Page 50 of Off Limits Daddies
"That would be the one." I'm already scrambling out of bed, searching frantically for my pants. Where the hell did I throw them last night? "She has a key. She's going to walk in here any second."
The sound of a key turning in the front door lock downstairs echoes through the house.
"Oh God." Mia clutches the sheet to her chest, her face pale. "Oh God, oh God, oh God."
"Clothes," Noah says, his usual calm completely shattered. "We need clothes. Now."
What follows is the most chaotic thirty seconds of my life.
Blake lunges for his jeans, which are somehow tangled in the bedside lamp cord. He yanks them free and the lamp crashes to the floor with a sound like a small explosion.
"Smooth," Noah mutters, diving off the opposite side of the bed in search of his own pants. He glasses fall off his head and go skittering across the hardwood floor. "Damn it!"
Mia scrambles to find her clothes but they're scattered across the room like evidence at a crime scene. Her bra hangs from the ceiling fan. And just how the hell had that happened? One shoe is on the dresser. Her jeans are in a heap by the door.
"Dad?" Emma's voice drifts up from downstairs. "Are you home?"
"Just a minute!" I call back, my voice cracking like a teenager's. I finally locate my pants under the bed and yank them on so fast I nearly fall over. No time for underwear. No time for anything.
Blake hops on one foot trying to get his second leg into his jeans while simultaneously reaching for his shirt, which is draped over the headboard. He loses his balance and crashes into Noah, who's crawling across the floor searching for his glasses.
"Get off me!" Noah shoves Blake away.
"I'm trying!" Blake windmills his arms, still hopping, and knocks over a water glass on the nightstand. It shatters spectacularly.
"What's going on up there?" Emma's voice is closer now. She's at the bottom of the stairs.
Mia makes a sound like a wounded animal and grabs the first piece of clothing she can reach, which happens to be my dress shirt from last night. She pulls it on over her naked body, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.
"Bathroom," I hiss at Blake and Noah. "Hide in the bathroom."
"Hide?" Blake looks at me like I've lost my mind.
I physically push him toward the en-suite bathroom. "Both of you. Now."
Noah finally finds his glasses and shoves them on his face. One lens is cracked. He grabs his pants and shirt and stumbles toward the bathroom after Blake, both of them trying to dress while moving.
Blake's foot catches on his jeans and he goes down hard, taking Noah with him. They land in a tangle of limbs and half-buttoned shirts.
"This is ridiculous," Noah groans from underneath Blake's considerable weight.
"Tell me about it." Blake rolls off him and they both army-crawl the last few feet to the bathroom.
I slam the bathroom door shut just as I hear Emma heading for the staircase.
Mia stands frozen in the middle of my bedroom wearing nothing but my shirt, which barely covers her thighs. Her hair is a wild mess. Her lips are swollen from kissing. She looks thoroughly ravished and there's no way to hide it.
"Go," I whisper urgently, pushing her toward the door. "Act natural."
"Natural?" Her voice is high and panicked. "How am I supposed to act natural?"
"I don't know. Just go."
I throw on the first shirt I can find and rush downstairs, my heart hammering against my ribs. I intercept Emma in the foyer, positioning myself between her and the staircase.
She stops short when she sees me, her gray-blue eyes narrowing as she takes in my appearance. My shirt is buttoned wrong, my hair is sticking up in every direction, and I'm pretty sure I have a hickey on my neck.
"Dad." Her voice drips with suspicion. "What's going on?"
