Single Dad Next Door: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 7
Sandra opens her mouth to speak, but I silence her with a glare.
“You… Really?” asks David in disbelief. “Alfred and Collette were right. Moving out here was a mistake. People like you and I can’t mingle with people like him.”
I’m surprised by how much that stings. Whether David is a worthless shit or not, I can’t help feeling some of the truth in his words. She is from a different world than me. It’s a world of careless living, idle play, and excess. My life couldn’t be any farther from that. Even if she was carrying my baby, what makes me think she would want me to play any part in it’s life?
I lick my lips, looking to Sandra, who can’t meet my eye. “Message heard. Loud and clear,” I say.
I turn to leave, fists clenched. I pause at the doorway.
“Did you forget how to--” starts David.
His words cut short when I turn and fire my fist into his mouth. His teeth cut my knuckles, but I find comfort knowing it hurts him more than it hurts me. His head kicks back and his legs crumple beneath him. He puts a hand slowly to his mouth, looking at the blood on his fingers.
“You chipped my tooth,” he says.
Sure enough, I see the half-circle missing from the bottom of one of his front teeth.
“Buy a fucking new one, Cum Fields,” I growl.
10
Sandra
“David’s back?” asks Jennifer.
I flip a piece of popcorn in my mouth, nodding grimly. We’re both sitting on the floor in front of my couch. We’re a few episodes into a Gilmore Girls marathon.
“I thought you said he got the message loud and clear when you broke up last summer?”
“I thought he did.”
“So,” asks Jennifer. “Are you interested?”
I sigh, leaning my head back against the couch. “I’m going to tell you something you can’t tell Lauren, okay?”
Jennifer nods. “Okay… Are you going to tell her eventually, though?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just afraid she’ll go and try to kill Mark if I tell her.”
“Mark? Wait. What?”
I tell her everything I know so far about Mark’s plans to buy out my shop and tear it to the ground.
When I’ve finished, Jennifer looks down at her hands, frowning. “Can they really do that?” she asks.
“Apparently,” I say. “And the only way I have to stop them is to come up with an impossible amount of money. David could come up with that kind of money in a heartbeat, and so could my parents. I hate myself for it, but I can’t do that.” I realize how this must sound to Jennifer. She’s going to lose her job because I’m too proud to go to my parents or David for money. Still, I know I couldn’t live with myself if I did. Even if I let David bail me out, it would be like signing a deal with the preppy devil.
“Well… You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
I nod, thinking about the possibility that I could also be mixing a pregnancy into this whole mess, too.
“What does David want, anyway?” asks Jennifer.
“He wants to get back together. Maybe my parents put him up to it or something. Who knows.”
“Does he really think you’re going to get back with him after what happened?” she asks.
I laugh bitterly. “It wouldn’t surprise me. I went to school with a bunch of guys just like David. They are given anything they could ever want. They get used to just taking what they want, whenever they want it. Cheating on me probably barely registered as a blip on his radar.”
“Asshole,” says Jennifer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn.
“Yeah. They all are.”
She grins. “Reid is by far the sexiest of the assholes. For the record,” she adds.
I decide it’s finally time to get my car back the next morning. I thought Reid might just be joking about me having to come over to get the car. I thought he’d eventually get tired of it taking up space and bring it over, but apparently he wants to turn this into a battle of wills. Maybe he thought the only way to get me to come over to his smelly garage was by holding my car hostage. Well. He’s probably right.
I find him on his back beneath a truck. The muscles in his arms cord and tense with every movement of his capable hands. I clear my throat, averting my eyes and wait for him to notice me.
“You here to apologize?” he asks.
Apologize? Is he talking about the other night with David? He’s dreaming if he thinks I’m going to apologize for whatever is bothering him. “No. I’m here to get the car you kidnapped.”
“You mean the car I graciously fixed for you? For free?”
“I don’t need your handouts,” I say. “How much do I owe you?”
I didn’t come over here to pick a fight with him, but something about Reid just riles me up. Everytime, without fail.
He comes out from under the car and stands, stretching out to his full height. I feel small and fragile next to his tall, broad frame.
“You owe me dinner.”
“No,” I say. “No. No way.”
“Then I’m keeping the car.”
“You can’t just keep my car. That’s against the law,” I say, knowing I sound pathetic.
“Then send the cops. But you’re not getting the car until you agree to dinner with me.”
I plant my fists on my hips. I’m getting ready to give him an ear-full when his son, Roman wanders out from the garage. Roman is shirtless, his small belly rounded and glistening with sweat. I’m struck by the cuteness of Reid’s son wanting to go shirtless like his dad always does, and how he hangs around the shop and seems to enjoy himself there.
Roman waves. “Hi, Miss Sandy.”
I breathe out my anger, not wanting to scare Roman. I smile, kneeling down. “Hey there. Were you helping your daddy fix the cars?”
“Nope,” he says. “I was watching to see if you two were going to kiss. Daddy says he likes you.”
Reid slowly turns to glare down at Roman. “Traitor,” he mutters.
“Is that right?” I ask, looking from Roman to Reid. “Your daddy hasn’t ever said anything nice like that to me.”
Reid folds his arms. “Don’t listen to her, Bud. I say nice things to Miss Sandra all the time.”
“Really?” asks Sandra. “Care to refresh my memory?”
“Sure. We’ll catch up over dinner tonight. Wouldn’t that be nice, Roman?”
Roman’s face lights up and I feel myself being caught deeper and deeper in Reid’s little trap.
“Really? You’re coming to dinner?” asks Roman. “Can we have spaghetti?”
“It’s up to our guest. How’s that sound? Spaghetti. My place. Around six. Oh, and wear something nice,” adds Reid, with a devilish grin.
I’m left standing completely dumbfounded. I still don’t have my car keys. I am apparently expected for dinner tonight. And I’m going to have to cancel part two of the Gilmore Girls marathon with Jessica. Roman turns to wave bye to me as Reid leads him back into the garage, and all I can do is walk back home and wonder what the hell Reid Riggin’s idea of something nice is.
I arrive at Reid’s place after a short, uncomfortable walk across the grass separating our houses. It’s 6:07 P.M. He said around six, so I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard to follow his instructions, but I also didn’t want to show up early and look too eager. So I chose a perfectly unassuming amount of time after six to come.
I’m wearing a strapless black dress. It only comes down to mid-thigh and it shows a little more cleavage than I probably should in front of Reid Riggins. Then again, I doubt any amount of skin is really all that safe to show around him. I have on a pair of black pumps and earrings my grandma gave me. I spent a long time on my hair trying to make it look like I didn’t obsess over every last strand. The truth is I’m nervous as hell, and I spent way too long getting ready.
I don’t know why, either. Yes, he’s gorgeous. Yes, he’s sinfully sexy. But he’s also absolutely insufferable. If i
t wasn’t for the vague and admittedly unlikely threat of his baby growing in my belly, I could safely say he and I would never have a future together. Something about the certainty of that draws me to him though, as odd as that sounds. Maybe it goes back to my young rebellious teenage years when I tried to date guys that would piss my parents off. Or maybe I still have no idea what kind of guy I want to be with.
That’s not true though. I know one thing. The David Cumberfields of the world can all go extinct for all I care. I could live without guys like Mark Riggins, too, for that matter. Thinking about Mark makes me think about my bakery. I still haven’t even told Lauren about it. I definitely haven’t told my parents or my sister, and I don’t know if I will. Jennifer was understanding enough, but I know Lauren will take it harder. She’s a good friend, but she can be a little overzealous at times, and I think she might actually try to attack Mark Riggins when she finds out. And my family… well, I’ll drop off the face of the planet before I tell them. It would hurt too much to let them see me fail just like they predicted.
My mind is still bouncing from thought to thought when I knock on Reid’s door. The sound snaps me into the moment. I’m really doing this. I guiltily wonder if what I’m really doing is trying to endear myself to him more so that he might want to stick around if I’m really carrying his baby, but that’s ridiculous. I’m not going to tie myself to someone for the rest of my life because of one mistake. And that’s exactly what it was. A mistake. If it even happened.
God. I’m a complete mess right now.
The door opens. I raise my eyebrows when I see Reid is wearing a dress shirt and pants. “Wow,” I say.
Reid smirks. “Wow yourself. You look great.”
I blush. I don’t need to do anything to boost his ego. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but damn. There’s a definite sexuality to seeing him dirty and shirtless from a day of working on cars, but this look is perfectly sexy too. He even seems to have run a comb through his hair. Even in the dress shirt and pants, his masculinity is plain to see. He has enough buttons undone to show his tanned skin and the crease of muscle in the center of his chest. His sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms so that his powerful muscles are on display. And the way the dress pants hug his muscular legs is mouth watering.
“Come on in,” he says, placing his big hand on my back, coaxing me inside.
The touch should be innocent. Maybe it is to him. But it sends heat pulsing from where his hand touches through my entire body, electrifying my nerves and sending me into overdrive. My mind calls up the images that have been replaying ever since the night of the festival. Bare, muscular skin. Piercing green eyes. A cock so perfect it has to be make-believe. Something daring and wild inside me wants to do a little research tonight, to compare notes, so to speak. The only way I’ll know what really happened is if I get a glimpse beneath those clothes of his.
I follow him into the kitchen, blushing at my own thoughts. That’s all they are. Thoughts. The truth is I’m not bold enough to make any kind of move. I’m just realizing coming over here was more dangerous than I thought. If Reid is planning to get me into his bed, my ability to resist is going to be laughable right now. I’m too confused and too drawn to him. With all the uncertainty in my life right now, it’s hard not to cling to the clear message my body is sending when I’m around Reid. And that message has sex written all over it.
Seeing Roman at the table coloring sobers me up like a splash of cold water. No matter how attracted I am to Reid, he’s still my best friend’s ex. If Tara ever found out something happened between us, she would never forgive me. Even if she’s far from being a pillar of trust and loyalty, I don’t want to hurt her.
“Hi,” says Roman.
“Hey there,” I say.
“Daddy makes the best spaghetti.”
“Is that right?” I ask.
Reid moves into the kitchen and holds up a jar of store-bought sauce. There’s an opened box of noodles and steam rising from a pot on the stovetop beside him. “What can I say. I follow instructions like a champ.”
I grin. If this meal impresses Roman, Reid’s cooking skills probably don’t extend far beyond the microwave. I get a sudden urge to bake something for them. I want them to taste my cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. Watching Reid strain the pasta and listening to Roman hum is doing treacherous things to my mind. It’s making me start to imagine what life would be like if I was part of their family. Me and my unborn child. I could bake fresh cinnamon rolls for them in the morning. Reid would slide out of bed with his hair in disarray and hug me from behind, kissing me on the cheek and thanking me…
I must really be losing it if I’m daydreaming about marrying Reid. He just needs to open his mouth and piss me off, which I know he will, to squash all these crazy ideas floating around in my head.
11
Reid
Sandra’s sitting at the table beside Roman. She’s facing me, but looking down at his coloring book. I can’t help noticing that I can see up her dress from where I stand, catching just a tantalizing hint of her white panties beneath that black dress. I’m hard as a rock in an instant, and my cock isn’t the easiest to conceal when it’s hard. I smirk down at the steaming pile of pasta in the sink, carefully turning my hips slightly to avoid flashing her with the unmistakable bulge of my hard-on.
I plate up three portions and wait until she’s saying something to Roman before bringing them over to the table. I catch one more glimpse of her panties as I turn and it feels like my cock is about to explode from the pressure. It’s hard to tell in the dim light beneath the table, but I think she’s wearing cotton panties. The possibility is driving me wild. If I made her wet, those panties would stick to her like glue. I’d have to peel them off to get my mouth on her.
Fuck.
I wish I could remember more from the night of the festival. If I don’t ever get between her legs again, getting drunk that night will go down as one of my biggest regrets. Not remembering sex with her is unforgivable, and the only remedy is to take another shot. Marrying her wouldn’t hurt, either.
I push that thought down. I don’t want this to be manipulative. I may come off as a prick most of the time, but even I don’t want to trick someone into marrying me.
I hope she will keep her eyes on Roman’s coloring book as I move toward the table but she looks up. Her eyes scan me from head to toe and widen slightly when they settle on my massive erection. I can’t help smirking a little at the shock on her face.
“Uh, bon appétit,” I say, quickly sitting down, unable to stop picturing how sexy the view up her dress was.
She clears her throat and flashes a quick smile, looking down at her plate.
The uncomfortable silence is interrupted by a loud slurp as Roman sucks in a huge portion of spaghetti. Marinara sauce splatters on his shirt and covers his face in seconds. Sandra grabs a napkin and reaches to clean it up, but I wave her off.
“Don’t bother,” I say. “It’s easier to just dump him into the bathtub when he’s done. There’s no stopping the mess.”
Sandra grins and puts down the napkin, trying a bite of the spaghetti.
“How is it?” I ask.
“It’s good,” she says. “Are you going to just watch me eat, or…”
I chuckle, digging into my own portion. After a few seconds I stand up, realizing I forgot drinks. “Want a beer? Wine?”
“I’ll take a water,” she says pointedly.
I catch a little bite in her words and wonder if she’s holding a grudge over what happened when we had too much to drink at the festival. I guess I couldn’t blame her if she was. I’m about to grab a beer for myself when I think twice, realizing I don’t want to make the mistake of dulling my senses again. Not around her.
I fill up two glasses of water and pour Roman some Kool-Aid. I swear the kid’s blood is probably half Kool-Aid. I can’t get him to stop drinking it. I think he’d honestly just let himself die of thirst before he gave it up.
I glance at the clock. Still two hours until I can put Roman down for bed. Damn. She’s going to blue ball me before she even touches me if she keeps this up.
“So,” says Sandra. “Do I get my keys back now?”
I set the glasses down, taking my seat again. “Sure,” I say. “As long as you keep me happy.”
“Keep you happy?” asks Sandra. “What does it take to keep you happy?” There’s a hint of playfulness in her voice, but also an edge of warning.
“Tickle his belly. He likes that,” says Roman in a matter-of-fact tone. He follows his advice with a big slurp of spaghetti.
Sandra grins. “I may have to try that.”
She had better be careful. If she puts her hands on me, things are going to escalate real fast. I feel like I’m counting down the minutes until Roman’s bed time now.
There’s a clatter of metal as Roman’s fork slips out of his hand and lands on the floor. He moves to get it, but Sandra stops him.
“Let your daddy get it, Roman,” she says, eyes flicking up to me tauntingly.
I narrow my eyes back at her, kneeling to climb under the table. Sandra’s legs are held open beneath the table, giving me a clear shot of her panties. I raise my eyebrows in appreciation, wanting nothing more than to cup her smooth thighs in my hand and slide my way up to her warmth. I move forward, grabbing the fork and taking another long, appreciative look.
“You lost down there?” asks Sandra, widening her legs even more.
“I’m, uh, just surprised,” I say. “It’s dirtier down here than I expected. Really dirty.”