It’s been a long week, but fortunately Daisy is on the mend and able to make her late Friday appointment with Sam. I hadn’t seen her since she left my place last Sunday after my nap, and I have to say the sleep did me good, but I hate that I missed out on time with my two girls.
Two girls.
Well, technically they are. At least, Sam is until she finishes treating Daisy.
Before she left, she’d given me some exercises to do with my daughter, and as we drive through the city, I glance at her in the rearview mirror.
“I like soup,” I say.
“I like th-oup,” she repeats. I grin at her in the mirror and she grins back.
“I like supper,” I say.
“I like th-upper,” she repeats.
We go through a few more words, then she loses interest and begins to play with her doll.
“Are we getting ice cream later, Daddy?”
“Of course. We get ice cream after every visit with Sam.”
“Can Sam come with us?”
It’s easy to see that Daisy likes her. What’s not to like? But I can’t let Daisy grow too close to her. “She’s probably busy.”
“I want Sam to come,” she says.
“Okay, we’ll see,” I say, caving in to her. I really should be a stronger disciplinarian, maybe be a bit firmer with my demands, but it’s hard for me. I’m home so little with her, and when I’m here, I just want to give her the world. I’m sure if she had a full-time mother, she’s be much more consistent. But she doesn’t, so we do the best we can.
“We pull up in front of Sam’s, and she unbuckles. I help her from the car and as we walk up the pathway, Sam’s old car is sitting in the driveway. I paid for her repairs, and I’m happy with the work my mechanic put into it. It’s much safer to drive and it gives me comfort to know she’s not going to break down somewhere.
She’s at the door, and my heart gives a little leap when I see her. Fuck, I missed her. A lot.
I exhale loudly at that revelation and resist the urge to pull her into my arms for a kiss.
“Hey Daisy,” she says, her eyes lighting with real pleasure as my daughter races to her. She bends to nip at her nose with the alligator puppet and when she stands again, and her eyes meet mine, electricity arcs between us.
“Come in,” she says. A little breathless whisper. I brush my knuckles along hers as I enter and her heat reaches out to me.
“Head to the playroom, Daisy. I’ll be right there,” Sam says.
Daisy skips down the hall, and I pull Sam to me. “I’ve missed you,” I admit honestly.
“Did you have a hard week?” she asks, teasing me as she rubs her pelvis against mine. I growl in her ear.
“I want to see you, tonight.”
“I want that too,” she says. “Right now, I have to go work with Daisy.”
“I’m going to work on your back deck. I picked up lumber.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I wanted to. And pie…”
I laugh at that. “You’re not getting tired of my pie?”
“I’ll never tire of your pie, Sam.”
She grins at me, and I stare at her sweet ass as she goes down the hall and disappears into the office with Daisy. I give myself a second to get my boner under control before I head outside to get to work on her back step. The late-day sun beats down on me, and in no time at all my shirt sticks to my body. I peel it off and toss it aside. I measure the wood, cut it with the circular saw I brought, then pound it into place.
“Hello,” a voice says over my pounding.
I glance up to see a woman coming my way. She doesn’t look to be much older than Sam.
“Hello,” I return.
Her mouth drops, and surprise registers on her face. “You’re Zander Reed!” she says, the can of soda in her hand nearly slipping free.
I nod. “Last time I checked.”
She glances at the door, then back at me. “I don’t understand, what are you doing here?”
“Sam is working with my daughter, Daisy, and I’m helping her with a few things around the house.”
Her gaze drops to my bare chest, and she goes silent for a second. I clear my throat, and she lifts her gaze to me. She lifts one leg, puts it on the new bottom step, and her short-shorts ride higher on her thigh. Toying with the low V-neck of her blouse, she holds her can of soda out to me. “Here. You look like you could use a drink.”
I get it. I get it really fast. Sam’s neighbor wants a piece of the Hard Hitter.
“I’m good, thanks.” I’m not interested in her soda, or her anything. Why would I ever want to bed another girl when I have someone like Sam? Someone who is good to both me and my daughter. Someone who sees me as more than the Hard Hitter.
Someone who has no interest in a real relationship.
“Oh, okay,” she says, like I’ve offended her, but she takes a drink and steps closer. “I’m Katrina, Sam’s neighbor.” She rolls her eyes slightly. “She has so many people coming and going from her place, I have no idea who’s a client and who’s…not,” she says, likes she’s privy to information I’m not—and is trying to paint a picture for me, in case my interests went deeper.
“Is that right?”
“The last guy who did work around her house…we’ll, let’s just say he wasn’t a famous hockey player.”
A strange burst of jealousy goes through me as I picture Sam with another guy.
I shake that thought off. She’s mine for the month, who she’s been with before—or who she’ll be with after—is none of my business.
Then why do I feel like it is?
The back screen door whines open, and I make a mental note to fix that next. “Zander—” Sam begins. But when she sees her neighbor, she says, “Oh, hi Katrina. I didn’t realize you were here. I was just checking with Zander to see if he needed a drink,” she says, and hold out a glass of lemonade.
“Thanks,” I say, accepting it and taking a sip. “How’s it going in there?”
“We’re just about finished. Five more minutes.”
I wipe my brow with the back of my hand, and Sam hovers in the door like she’s reluctant to leave me with her neighbor. Not that I can blame her. She is rather blatant, but Sam needs to know it’s her and only her I want to be with.
“By the way, Daisy wants to go for ice cream after her session. Why don’t you join us?”
“Oh.” She straightens a little. “I…I’m not—”
“Sweets has the best chocolate ice cream in the city. Chocolate’s your favorite, right?”
She folds her arms and grins at me. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Yes,” she says, and my stomach flips, happier about her joining us than I should be.
“I’ll let you know when we’re done,” she says. “Not too much longer.”
I glance back at Katrina, who’s still scowling at the door, even after Sam disappeared through it. Funny, in the past, I would have gone for a girl like Katrina. Tall, thin, dressed in barely there clothes. But man, after getting a taste of Sam, the sweet girl next door, and sinking my teeth into her curves, I have no idea how I’ll go back to the swarm of puck bunnies, ready and willing to fuck any hockey player simply because of his stature.
Maybe I was getting away from that anyway. My last girlfriend wasn’t a bunny, and I cared a great deal for her—until she up and ran away because she wasn’t ready for a family. In the end, I guess I don’t blame her. It’s a hard thing to put on any woman.
“You and Sam,” she begins, and narrows her eyes like she can’t quite believe it. “You’re a couple.”
“Yeah, we’re a couple,” I fib, but goddammit, there’s a part of me that really wants that.
“How well do you know her?”
“Not well. You?”
“Well enough,” she says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll let you figure that out.” With that, she saunters away, giving an extra shake to her backside. But I’m not interested, so I turn my attention to gathering up my tools.
I reload my trunk, go back inside to splash some water on my face, and tug my shirt back on. I leave the bathroom just as Sam and Daisy come from the office.
“Daddy,” Daisy yells. “I love soup!”
My head rears back. “Daisy, I love soup too,’ I say, and we both laugh. I glance at Sam.
“We tried some new exercises today and she’s making great progress.”
My stomach tightens at that. While I’m happy about the progress, it also means that my time with Sam could be up sooner rather than later, and that doesn’t sit right with me.
“Ice cream,” Daisy yells.
“All set?” I ask Sam.
“Let me grab my purse.” She darts to the kitchen, then locks the door behind us. We pile into my car, and we head to Sweets. Daisy sings loudly in the backseat to some song playing on her kids’ iPad. I wince and turn to Sam. “She has her father’s voice.”
Sam laughs and her hand slides across the seat, tangles with mine, and I give hers a little squeeze, loving her with us like this. A short while later, I park, and we walk to Sweets. We all get our ice cream and head to the park. Daisy licks her ice cream and darts to the slide.
“Careful, kiddo,” I say, and take seat at the bench to keep an eye on her. Sam settles herself beside me, and every time she pokes her tongue out to take a lick, my dick twitches in my pants.
Needing a distraction—now is certainly not the time to be sporting a hard-on—I engage her in conversation. “I take it you and Katrina aren’t friends.”
“What makes you say that?
“Daddy look. Daddy look!” Daisy says, as she goes down the small plastic slide, dripping ice cream cone in hand. I wave to her and turn back to Sam.
“She alluded that you had other men helping you fix the place up.”
She laughs at that. “Yeah, my sixty-year-old father. Does he qualify as other men?” She shakes her head and continues with, “She’s one of the mean girls, Zander. You know, popular in high school, and now queen bee of the neighborhood. I never hung out with girls like her back then, and I don’t now, either. I wasn’t popular, or…”
“Mean.”
“Right.”
“I kind of told her we were a couple. I know we’re not, and we weren’t supposed to say anything, but I didn’t like the things she was saying about you.”
“What was she saying?” she asks, not at all surprised to hear her neighbor was talking about her. It bothers me that she might be used to that kind of thing. Girls can be so mean, and I want my daughter to grow up strong and with empathy for others. I want her to be like Sam.
“Basically that she knew you ‘well enough’.” I pause to do air quotes around the words. “But I have no idea what she’s talking about. I only know she wasn’t being kind.”
“I have no idea either.”
“Maybe they’re threatened by the pretty single girl who moved in.”
I laugh at that. “Doubtful.”
“Maybe they’re worried you’re going to steal their husbands. Have a secret, dirty affair.”
“That’s what I have you for,” she says, taking a long lick of her chocolate. “Although it’s not much of a secret anymore. Quinn’s fully aware of our secret.”
“That means everyone knows. She’s never been good at secrets.”
“Oh well. My mother always said if others were talking about me, it meant they were leaving someone else alone.”
“That’s a good way to think about it. I’ll be sure to give Daisy the advice when the time comes.”
I wave to Daisy again when she calls out to me and Sam reaches into her purse to grab her ringing phone. She slides her finger across the screen.
“Hey Mom,” she says.
I can’t hear what her mother is saying to her—I only know by the whitening of Sam’s face, something is very terribly wrong.