The One Who Loves You (Tickled Pink #1)(54)

“You’re being unreasonable,” Bridget tells me. “Having an educated population is good for all of us, and Phoebe’s working on her education.”

I tuck my hands under my head. “If I was being unreasonable, I’d just say no.”

“You know I could tutor her in secret.”

That’s my kid. Arguing with me over ways she can help someone else.

Definitely got that from her mother.

“She worth the risk of lying to your parents?” I ask Bridget.

“She’s not offering me drugs or teaching me how to lie, steal, and cheat my way to the top, Dad. And I know she’s a great example of what not to do. We haven’t had this many Tickled Pink Papers printed since I was like eight.”

Phoebe’s shoulders tense, but I only notice because I’m watching.

Or maybe her boat rocked wrong.

But there’s no denying the way her lips tightened too.

Probably because I’m grinning. Bet Jane and Willie Wayne are too.

Not every day someone prompts the gossip page to run with the same thing two days in a row, but Phoebe did it.

Except this time, instead of giving herself a flat tire, she ran into a mailbox.

The one right in front of the Tickled Pink fire station, matter of fact.

“My mother thought she saw someone wearing Tulip Pendragon and temporarily distracted me” was her excuse.

She’s not making excuses now, though. “Your daughter clearly knows better than to follow my lead on anything, if you’re worried about me setting a bad example.”

Bridge nods. “Seriously. Did you see what she picked for her last boyfriend?”

“Psychopath,” Jane mutters.

“Entitled ass,” Willie Wayne agrees. “Hope we don’t get that tower fixed now.”

Now I’m pissed, and I don’t know why.

All right, fine.

I do know why.

If she has bad taste in men and she’s flirting with me, what does that say about me?

That’s not why, you liar, my good shoulder angel says.

My bad shoulder angel doesn’t chime in. He’s fallen off laughing.

Because I know why Willie Wayne doesn’t want the tower fixed.

It’s because Phoebe’s last ex-boyfriend is the heir to the telecommunications company that owns it, and I don’t want to think about her ex-boyfriends.

It’s also because Phoebe’s last ex-boyfriend is spreading rumors through the tabloids in New York that she got caught sleeping with a married man while trying to work her way up the corporate ladder, and Phoebe’s name is mud in her home social circles right now.

I’d claim I only know that because Bridget’s been digging into the gossip pages, but that would also be a lie.

I’ve been digging into the gossip pages.

Phoebe Lightly is addictive, and if I can’t be verbally sparring with her, driving her around, and kissing her, then I want to be looking at gossip about her.

My name is Teague Miller, and I have a problem.

“So we’re agreed then,” Bridget says. “Thank you, Dad. I’ll ask Mom what’s a fair rate.”

“I didn’t—”

Phoebe smiles at me. “You’re a really great father, Teague. I wish my father had been half as supportive and attentive to my influences as you are to Bridget’s.”

And now I’m getting hot in the cheeks, because that almost sounded sincere. “That’s not—”

“Bridget, can I drive the boat?” Phoebe asks.

Bridge points the stay in your seat finger at her. “No. You’re a nuisance. No offense, I mean, but your driving record basically speaks for itself.”

“You can’t get a flat tire in a boat.”

“No, but you could hit another boat, and they could all sink. Or the Tickled Pink Monster could leap out of the water and eat you.”

“The what?”

“The Tickled Pink Monster.”

“Scotland has Loch Ness,” Jane says.

Willie Wayne nods. “We have the Tickled Pink Monster. Used to be Tickled Pink Floyd’s pet lizard.”

He takes off his hat and falls silent.

Bridget puts a hand to her heart.

Jane pulls off her hat, too, and gives me a look.

So I pull off my hat too.

“Sad tale,” I mutter.

Bridget shoots me a death glare. “We don’t like to talk about it.”

“Just like Tickled Pink Floyd.”

Phoebe’s gaze wavers as she sweeps it over the four of us. “You’re telling me the ghost of the high school had a giant lizard that now haunts this lake?”

Bridget flaps a hand at her. “Shh. We’re having a moment of silence.”

And everyone’s worried about Phoebe being the bad influence.

“Back to fishing,” Jane declares. “Go quiet on your way in, Bridge. Got a feeling I might catch me a big one quick before the storm rolls in.”

“Or another shoe.” Willie Wayne lifts a fancy heel.

Phoebe gasps and lunges. “My Louboutin!”

Bridget squeaks and reaches for her, but she’s too late.

Deer Drop Lake, two; Phoebe Lightly, zero.





Chapter 18