Doorstep daddy Read Online Free Page A

Connors Road."
    "I know it. Can I ask you something?" "Sure."
    "Do you understand thirteen-year-old girls?"
    She laughed uproariously. "Oh, God, yes. I was one once. Having trouble with yours?"
    "I'm glad you were one. You can explain them to me on Friday. I have a list."
    "Okay. But basically just duck and run for the next few years when you see them coming. That's the only way to survive."
    "Great," he muttered.
    He hung up the phone a few minutes later, feeling pleased. He had a date.
    "Want joos!" Mark yelled.
    "No problem." Richard held out his hand. "Barney's over, so let's go get juice, clean up the breakfast dishes, and then it'll probably be time for lunch. We can clean that up and make dinner."
    Mark happily took his hand.
    Oh, brother, he thought. When was he supposed to work?
    He'd have to ask Callie.
    Callie carefully touched the mascara to her right lower lashes - just as the doorbell rang.
    Her hand jerked at the sudden noise.
    "Dammit!" She stared at the dark tracks coursing across her upper eyelid to her temple. She'd had just this last bit to do and she would have been perfect. Now Richard was here and she was a mess.
    Why was she going on this date? Okay, so she was a sucker for a pretty face, and he had one. And she hadn't been out in a long long time with a man. Even if she wasn't in the market for a relationship, surely she could go on a date. One date. She only wanted to look good for it, after all.
    "I'm coming!" she called out, while running a washcloth under hot water to begin repairs to her face.
    The doorbell rang again...and again.
    "Sheesh!" Callie grimaced at the impatience of the man. Her blood pressure shot up as the bell rang several more times. Why was he ringing so much? He couldn't be that restless. Even a guy fresh out of prison would let a few moments go by before ringing the bell again, she thought. So why was Richard going nuts with the bell?
    Callie realized there could be a problem. Mrs. Fogel-man, the widow across the hall, was on the frail side since her latest surgery. Maybe she was hurt or something.
    The doorbell rang for the fortieth time.
    Callie strode out of the apartment bathroom to the front door. She opened it - and died a thousand deaths.
    "...told you not to ring it again!" Richard was saying to Jason. Mark was in his stroller, next to his uncle, who straightened. "Hi, I'm - "
    He stopped, his jaw hanging open as he stared at her face.
    "What's that?" Jason asked, pointing to her forehead. Callie put her hand over her mascara mess. "I was trying to paint my forehead and I missed. Come in." She desperately wanted to ask what the boys were doing with Richard as he pushed the stroller across the threshold, and she hoped his answer would be that they were dropping them off at a baby-sitter's. But she couldn't ask; that would be impolite. Jason raced in behind his uncle.
    Callie caught the boy. "Slow down, kid. I've got a speed limit in my living room and you're over it. Here." She walked him to the television and turned it on, then set up a video game, her secret passion. "Take that energy out on Go-Go Karts."
    "Wow." Jason concentrated on the screen, his fingers pressing control buttons.
    Callie turned away deliberately from Richard, so he couldn't see her face. "I'll just be a few minutes."
    She escaped to the bathroom.
    When she looked in the mirror, she groaned. "Oh, God. The Rocky Horror Picture Show." She emerged from the bathroom. "Poopies!" Mark yelled.
    "Thank you, Mark," Callie replied gravely. "I always did hate a child's honesty."
    Richard grinned at her. "You look beautiful."
    Callie smiled at the compliment. "My war paint's all in place at least. What more could a guy ask?"
    "Nothing," he assured her. "I'm sorry I have to bring the boys with us. I don't know anyone who could babysit, and I think Amanda's too young. I also think she's too young to be home alone, but I lost that argument."
    Callie's heart sank at the idea of a group date. In her moments of