Drive-In Secrets With Daddy Novel by Lucky Faye _ Novel




Drive-In Secrets With Daddy Chapter 01

Maya’s POV
“Daddy, come on,” I whined, leaning forward between the seats. “What movie did you pick? Just one hint. Please?”
Steve, my stepdad, laughed. “Nice try. Ten more minutes, and you’ll know.”
I slumped back with a groan. “That’s basically torture.”
“It’s called a birthday surprise, sweetheart.”
Mom sighed loudly from the passenger seat. “I still don’t get why we’re sweating to death in a parking lot for some old movie.”
I pursed my lips. That made three complaints since we’d parked.
Steve had planned this drive-in night for weeks because he knew how much I loved old movies, but as usual, Mom acted like she was doing us a massive favor just by showing up.
“It’s a classic, Viv,” Steve said softly. “And it’s Maya’s eighteenth birthday. A little heat won’t kill us.”
“I’m sorry, but this is pathetic. She’s eighteen. We should be out having real drinks, not roasting in a car for some depressing old movie.” Mom shot back over her shoulder, her arms folded tightly.
“Can we not do this tonight?” I sank back into the rear seat. “For once, can this not be about you? It’s my birthday.”
“Easy, little Maya. Your mom’s just tired,” Steve said, ruffling his own hair as he sighed.
Steve was always the one smoothing things over.
Maybe it was his gift as a doctor. He was always so patient.
Steve became my father when I was six. He was the one who remembered my exam dates and helped with schoolwork. He attended my choir concerts, cheering like I’d won a Grammy. He did everything my mom made excuses about.
Steve was a good husband and an even better father, and my mother loved humiliating him.
Like now, she was leaning forward toward the window, practically pressing her body against the glass. She had chosen that dress with the deep V-neckline for a reason, and it certainly wasn't for a family night. She was scanning the row of luxury cars next to us like a hunter.
Steve noticed, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he caught my eye in the rearview mirror and gave me a small wink. “Forget the heat, Maya. I’m not letting anything ruin tonight.”
I tried to smile back, but Mom’s sharp voice cut me off.
“Fine. You two can sit here and enjoy your cozy movie.” She didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed her purse, adjusted her cleavage in the mirror, and stepped out of the car. “I’m going to get some real air.”
I watched her through the window. She didn't look for air, but looked for attention. She stood by our hood for a split second, fluffing her hair and scanning the lot until a man in a sleek sports car nearby leaned out.
“Hey, sexy,” the stranger called out, his eyes roaming over her with bold intent. “I’ve got the AC blasting, top-shelf gin, and a much better view. Interested?”
Mom didn’t even hesitate. She let out a loud, girlish giggle—the kind she never used at home. “Why not?”
With a playful swing of her hips, she climbed into the stranger’s car. The door shut with a heavy thud, and she didn't look back once. Not at the husband she was shaming, and not at her daughter.
I felt sick. How could she just leave us like that? On my birthday?
Steve didn't say a word, but I saw his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel.
Tears blurred my vision. I tried to hide my face in my hands, but Steve was already looking through the glass. He climbed out of the driver's seat, opened the back door, and slid in beside me.
“Hey, hey,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around me. “Don’t let her ruin tonight, okay? It’s your birthday.”
He gently pulled my hands away from my face and brushed a strand of hair back.
The tired ache around his smile did something awful to my chest.
My heart broke—not for me, but for him. For the man whose wife had just climbed into another man’s car and was still sitting here trying to comfort me.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, even though it was a lie. Then I looked up at him. “Are you?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, the giant screen flickered to life, spilling blue-white light across the lot. I looked up and gasped just as the title appeared.
The Notebook.
My breath caught.
He’d remembered.
Steve glanced up at it. “Your favorite, right?”
My breath hitched. He was too damn good, still shielding my birthday wishes. My eyes stung as I looked up at him through the blur of tears.
He bent his head and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Then he drew me a little closer. “Hey,” he said softly, brushing his thumb against my arm. “Don’t look at me like that. Watch the movie.”
The pale glow from the screen washed over us as he settled back beside me, one arm still around my shoulders.
I leaned against him, listening to the steady, heavy beat of his heart, wishing there was something I could do to make him happy.

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