by Lara Swann
Sugar Daddy
A Single Dad Next Door Romance
Lara Swann
Copyright © 2019 Lara Swann
All Rights Reserved
Cover Image: Photo I T A L O at Shutterstock
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue and everything else are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to people or events, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Mailing List
More Books by Lara Swann
About the Author
Chapter One
Kelsey
Today is going to be a good day.
The start of a good week, and a good month, and a good year.
I tell myself that decidedly as I add my favorite bead-and-feather earrings to my outfit, giving the mirror a wide smile as I release them and twist my head so they swing gently against my neck.
It’s immensely satisfying that - right now - I fully believe it, too. The good-feeling in my gut feels like it’s here to stay.
It’s been a month, and I’m surprised at just how happy I am to be back in my small hometown again. I’ve always thought I was the kind of person that could pack up and travel the world forever - and who knows, maybe one day I could - but right now, the idea of getting back into my day-to-day life and catching up on everything I’ve missed is all the excitement I want.
Of course, not enough happens around here to really catch up on, but it’s the little things that matter to me. My family and friends - and mostly, if I’m honest, my nieces and nephews. I want to see Kieran’s first tooth. Amy riding her new bicycle. Help my exhausted sister potty-train Jackson. Find out what Lily’s obsessed with now, and whether she and Katy have developed any more secret-sister-language that they might let me in on if I ask nicely.
A month might not be very long in the grand scheme of things, but when it comes to kids? You can miss so much.
I twirl lightly in front of the mirror, knowing it’s silly but enjoying the feeling of lightness and ease anyway, and seizing that feeling inside of me so that I can hold onto it for as long as possible. It’s so different from how I felt when I left.
The moment that Tyson announced his engagement to Jessie, I knew I simply had to get away. It didn’t matter where, or what, or for how long - I just couldn’t be here. I couldn’t receive the town-wide invitation to the engagement party. I couldn’t see all the congratulations. I couldn’t deal with the sidelong glances my way, or the cautious queries about how I was holding up - the pretending that oh yes, I’m totally fine, been over that for months.
The ironic thing is that I was over him - but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a punch in the gut to see someone else getting the proposal I’d waited for years for after only six months. Turns out, all his excuses…didn’t mean a thing. We weren’t too young. He didn’t need more time. The idea of marriage didn’t bother him.
It was just obviously…the idea of marrying me.
Yeah. Ego, meet sledgehammer.
So getting over that? Well, that called for bringing out the big guns.
Like, taking all the money I’d secretly saved for a wedding and disappearing to fulfill my lifelong dream of traveling Europe.
Stupid ex related drama has nothing on that. And as it turns out, going alone was better than any potential-honeymoon ever would have been. I got to do all the things I wanted and I didn’t have anyone complaining or slowing me down the whole time.
It was exactly what I needed, and now - well, now I feel surprisingly zen about the whole thing. He’s got his life and all the things he obviously wanted - and I’ve got mine, which is better off now that I’m not waiting around for him anymore, and far too awesome to possibly complain about.
I doubt it would even bother me if I bump into them on the street. Which is a damn good thing, since that’s almost inevitable in a small town like Ashton - especially as they work just a few doors down from me, on main street in the local Town Hall.
Yeah, they work together. Figures - but the way I see it, that’s their problem to deal with.
And yeah, sure, half the population of Ashton probably works somewhere on that street.
It’s called main street, as if there were actually any other streets in the town center that people might get confused between. Trust me, no one ever has. It’s one long street with a few side roads and the occasional pretty square, and that’s about it.
I take one last look over my reflection, feeling both mentally and physically fortified as I smile to myself, before reaching for my shoulder bag and heading out of the house.
The sun greets me with it’s early-morning light, the promise of the heat of the day already caressing my face. At this hour, it’s a welcome warmth and I stop for a moment to breathe deeply.
Home. It smells like home.
As much as I loved the hustle and bustle of Europe’s many cities, the crowds of people and exotic new places…there’s nothing quite like the crisp, clean feel of the air here.
It’s not until I start walking again that I notice the ‘Sold’ sign next door has come down - to be replaced by a few pots of herbs and flowers along the edge of the property.
“Huh.” I murmur to myself, somewhat amused. “Months of waiting after Sally moved out and then you get new neighbors as soon as you go away.”
I cast another look over at the house, but I can’t spot any other obvious differences - no clue as to who might have bought the place - and I make a mental note to stop by later tonight to welcome them into the neighborhood. Not that the cluster of five houses grouped together is much of a neighborhood, but we all try to look out for each other.
It’s probably Jeff and Katie. They were the only ones interested, last I heard.
I walk into town, only getting waylaid two or three times by excited exclamations followed by rapid-fire questions about my trip, which I count as a success. Maybe I won’t be too late today. I respond with the same enthusiasm and by the time I get to Ashton’s main street - Ash Street, of course - my social calendar for the next week already feels nicely full.
This time, I see the change as soon as I get halfway down the street.
In fact, I couldn’t miss it - not with the bright pink-and-purple facade and cheery pennants fluttering in the light breeze, directly opposite the building I’m heading to.
“What the…” I speed up, my curiosity piqued. “Maybe something actually did happen here while I was away.”
I can’t help smiling, either. I’ve always been proud of the local stores we have in Ashton - and the town has worked hard to make sure it stays that way - but I c
an’t say we’ve had anything quite as…colorful…as this before. Sarah’s Stories, the old second hand bookstore only a few doors down, is a light shade of green - but that doesn’t really compare.
It makes me wonder what some of the older generation think. I’m sure I’ll find that out soon enough. They’re not shy.
“Ohh…”
I come to a stop in front of it, looking up at the golden lettering and taking in the gorgeously elaborate cakes in the window display with slightly wide eyes.
Fairytale Cupcakes.
My mouth twitches, and I wonder whether they’re doing themselves a disservice there. From the look of the seven-layer staircase-and-ballroom cake in front of me - that has to be a Cinderella reference from the incredibly delicate glass slipper in the middle of it - they clearly do far more than just cupcakes here. Or…ohh…the chocolate tower cake that has a cascade of vanilla frosting with golden threads woven through it. That takes me a moment longer to place, until I spot the arch of the window…Rapunzel, it has to be!
Or maybe Tangled, if we’re doing Disney.
Thank god for all those nieces and nephews, huh? Disney, I can do.
By the time I’m done gawking at all the intricate work on display and guessing at the references in the different cakes I can see, I’m grinning - and automatically reaching for the door. No way I can resist a place like this.
Besides, as far as I’m concerned, why shouldn’t you have dessert after breakfast too?
A cupcake sounds like the perfect way to start the day. Especially my first day back.
I push open the door and walk inside - only to pull up short almost immediately as I get a good look at the guy behind the counter. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting from whoever had set up shop while I was away, but it definitely wasn’t…that.
Him.
Is it awfully sexist of me to say I wasn’t expecting it to be a guy at all - let alone one who looks quite like…
Wow.
He’s wearing an apron and a chef’s hat - the latter of which I suspect is purely for effect, and maybe to convince stunned disbelievers like me that yes, he actually runs this place - but none of that does anything to disguise the hard, muscular body underneath. His shoulders and chest are stretching the tight t-shirt he’s wearing to its limit, his muscles rippling with every movement as he transfers cupcakes from a tray into the display counter in front of him. And, I mean, those arms. My god, what a woman would do to have those wrapped around her, to be able to run her hand along the bare skin, following the twist and whirl of ink there and—
He looks up at the clinking of the bell chimes above the door - straight at me - and I kick the impulsive fantasy out of my mind before I have the chance to feel awkward about it. Or about the rush of heat that goes right down to my center. At least it doesn’t go up to my face - not yet, anyway.
He offers me a wide, easy smile as he straightens, and I try not to notice the little dimple that makes on one side of his mouth, or just how easy-on-the-eyes that beautiful face is. Blue eyes, golden-brown hair flopping to one side over them, and a ruggedness that’s softened by the light in his eyes and the smile on his face.
Double wow.
I instantly feel sorry for all the girls in this town whose hearts he’s inevitably destined to break - and the poor guy who won’t be able to fend them off, even if he had all the muscular strength in the world.
“Hey there.” He says, and even his voice is caramel-liquid-honey.
Yeah. Poor girls.
I belatedly realize that I’m still just standing there in the doorway, and take a look around the place - as if that’s what had pulled my attention this whole time, and not the guy at the back of it - before giving him a full smile back and walking up to the counter. I’m almost bouncing, partly from the adrenaline of being suddenly assaulted with all those thoughts - and partly because nothing unexpected ever happens in this town, so coming home to both cupcakes and the eye-candy serving them…yeah, a girl could get pretty high from a sugar rush like that.
The store is decorated with the same bright, lively feeling as it gives off outside - though some of the pinks and purples are toned down enough that it’s not overwhelming, replaced with cheery yellow walls and quirky princess-themed pictures scattered around the place. The first half of the shop is set up as a cafe - with ramshackle, colorful tables and chairs that don’t match each other at all - with a huge display and selection of cakes and other goodies down one wall, and a display counter at the back.
It’s quiet at this time of the morning, with only a couple of women drinking coffee and talking quietly to each other in the corner - clearly not everyone agrees with me about the breakfast-dessert thing - but I can already picture how bustling and busy it will get later on. I can already see it being the new gossip hotspot of Ashton, the perfect place for all the single ladies - and not-so-single ladies too, I imagine - to get together surrounded by all the…desserts.
“Hey.” I respond in the same easy tone as I approach, enjoying the little spark of heat I get from holding his gaze before glancing down to look at the cupcakes on display.
Just like the cakes in the window, they’re creative, intricately designed - and more than a little enigmatic.
‘Fairy Princess SURPRISE’? Just what kind of a cupcake is that?
“Are you new in town?” His melted-honey voice brings my gaze back up again, and I blink. “If you’re looking for somewhere to stay or a couple of good hiking trails, I can give you a few recommendations—”
“Me?” I repeat, before the laughter bubbles out of me. “Hey, I’ve lived in this little place my whole life. You on the other hand, are most definitely new here.”
And he’ll probably still be new in twenty years’ time, if he sticks around that long. We get occasional tourists and holidaymakers passing through - hikers and fishers on their way to Ochoco National Forest mostly - but people actually moving here? That’s rare.
His mouth twitches with amusement, those eyes warm as he looks back at me, but before he can say anything a high-pitched voice answers for him.
“We just moved here!”
I look over at as a cheekily grinning, freckled face appears above the counter, bouncing a little as she leans against the top of it - I’d guess to balance herself on a chair she’s just scrambled onto. Her eyes sparkle with the same warm blue of the man standing next to her, she’s got her own smaller version of a chef’s hat that’s slightly precariously skewed to one side of her head and a slight smudge of chocolate to one side of her mouth.
“Oh, did you now?” I ask her, my surprise shifting almost immediately into the usual indulgence I feel towards my own little nieces.
“Yep!” She nods dramatically and I have a moment to worry for the hat, before I realize it’s clipped into her hair, the long braid whipping up and down her back.
The man in front of me wraps an arm around her, his smile softening for a moment before he turns his attention back to me and chuckles.
“Lived here all your life, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at me, and that charming sparkle is back in his eyes. “I thought everyone who lived here had already come to investigate our little store by now.”
Somehow, I’m sure he’s right about that.
“I’m Liam - and this is my daughter and cupcake-extraordinaire, Maya. She’s in charge of the ideas, designs and impossible demands that I spend my time struggling to create. You can see the culmination of our efforts right in front of you. They’re not too bad, I promise. Mostly.”
The humor in his expression is so warm and inviting that I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling since I came in here, the lightness and - yes, sweetness - of the atmosphere in here invading my chest and making something within me spin.
I look at the two of them smiling at each other, this big, powerful man tugging on his little girls’ braid and standing in front of all these fairytale-themed cupcakes…that he made…and I just have to take a moment.
Oh my gosh, what have I walked into here?
I thought this was pretty damn perfect before - but now? It’s just too much sweetness to handle. I have to stop myself from going ‘awww’ right here and now in front of them - and even though I manage that, my stomach is still doing flips at the idea of a man like this. That this might possibly be for real.
The way he looks at his daughter, though…that tells me that it is.
“Kelsey.” I offer, reaching over the counter to offer him my hand.
Instead of shaking it like I expect, he flips it and gives a half-bow with an elegant little flourish as he brings it to his lips. My heart skips a beat at the gesture, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes as he comes up from it with a wriggle of his eyebrows, grin flashing again.
“Here at Fairytale Cupcakes, we like to do things the old fashioned way.”
My goodness, this guy could use charm as some kind of deadly weapon. Hell, with that body as well, maybe he could be some kind of charm-warrior, gorgeous smile backed up by military-sharp strength—Kelsey. Shut up.
“Nice touch.” I say, with a grin. I can just imagine how well flourishes like that are working for him so far. “If Hollywood ever needs another Prince Charming, I wouldn’t be surprised if they look you up.”
Something flickers across his face - so quick, I’m not sure whether I imagined it - but for the first time since I walked in the store, I get the feeling there’s more to Liam than his gorgeous looks, the easy charm he turns on and the sugary-sweetness surrounding him.
It scratches at my natural curiosity - that itch I’ve never been able to subdue - and for a moment I almost say something, before I catch myself and let the moment pass, turning my attention to Maya and offering her my hand too.
After Liam’s example, I half-wonder what she’s going to do with it, but she doesn’t have any hesitation before taking it and shaking it exaggeratedly, my arm flying up and down for a moment.
“It’s lovely to meet you.” I say to her, before turning back to Liam to include him in the gesture.
“So, Kelsey…” He starts, his smile fully back in place as he says my name like he’s testing it out on his tongue, the sound of it teasing my senses. “What kept you from our store for all this time? Please don’t tell me you have some unnatural dislike of cupcakes and sweet things, or…god, you’re not really far gone and doing something silly like dieting, are you? I have plenty of cures for such things, I promise - right here.”