Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

by Liz Tomforde

Pretty girls tend to make him stupid. And this one is real pretty.

“Lighten up, Baby Daddy.” She takes a casual sip of her coffee—or rather her chai tea latte per the tag on her paper cup. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’m being responsible. I don’t have a stick up my ass.” “Probably been lodged so far up there and for so damn long that you forgot it was even inside of you.”

“He’ll be on his hands and knees most of the time.” “As all men should be.”

“And I’m not anyone’s third wheel. And don’t even tease me about living with Ryan Shay, Ind. That will very quickly turn into a two-wheel situation, and you won’t be one of them.”

Her lips press together, holding back a grin. “You keep talking like that, Kai, and

I’ll be ditching the ‘baseball’ part and just be calling you ‘daddy.’”

“Does your boyfriend know what a flirt you are?” “Oh, come on, Kai. You’re better than that. Be direct. Ask me if I’m single.”

“It’s never too late to go deep in me, Baseball Daddy.”

“Don’t try to ruin the moment with humor, Montgomery. I’ll call you whatever the hell I feel like.” “Yes, Daddy.”

I pop my shoulders. “I like to see pretty girls in my jersey. Like to take it off them too.”

“I make Max happy. Monty makes Max happy, but I don’t see you looking at us like you want to fuck us against the wall.” “Fucking gross, Isaiah.”

She looks like a grown-ass woman who knows exactly what she wants.” He pats my leg as he stands from the couch. “And that, my brother, would be you.”

There’s only one instance in which I can see myself gagging in Kai Rhodes’ presence, and it sure as hell isn’t from liquor.

Swallowing, she tilts her head, testing me. “Then do something to make me your problem.” Fuck me. I’m so frustratingly into this woman, so I do just that. I make her my problem.

My eyes are twinkling, nodding into my room. “Come.” “Miller.” I chuckle. “Yes?” “Please shut up.”

“You should keep talking. You have a sexy voice, even when you’re talking about your childhood trauma.”

“I could help with that, you know. It’d be a sacrifice for sure, having sex with you, but I’m a martyr that way.” He chuckles. “I don’t need your charity.” “Why not? I could use the tax write-off.”

I’m a thirty-two-year-old man getting caught in bed by someone’s father.

“Trust me, if I ever kissed you again, it will be as my last and final resort to shut you up.” “Okay, I’ll keep talking then.”

It’s like watching single dad porn.

I’d let him fuck me right here on this counter where I could replay it in my mind each and every time I baked in his kitchen.

I’ll be so deep, you’ll be able to feel me in your fucking throat, and I can promise you, Miller, your body won’t let you forget me.”

“This is why you have Max,” I somehow say. “I’m fairly certain you’re fucking me right past my birth control.” “Miller.” He halts his movements. “That’s an inside thought.”

“I’d really appreciate it if we steer away from talking about me knocking you up while I’m rearranging your insides.” I raise an impressed brow. “Yes, Daddy.”

Kennedy’s face softens. “Is his magical giant penis confusing you?”

“Mmm,” he hums. “What, Bug?” He points to the door again. “Mmm.” “Are you trying to say Miller?” “Mmm.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. Who fucks the single dad of the kid they’re nannying for?” Stevie pops her shoulders nonchalantly. “I fucked a hockey player on the team I was working for.” Indy points to Stevie. “I fucked her brother.” “I’m not fucking anyone,” Rio sighs. Kennedy takes a long drag of her cocktail. “My ex-fiancé is fucking my stepsister.”

“Rio, you’re staying, yeah?” “Yes! And I’m sleeping in Ryan Shay’s bed.”

“I don’t blame her for anything. She’s a literal angel who can do no wrong in my eyes, but I can blame her mother for having terrible taste in men and marrying who I can only assume is the devil, seeing as Dean Cartwright is Satan’s spawn himself.”

I’d fall in love with you all over again. I’d break my heart all over again because loving you was one of the two greatest surprises of my life.”

“Miller,” he says, making sure my attention is on him. “If you ever decide to stop running and make a home…” His eyes are begging, pleading. “Make it with me.”