DADDY ISSUES: A SINGLE DAD ROMANCE

by Morris, Liv

  “Yes. It’s my daughter, Esmé,” Lucas said with the pride of a father. I think my ovaries blew up.

  “Lucas Shaw, you old devil.” Charlotte shook her head, grinning at Lucas. “Well, I did see something in The Post. But there’s always gossip about the Shaws. I guess this time it was true. Let me see the baby.”

  “Charlotte takes care of my mother,” Lucas whispered as we followed Charlotte to the car. I removed Esmé from her car seat as Lucas grabbed our things from the back of the car.

  “She’s beautiful. And those eyes. Just like yours Lucas. But she would’ve been just as beautiful with your green eyes, Maggie. They’re the most unique color.

  “Well…Maggie isn’t the mother, but she is my girlfriend,” Lucas said, and my heart swelled. I’d hit girlfriend status. But Charlotte had turned a deep shade of red.

  “Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry to assume.” Her hands fluttered around in the air.

  “It’s fine, Charlotte. I just found out I’m a father. I’m getting over the shock too.”

  “Well, congratulations,” Charlotte said, the color on her cheeks returning to normal. “Even if I’m confused as can be.”

  “Believe me, that’s been my constant state lately,” Lucas said.

  “Are you all staying overnight?” Charlotte asked, sounding hopeful we’d say yes.

  Lucas held up our overnight bags. “We planned on it. I want to introduce Mother to Maggie and Esmé.”

  Charlotte and I followed Lucas inside the house, though calling it a house was an understatement.

  Charlotte leaned over and whispered in my ear as we walked, “You must be someone really special. I’ve worked here for twenty years. You’re the first woman Lucas has brought here to meet his mother.”

  I bit back the smile trying to blow up my face. I wanted nothing more than to believe what we had was special, but it was such early days for us. I still didn’t feel like I knew him as well as he knew me. Maybe tonight I’d get a closer peek at the real him.

  Charlotte carried our things upstairs, and Lucas showed me around the downstairs of the house. I’d need a map to find my way back to the front door. I held Esmé close to my chest. This house was filled with vases, paintings, and sculptures that had probably cost more than a year’s tuition at my state school. When Esmé got older, this was going to be one big no-no house.

  We stopped at the entrance of a glass sunroom with plants growing everywhere. It looked like a hidden garden with its English style of iron and glass.

  Still holding Esmé, I walked behind Lucas. He stopped in front of me and moved to the side, placing his hand on the small of my back. A beautiful woman with blond hair and ice-blue eyes looked up at us.

  “Oh, Lucas, you came to visit! I didn’t think you were coming back.” His mother clapped her hands like a child, and tears started flowing down my cheeks. I understood what he tried to explain to me in the car. But seeing her in person, acting this way, broke my heart in two. “And you brought a friend. Wait. Two!”

  “This is Maggie, and the baby’s name is Esmé,” Lucas said, moving me closer with his hand. My legs had frozen in place.

  His mother rose off her cushioned chair and walked toward Esmé and me. It was like seeing an older version of Chloe with her identical blue eyes and sharp features. His mother stopped and stared at Esmé, who was sucking the life out of her thumb as usual. I worried we were overdue for a bottle.

  “Do I know this baby?” his mother asked, glancing up at Lucas. “She looks so familiar.”

  “She looks like my sister, Chloe. You know her. She comes to visit you too.”

  “Oh yes, Chloe. You’re right, the baby looks like her, and you too. It’s those eyes. Whose baby is it? Yours, Maggie?” His mother looked at me, and I glanced up at Lucas in a panic.

  “No, she’s not Maggie’s, Lilly. The baby’s mine,” Lucas’s voice broke as he spoke. I tried not to sob out loud, but it was becoming impossible. I didn’t know if there’d be anything left of my heart after today.

  “I had no idea. Congratulations, Lucas. You have a beautiful daughter.” His mother touched the side of Esmé’s cheek. “Her skin is so soft.”

  “Would you like to hold her?” I asked side-eyeing Lucas, wondering if that was okay to ask.

  “May I?” Lilly said with a hand over her heart. “I used to have a baby doll that looked like her.”

  Lucas guided his mother back to her chair, helping her sit down. He was so gentle with her, loving and tender. I placed Esmé in Lilly’s arms, and she cuddled her to her chest, just like she’d probably done with her own children.

  We stayed the afternoon with his mother in her sunroom. She fed Esmé a bottle and held her while she slept, falling head over heels in love with her grandchild, even though she didn’t know it.

  I understood everything about Lucas’s torment now. The guilt he had for the accident and the years he’d carried the shame and self-hatred around inside him. No wonder it had slowly eaten away at his soul.

  After dinner, I followed Lucas upstairs to his bedroom where we would sleep. I was carrying Esmé in my arms. She’d been dozing for a few minutes and was ready to be laid down.

  His room was larger than my apartment in New York, so we placed her sleeping pod as far away from the bed as possible. We planned on making a few noises tonight.

  Sports trophies and memorabilia from his school days were still hanging where he’d left them. His old bulletin board drew me like a magnet. Pearl Jam tickets were pinned next to Metallica. I didn’t see any girls’ photos around, which made me feel better for some reason. I guess I didn’t want to imagine anyone with a hot teenage version of Lucas.

  “Enjoying your snooping?” Lucas asked as I turned around, caught in the act.

  “I was just trying to get a feel for you as a teen.” I shrugged my shoulders innocently.

  “I want to show you something.” He took my hand in his. “Come with me.”

  I followed him to a closet door, squinting at him when our eyes met. “What’s behind this?”

  “Probably a lot of dust. So get ready.” He opened the door, and a stale odor filled my nose. He was right. “I want to show you something.”

  Lucas sat down on the wooden floor, and I joined him, side by side. “My father hated that I loved to write. One time, he burned a journal of mine, so I started hiding them from him. I haven’t looked at them since I left for college.”

  The wooden planks gave way next to Lucas’s foot. Carefully, he removed them, revealing stacks of college composition type notebooks.

  Lucas removed most of them from their hiding place, holding them as if they were made of gold. One was marked “Summer 2000.” He opened it up, stopping on a page that had what looked like a poem.

  “I wrote this after my mother’s accident.” He handed it to me, open to the page. “I know it by heart now.”

  I read the title, “Remember Lilly.” A lump formed in my throat, and I dared not read on. I handed it back to him. He was going to torture himself if I didn’t step in.

  “What else have you written?”

  “Mostly tragic stuff filled with teenage angst and hatred for my father. Maybe a few dirty pieces. Nothing new or outstanding.”

  “Read me something naughty please.” He laughed at my request.

  “I need alcohol first.” He scooted some boxes on the floor. Behind one of them was a clear bottle.

  “Peach Schnapps.” He turned the bottle over in his hands. “No expiration date. Whatta ya say? Want to pretend like we’re both seventeen again?”

  “Hand me that bottle, you sexy devil.” I snatched it from his hand, unscrewed the top, and took a swig. Then I coughed up half my lung.

  “Jesus, Maggie.” Lucas laughed and grabbed the bottle from me. “I didn’t mean act that much like a teenager. You have to sip this shit.”

  We passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. Lucas searched for the dirty poems he wrote, but I didn’t want to wait unt
il he found them. I’d prefer to act them out in person.

  I started kissing up his neck, then around his ear. “I’ve never slept with anyone before,” I said, channeling my younger, virginal self.

  “Let me be your first, Maggie. I swear, I’ll be gentle and not tell the guys in the locker room.”

  “Oh my God, did that line really work?” He waggled his brows, but I had a feeling this sexy bastard didn’t even need to say a word to get the girls back then.

  Lucas scooped me up off the floor, and I ducked for him to carry us through the door. He walked to the bed, ravishing me in a not so gentle way, making me glad the grown-up Lucas was under the covers with me.

  By some miracle, we didn’t wake up Esmé with our escapade. Fully relaxed from the busy day, we stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars scattered over the ceiling.

  “I love it here with you. Away from the city and all the crazy hustle and bustle. Everything’s so quiet. I’d forgotten what that was like.”

  “Let’s never go back,” Lucas said with a quiet laugh.

  “You know, that would be fine with me. I just can’t seem to get Manhattan to feel like home.”

  “I get it. I’m writing about a man who came to Manhattan, then realized he’d end up selling his soul to live his dream there. I’ve been working on it for a few years. I should finish it, maybe try to get it published.”

  “I like that plan,” I whispered, trailing my hand over his bare chest.

  “What about you, Peaches? What have you always dreamed of doing?”

  “I went to school to be a psychologist. But when I was a little girl, my mother took me to an alpaca farm in southern Alabama. They look similar to llamas, but they’re way sweeter and have this short hair used like wool. I fell in love with them. I told my mother someday I wanted to be a farmer and raise them too.”

  “That’s a beautiful story.” I think Lucas lied to me for the first time because that story was batshit crazy.

  “They’re the most loving animals. A farmer can’t raise one by itself though. It’ll die from loneliness.”

  “I’ve felt like that for years. Searching for something but never finding it. Then I met you and started to feel alive again. Wanting things I’d thought I didn’t deserve and would never have.”

  “It was serendipity, sweet Lucas. I believed in it for you and us.”

  37

  Maggie

  After our first night together in Lucas’s childhood bed, we woke in each other’s arms before Esmé opened her eyes. He kissed me, holding the back of my neck tenderly. We didn’t care about our morning breath, which smelled like old Peach Schnapps.

  I hitched my leg over Lucas’s hip, coming in contact with his version of a good morning hello, and I had an idea of how to return his greeting.

  “I want to make love to you.” I rose up, kneeling next to him. His sexy scruff and bad boy, tousled hair made me wild for him.

  “Roll over on to your back, handsome,” I whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

  His smirk was wicked, approving of my plans to have my way with him. He was also on his back in the blink of an eye.

  Since we’d fallen asleep au naturel, all he had to do was put on the contents of our last foil pack. I eased on top of him, straddling the part we needed to meet for the occasion. As we became one, his hands went to my hips to steady me. His fingers traveled my skin, and mine over his. I moved my hips in slow circles, enjoying the tortured roll of his eyes.

  “Maggie. You’re killing me.” But I knew my actions brought every cell in him to life. Who needed coffee when we had sex like this for breakfast?

  I gazed down into his eyes. The creased lines at the corners had softened overnight. He appeared ten years younger and brighter. Those secrets he’d kept inside had worn on his exterior too, disappearing after he shared the truth with Chloe and me.

  I cupped the side of his face, wanting to say the three words I’d waited to confess to the right man—the one who’d pledge his undying love to me. But it was too soon. Bending over, I brought our lips together to silence the words on the tip of my tongue. We needed to let our feelings grow—or his at least—so I kept that part of my heart, but gave him everything else.

  * * *

  Since Lucas left Iron Gate two months ago, he’d read every how-to-be-a-father-to-your-daughter book imaginable. He had me time how quickly he could change a diaper and joined a Welcome to Fatherhood class in midtown. He’d grown into a stinking adorable dad for his equally adorable daughter.

  But he’d also grown restless without anything to do with the type A energy that had driven his success. He didn’t need another dollar to add to his billions, so he started a foundation with J.J., helping to fund transportation for individuals with traumatic brain injuries. Many times, TBI patients missed important doctor appointments because loved ones had to work and they couldn’t drive themselves.

  Tonight, there was going to be a gala marking the official public introduction of the C.A.R Foundation—Cars Aiding Recovery. It was being held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

  No big deal, I kept telling myself, even though the exclusive celebrity Met Ball was held in the same place. There would be a VIP red carpet along with press and photographers. But the biggest freak out for me was Page Six, the celebrity section of The New York Post. They promised to be front and center at the gala to share the evening, and I would be standing next to Lucas when the cameras started flashing. My knees felt wobbly.

  I sat down on Lucas’s bed—I was pretty much living at his apartment now—and took a deep breath. I reached for my phone and called Tessa, my sweet bestie. She was the one person who knew how to calm me down when my mind ran off in all crazy directions.

  “Hey, Maggie.” Hearing her voice brought my heart rate down a bit, but I still felt shaky.

  “Girl, I’m kind of a mess here.” I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m nervous my dress is going to be wrong and I’ll end up getting ridiculed for being a nobody—or worse, a gold-digging nanny. Help.”

  “Don’t worry about that. You all make such goo-goo eyes at each other, it’s almost sickening. No one will mistake that for being fake. You two are going to dazzle them.”

  “You think so?” I bit my lips, fretting about everything.

  “I really do. And remember to take a shot of bourbon. Something about that warm liquid gives me courage.”

  I rose off the bed in a flash, walk-running to the liquor cabinet. I snatched the bottle of bourbon, not bothering to grab a glass.

  “Found some.”

  “Just pace yourself, though it’s hard to drink too much of it straight. It’s made for sipping.”

  Making my way back to the bedroom, I set the bottle down on the nightstand, glancing at the clock.

  “Jeez, I better get off the phone. The Glam Squad is supposed to be here in five minutes.”

  “See you tonight,” Tessa said.

  “I’ll be the one glued to the sexy blond, blue-eyed guy in a tux.”

  I drank a few sips of bourbon. It slid down my throat like warm butter, giving me an amber hug.

  The “beautify Maggie” crew arrived, armed with hair straighteners and rolling cases of makeup and brushes. They asked to see my gown before starting on my hair and face.

  Lucas had a stylist help me choose the gown. I decided on an Oscar de la Renta. It was strapless with emerald green velvet that matched my eyes, overlaid on a foundation of black lace. I felt like a dark princess.

  The stylist kept my hair long and slicked straight down my back, while the makeup artist highlighted my green eyes and used my Golly That’s Red lipstick as the showstopper for my lips.

  Examining myself in the mirror, I looked like a woman who had a fairy godmother wave her magic wand and transform me. I felt formal, yet in a comfortable way, but I had to admit, my eyes had stars in them. I was like Cinderella going to meet her prince at the ball. My heart fluttered thinking about the night ahead. />
  Mrs. Wilson was watching Esmé for us tonight at her home. I’d stopped taking care of her son, but we’d remained friends, and became closer, having play dates together, though Esmé just smiled and drooled through most of them.

  Lucas: I’m on my way back to the apartment.

  Me: I’m ready, but will be hiding out in your office with some bourbon. I want to surprise you after you’re dressed.

  Lucas: I can’t wait to see you and the dress. You’ve been so sneaky.

  I smiled like the Cheshire Cat. I’d kept everything about tonight a secret—even down to the fact that undergarments didn’t work with this gown.

  I heard the click of the front door as I stood against the cool wall of windows behind Lucas’s desk. My heart began to beat faster in anticipation. Would he like what he saw when I walked out of his office? Would we be late when he noticed my slightly overflowing cleavage? My boobs were his weakness.

  Minutes felt like hours as I waited. Finally, I heard the tapping of his dress shoes coming down the hallway. Hand at my throat, the suspense killing me.

  “Maggie,” Lucas called out. “I going to open the door now.”

  I stood still, facing the door with my arms at my side, waiting for him to enter. When he opened the door, he stepped inside and froze in place, his eyes scanning over me. I could feel the heat of them against my skin.

  “Fuck, Maggie. You’re a goddess.”

  He crossed the office to me in two long strides, then circled his hands around my waist, holding me tight as he gazed down at me, his eyes turning to the sex-needy navy blue.

  Forget needing bourbon to relax, I was going to have hot limo sex. Go me!

  “The things I feel and want to do seeing you like this…you’re going to drive me wild tonight. I’m also going to want to throttle any man who looks at you.”

  I threaded my hands behind his neck, my five-inch heels giving me the added height to reach the skin of his throat, my fingers running over the tempting scruff on his jaw.

  “You know,” I singsonged, “I remember watching the red carpet arrivals of celebrity couples on E! Network. They’d get out of their limos and have their clothes straightened by stylists. It was like there had been some hanky-panky on the way there.”