Sugar Daddy Read Online Free PDF Page B

broom practically attached to her hitting-hand. “Mr. DuBose, I’ll remind you to watch your cursin’.”
    I sighed. “I already have a man . ”
    “When was the last time he acted like one, honey?”
    “And that be the crux of it.” Addy had nodded.
    It was just my damn bad luck Palmer came home for lunch before I scooted on my way to Reardon’s. I was in the bathroom primping, preening, and doing a final fret about my immoral, going-to-hell, so goddamn wrong decision when the front door banged and his shout rebounded, “Shay! Y’all here?”
    Downstairs, my husband sat at the kitchen table, drinking a noontime beer and eating a sandwich. The hazy sun from the windows imbued his rugged features and arresting goldenrod hair, reminding me of the playful dimples I never saw anymore.
    Glancing away, I saw he’d made me a sandwich too. My will crumbled. Why couldn’t he be the man I’d married?
    Then he opened his mouth. “Y’all are tarted up. Exactly who are you interviewing with?”
    Tarted up? What about, “You turned out nicely, Shay?” Since I didn’t own any pasties or sequined boob tubes, I was dressed professionally–but not professionally.
    “Can’t say, confidentiality clause.” I bit into the sandwich and swallowed over the lies spilling from my mouth. “It’s a PA job, like I did for Ginger.”
    “Hmmf . You don’t say?”
    “The person in question values privacy.” Queasy, I threw the rest of the sandwich into the overflowing garbage can he’d forgotten to empty the night before. “Anyway, it’s only two or three times a week, very flexible.”
    “Don’t seem like much, hardly worth gettin’ outta bed for.”
    Ain’t that the truth. Wait, huh? It wasn’t all that much at all, what with Mr. Boone’s obvious tastes for trysts.
    Thinking fast, I concluded, “It’s a job share.”
    “Makes sense, I guess.” He shoved the end of his sandwich in his mouth and washed the gooey mess down with the last of his brew.
    Oh.
    Oh!
    Job share?
    Oh, no freakin’ way.
     

 
    Chapter 3
    Bone Fides
     
    By the time I got to The Tides, I was steaming mad. Job share? Oh, I had somethin’ to share alright. A piece of my mind, for starters. Reardon’s front door was propped opened, so I gave it a good hearty slam to make my entrance known. At least I tried to slam it. Figured it was one of those spring mechanisms, quietly snicking closed.
    Searching for something to cause a commotion, I spotted a big vase resting on the entry table. I hefted it from hand to hand a few times, then whacked it onto the table…
    And thought about getting the hell out of Dodge, because–damn–that was really loud.
    “Miss Greer.” His stern interruption made me flinch.
    Whoops.
    Fear in the pit of my belly, I faced the studhorse himself. Studhorse? No, no, no. He was a prize stallion.
    His irises were snapdragon sapphire as he balanced the teetering vase, his lips tight, his incredible forearms once more on show from the rolled cuffs of his shirt. “I expect my subordinates to behave with a touch more decorum.”
    “Sorry,” I eked out. At his narrowing look, I remembered why I was so enraged, not to mention, had seething Rat Bastard just called me his subordinate?
    Swallowing my ire, I sashayed toward him. “I do apologize, Mr. Boone.” A noticeable inhale stuttered through his lips, and I decided flirting was kind of fun, apart from the fact I wanted to kick him in the shins. “Before we go any further…” My fingers drew ever closer to his hand. “I need to know if this a job share.”
    His expression faded to anxiousness. “What makes you ask?”
    “Well, I can’t imagine this bein’ a full-time position , I mean how much clandestine fucking can one woman take? But y’all seem to be a man with limitless needs.”
    The pads of his fingertips running along the sensitive flesh between my fingers, he inclined closer. “I take these endeavors most seriously.”
    “These endeavors? You’re in the