole.”
    Laurel sat back in her chair. “Yeah, that’s the definition of well-adjusted and balanced.”
    “I do what I can.” He chuckled quietly, meeting her eyes again as he rose to his feet. “Though I’m better adjusted with copious amounts of coffee. Excuse me.”
    Forcing herself not to stare at his ass as he walked away, she turned back to Violet. “You know, I’ve read a few Cara O’Neil books.”
    “A lot of people did. She sold really well.” The girl’s expression was both proud and sad. “Though I think she was kinda bummed she’d used Dad’s name as part of her pen name, after the divorce and everything.”
    “I could see that. I’m kinda bummed my real last name is attached to my dad. He’s an