Sweet and Sassy Daddies

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Sweet and Sassy Daddies Page 69

by Natalie Ann


  Trace woke early Saturday morning and frowned at his ceiling. He wasn’t happy with the way he’d left things with Bailey last night. There was an ever-widening distance between them, and he didn’t know what to do to reach her. He missed his girl.

  Sighing, he threw back the navy-blue duvet and sat on the edge of the bed, bare legs mottling in the cool air. Bailey teased him about being an old woman, but he hated getting overheated while trying to sleep. The house was quiet—too quiet. He’d purchased the Cape Cod cottage overlooking the ocean after separating from Sally and never regretted it. When he won custody of his daughter, the first thing he did was install a pool in the backyard. She loved to swim, and he’d wanted her to have a space she was comfortable in after the upheaval of the divorce. She’d seemed happy. Now he couldn’t tell how she felt. He couldn’t remember being so contrary when he was a teen—maybe it was a girl thing.

  He rubbed his knees, grimacing at the residual ache from the plane trip. Being a tall guy had its disadvantages. Maybe a run would help. He rose and drew his track pants out of the stack of freshly folded laundry he hadn’t had the time to put away before his trip to Vancouver.

  A few minutes later, he was on the sand inhaling the scent of brine and decomposing kelp that lined the beach. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their shrill squawks an accompaniment to the soft whoosh of the waves. He started out slow, pacing himself in preparation for the five-kilometer loop he planned to travel. Sunrise painted the sky as bright as his daughter’s nails in shades of yellow, pink and blue, promising a beautiful day—welcome after the rainy, cold winter they’d endured.

  He was nearing the stairs leading up to the road at end of the beach when he noticed a guy running ahead of him. Was that… “Hey, Jake. Wait up.”

  The other man slowed and turned to jog backwards until he caught up. “Trace. What are you doing out and about so early on a Saturday morning?”

  Trace’s lips quirked. “I could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have a beautiful new bride to cuddle?”

  Jacob’s neck reddened. “I’m not supposed to say anything yet, but Josie’s pregnant. Morning sickness is giving her hell. She wanted me to ‘quit hovering’, her words, so I decided to go for a run.”

  Trace slapped his shoulder. “Wow, man, congrats. You deserve a second chance more than anyone, truly.”

  The flush climbed Jake’s cheeks. “Should we hug now, or what?” he joked, though Trace could tell he was touched. “After I lost Annie and Jane was injured, I never figured on falling in love again, but Josie… she’s special. She makes me happy. Jane, too.”

  Envy gripped Trace’s chest. He reached out and gave his friend a swift man-hug. “A baby, huh?”

  Jacob’s grin was a mile wide. “Jane’s going to have a brother or sister.”

  “Or both,” Trace teased. “Josie might have twins.”

  “Bite your tongue, man.” Jake laughed. “What about you? Are you ever going to give marriage another try?”

  Trace shook his head even as a vision of Mona filled his mind as he’d seen her last night in her bathrobe. She’d been pretty as a teenager; but she was beautiful as a woman. “Nah, not me. I learned my lesson the first time.” The hard way.

  “Well, if you change your mind, Josie has a few single friends she could introduce to you—as long as you don’t scare them off with that scowl,” Jacob said pointedly.

  “I’m a little old to have my buddy setting me up on a date, however well-meaning.” Trace turned his moody gaze toward the water. “With the election coming up in a few months, I’m too busy even if I was interested.”

  “I’m surprised you’re going after it again. Don’t get me wrong,” Jacob said when Trace shot him a questioning frown. “It’s just that you’ve been mayor for a few years now, I thought you’d be ready to give that stress a pass—spend some time with Bailey before she’s old enough to head off to university.”

  Was that why he’d been so discontented lately? It was hard to imagine his baby girl grown and leaving home, but in all reality, it was only a couple of years away. And then he’d be all alone.

  A seal popped its head out of the tide, its chocolate brown eyes wise as he stared at Trace. Was he lonely, too? Did he have a family waiting for him, or did he spend his days in an endless loop of searching for food and avoiding predators?

  A moment later, the animal was gone, leaving Trace even more restless than before. He took a deep breath and turned to Jake. “My turn for revelations. When Sally got the building permit for her spa, she used my name to get it.” He looked for the other shoe to drop in his friend’s eyes and didn’t have long to wait.

  “Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Your ex is one for the books.” Jake swore under his breath. “I should have never agreed to build the damn place, then you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “It was a big project, of course you needed to take it. Besides, she would have just hired a contractor from the mainland if you hadn’t agreed to do the job. My ex-wife is a determined woman, she even tricked her father into signing the land over to her.”

  “You sure know how to pick ’em, dude.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Trace muttered. “You know how much the town hates the spa taking up prime waterfront space. I have to find a way to make it up to them and I need the mayoral seat to accomplish that.”

  “Well, you have our votes and anything else we can do to help, just ask.”

  “Thanks, Jacob, appreciated.” Another couple jogged by, raising their hands in greeting. Not in the mood to make nice with his potential voters, he nodded toward the stairs. “Ready to lose a sprint?”

  “Ha,” Jake snorted. “In your dreams. Loser buys breakfast?”

  Trace wasn’t above cheating if it meant free food. He took off, sand spraying beneath his heels. “You’re on,” he called over his shoulder. If only he could outrun his problems so easily.

  ***

  “I heard an interesting rumor the other day. Are you considering running for mayor?” Mr. Hayward asked, jerking Mona’s attention back to her customer.

  “You know how people talk,” she murmured, frowning. He was losing weight again, the skin around his face loose and sagging like a turkey’s neck.

  He nodded. “I don’t normally listen to gossip, but it came from a credible source.” He glanced around the busy room and leaned forward. “I’m an old man, and you certainly have no reason to take my advice, but I hope you’ll at least consider what I have to say.” He turned his teaspoon over and over as though contemplating his choice of words. When he looked up, his watery blue eyes reminded her of the ocean. “I love my daughter, though I know she can be hard for some people to bear.”

  Mona couldn’t argue with that.

  He smiled, his face softening. “She was such a cheerful little girl, always singing and dancing. When my wife died, the light disappeared from our home.” He used his hankie to wipe his eyes. “Sally blamed herself. It wasn’t her fault, of course—a heart condition, you see—but no one could get through to her. She was the same age when it happened as my Bailey, just fifteen.” He sighed. “You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this; but because of that traumatic event, my daughter is… complex. She may be divorced from her husband, but I can assure you, she won’t stand by if someone tries to steal—in her eyes—him or his career. I’m sorry to say, I believe she could be vindictive if crossed.” He subsided, withering in his chair.

  The roar of the crowd was muted as everything Mona had just heard tumbled in her head like dirty laundry going through a wash cycle. Except, she didn’t think she’d be able to remove the stains Sally had left behind. Maybe she’d be better off bowing out of the race before it began. Lord knows, she’d been having second thoughts on the wisdom of going up against Trace anyway. It was better, and safer, if she remained under his radar. But dammit, he’d allowed that spa to be developed, what else was he going to do to ruin their quiet island?

  “Mr. Hayward, I appr
eciate you telling me all of this. I know it must have been hard for you, but I truly believe my platform could win me the election—I have to try.” She rose and moved around the table to give him a hug. “I promise I’ll attempt to stay out of your daughter’s way if you promise to try my blackberry peach pie.” She straightened and smiled. “Oh, and by the way, how did you hear I was entering the election anyway? I haven’t told more than a handful of people.”

  “There isn’t much that gets by these big ears,” he said, tapping one with a finger. “A piece of your homemade pie sounds lovely, thank you, dear. Just remember what I said, will you? I’d hate to see you hurt.”

  Mona nodded around the lump in her throat. That he would try to protect her from his own daughter was the sweetest thing. She’d often wondered if he’d known what Sally had done to break up her and Trace. But then, if their love had been strong enough, nothing could have come between them. So, Sally had done her a favor. If only her heart would listen to her head.

  And speak of the devil; her brother had just walked in with Trace Michaels hot on his heels. She patted Mr. Hayward’s shoulder and moved in a fog to the pie shelf, her gaze glued to the two men being ushered to a table by Amber. She was so grateful her daughter took after her side of the family with thick, wavy brown hair and blue-gray eyes. Though, if you knew where to look, there were obvious similarities to her father in the pointed stubbornness of her chin and the brush of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Sometimes, Mona regretted not filling in the father’s name on her daughter’s birth certificate, lying to Amber and everyone else about who he was, but she’d been young and heartbroken at the time—it had just seemed easier. Now, the omission felt like a quagmire, threatening to drag her under.

  “Are you cutting that pie or keeping it all for yourself?” Mona’s best friend, Liz, said with a grin.

  Mona jerked, and almost flipped the pie plate onto the floor. “You startled me. Where did you come from?”

  “No surprise there. I’m not much competition against two of Sweetheart Cove’s handsomest men.” She waggled her brows suggestively.

  “Ew, that’s my brother you’re ogling,” Mona whispered. “I’m telling Josie on you.”

  Liz shrugged one slim shoulder. “Go ahead. She already knows I adore him. I mean, what’s not to like? But I was actually eyeballing our illustrious, single, mayor. Do you think I stand a chance?” She spun in a circle, preening like a prom queen.

  Mona laughed, though her stomach tightened. “You won’t know unless you ask. It’s the twenty-first century, girl. If you want Trace Michaels, then go and get him.” At least then she could quit playing the what-if game.

  Liz dropped the pose and batted Mona’s arm, once again almost tipping the pie off the shelf. “Ow! What did you do that for?”

  “Because you’re an idiot,” Liz said. She dipped her finger into some spilled filling and licked it up. “Mmm, this is delicious. What is it?”

  “Blackberry peach,” Mona answered absently. “Why do you say that?”

  Liz sighed and eyed her with big green eyes. “Friends don’t poach on a friend’s property. You’ve had a thing for Trace Michaels since high school. And yes, I know that was forever ago, but can you honestly tell me you’re over him?”

  Mona stared across the room, watching Trace smile up at his daughter while she took his order. Why did life have to be so complicated?

  Chapter Six

  By the time Bailey dragged herself out of bed, the sun was high in the sky and seemed to frown at her for being lazy. She wasn’t usually so tardy, but the argument with her dad had kept her awake half the night. He treated her like a little kid even though she was a grown woman—well, almost. At any rate, if she wanted to color her hair it should be her business. There were plenty of things he did that she didn’t approve of—talk about a double standard.

  She dug through her backpack for the clean clothes she’d grabbed from home and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. The house was silent other than the soft pad of her bare feet on the wood flooring and her heart skipped a beat. Thanks to her choice of horror movies last night she was spooked. She hurried the last few feet to the washroom and locked the door. Turning on the light, she froze at the strange face in the mirror. A hand went up and tentatively touched pink strands of hair, vivid against the white blond she’d chosen. Her eyes looked huge this morning, dark and mysterious. And the skin she’d always found pale and plain now reminded her of a porcelain doll Grandfather had given her as a child.

  But, would it be enough?

  In her saner moments, she knew Billy Kennedy wasn’t worth the trouble if she had to change who she was for him to take notice, but just once, she wanted to be attractive to guys. To Billy. She really didn’t want to be the only one at her sweet sixteen party without a date—how humiliating.

  She sighed and started to turn toward the shower when she noticed the pink sticky note tacked to the bottom of the mirror.

  Called in to work at the diner. Come for lunch?

  A

  Guess that explained why the house was so quiet. Everyone was working, except her sorry self. Amber and her mom were the best. If not for their constant encouragement, Bailey didn’t know what she would have done. Her mom barely made time for her, and her dad… well, they weren’t getting along like they used to. Her shoulders slumped. She hated fighting with him. He’d always been her rock, a safe harbor in a frightening world. She’d never admit it to him, but the divorce had messed with her head. There were times when she’d suffered like a chew toy getting ripped apart between two dogs. And when her mom gave up, walking away from not only her marriage but her kid, Bailey’s world had turned upside down. Even though she lived with her dad, and he tried his best, she still felt abandoned.

  Her phone chimed with an incoming message. She set her clothes on the counter next to the sink and read the note from Amber.

  Awake yet?

  Just, she answered.

  Hurry up, Billy is here—#heartthrob

  Bailey grinned foolishly even as her cheeks grew hot. Who is he with?

  His girlfriend—jk. His parents, I think. Just hurry!

  K, don’t let him leave.

  Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Bailey held her breath and stared at the screen, willing her friend to reply. Then, finally she did, but it wasn’t what Bailey wanted to hear.

  Your dad is here, too.

  Her stomach dropped. So much for that. She couldn’t go now. It was bad enough risking Billy’s censure, she couldn’t handle her dad, as well.

  See you when you get home. I don’t feel too good.

  Dot, dot, dot again, like condemnation pokes in the chest.

  You can do this.

  Could she? It was a public place, after all. She didn’t even need to acknowledge Billy Kennedy. It would be enough for him to see the new her. It had to be.

  Be there in ten.

  Ready or not, world, here comes the new and improved Bailey Michaels.

  Chapter Seven

  Trace leaned back and enjoyed his coffee as the wash of voices rolled over him in the busy little café. He didn’t come to Sweet Treats often, partly because Mona owned it and he still felt like a gangly teenager around her, and partly because his associates generally preferred fancier dining—like the swanky vegan restaurant at the spa. And yes, he realized his ex-wife was playing a one-upmanship game with his ex-girlfriend. That was Sally, she had to be the center of attention.

  “Is there anything else I can get you today?” Amber asked, their bill in hand.

  “Are you still coming to Jane’s party tomorrow?” Jacob asked, pulling a credit card from his wallet.

  “Mom and I are looking forward to it,” the teen assured him. “She’s decorating the coolest cake, wait until you see it.”

  That’s right, it was Jacob’s daughter’s birthday. He seemed to remember receiving an invitation for him and Bailey a while ago. They’d have to go on a last-minute shopping
trip or settle with a gift card—just another way she’d think he’d failed as a father.

  “What’s with the heavy sigh?” Jake handed over the debit machine and waited for his receipt.

  Trace ignored the question to look up at Amber. “Is Bailey still at your house? We have stuff to do today.”

  She slid a sideways glance at a family sitting across the restaurant before answering. “She was supposed… oh, here she is.” She grinned as Bailey tugged open the glass door and rushed into the room, then skidded to a stop, her cheeks flushed.

  Trace couldn’t get over the difference the cut and color had made to her face. His little girl had turned into a young woman before his eyes. He lifted his hand to catch her attention, but her gaze went straight to the family Amber had kept watch over—a shaggy looking boy and his parents. Suspicion raised its ugly head when his daughter fluffed her shortened hair, raised her chin, and strode up to the teen's table as though she owned it. Who was that kid, and what did he mean to Bailey?

  “Oh, oh. Got your shotgun handy, Dad?” Jacob joked.

  “Not funny,” Trace growled. “Do you know that boy?” he asked Amber without taking his gaze off of the stealer-of-his-daughter’s-innocence.

  “Uhm, I think he’s in her class? I gotta go; customers are waiting. See you tomorrow, Uncle Jacob.” She scurried away before the interrogation could begin.

  He didn’t recognize the family, maybe they were tourists? “You know them?” he asked Jake. He was a contractor who had his finger on the pulse of newcomers to town.

  “The Kennedys, they moved here a year or two ago. The dad is a vet. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet.” Jake smirked over the rim of his cup. Easy for him to do, his daughter was only eight.

  Trace started to rise, planning on introducing himself as Sweetheart Cove’s influential mayor, but a feminine hand planted itself on his shoulder and forced him back to his seat. He frowned as Mona moved to block his view of the other table.

 

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