by Mia Madison
"Daddy!" Elizabeth jumped up and down at the sight of Michael carrying a breakfast tray, "are we having breakfast in bed?" Without waiting for an answer, she launched herself onto the bed and scrambled into the middle. Crossing her legs, she folded her hands primly in her lap and waited to be served.
Daddy. Those were my worst fears realized.
I looked back at Michael and we both began to mouth the words, "I'm sorry," to each other at the same time. This was getting more surreal by the minute.
He walked into the room and sat the tray down on the bed - and I tried not to gag at the bowl of oatmeal. "Maybe we should let Devon enjoy her breakfast in peace," he offered and gently pulled my bra off her head and tossed it onto the chair with the rest of my clothing. Did it get more embarrassing?
Elizabeth was having none of that, "Oh, she won't mind," she looked up at her father and fluttered her lashes at him, "we're having a conversation, it would be rude to just leave now." Her hands were spread out like she was explaining the ways of the world to him and I had to bite back a laugh.
"I think she's right," I declared in the same tone, "besides, there is no way I can eat all of this food." Honestly, that was more than true. Not only was there water, but coffee and coconut water dispersed around plates of eggs, toast, waffles, and that gross bowl of oatmeal. Besides, I needed a moment to gather my wits, and she seemed like a great diversion.
"Yay!" She yelled in such a high-pitched scream that my eyes almost rolled back into my head. Michael tried to shush her, but she had already moved on to inspecting the tray of food.
"I want waffles," she gushed and her whole body fidgeted in anticipation.
"Well, Devon is our guest," Michael scolded softly, "we should ask her what she would like first."
That stopped her in her tracks as she looked at me, obviously hoping I would choose something else.
"I think I'll stick with coffee," I reached for the mug, but he handed me a shot glass instead. "Hair of the dog?" I saw him duck his head down to cut up one waffle into bite sized pieces.
"Even better," he murmured as he handed his daughter the plate.
They were super cute together, but I was still trying to process that he had a daughter. I never even knew he was a parent. I watched the two of them and wondered how it all came about - and then almost gagged on the contents of the shot glass. "Ugh! What was that?"
Elizabeth laughed at my funny face and Michael handed me a bottle of coconut water to douse the taste. "Pickle juice," he laughed, "an old family recipe."
"Yikes," I smacked my lips at the after taste and took another swig of water, "you need to find another recipe."
When I drained the last of the bottle, a cup of coffee was waiting for me in his outstretched hands and I swear I could have kissed him… again. Not that it was the right time to discuss the matter, but I couldn't help wonder how I had ended up in the situation - and who might have witnessed it.
"So, Michael," I hesitated, "last night-"
"I was at Nana Jill's last night," Elizabeth informed me, and then popped a waffle piece in her mouth and sighed as she savored the tasty morsel. "Do you know my Nana Jill?"
"No," Michael jumped in, "I don't think she knows your Nana Jill." He ran his fingers through her hair to put it back in order from her makeshift hat then went on, "why don't you run to the kitchen and get yourself a juice pack to go with your pancakes." He steadied her plate as she jumped off the bed and a moment later we were alone.
"You undressed me?" I accused him with as much vigor as I could under the circumstances.
"No, I dressed you," he retorted, "you undressed yourself."
Fuck.
"So," I all but moaned, "what exactly happened last night."
Michael chuckled a bit, as if remembering a delightful time, and I cringed. I was never going to be able to show my face anywhere ever again.
"You were doing well - relatively well," he amended, "until the drive home when you fell asleep in the truck."
"Oh," I said, the waited for the kicker.
"I didn't have your address," he went on, "so I brought you to my house-"
"-and your daughter wasn't home," I confirmed, then asked more anxiously, "are you married?"
"No, Elizabeth was staying with her grandmother last night, and I'm very much divorced."
I know I shouldn't have, but my heart skipped a beat on that little bit of news. With those details out of the way, I wanted to get back to his explanation, "So, what happened next?"
"Well, you woke up well enough to come into the house under your own steam, but…"
"But?" I could feel the shoe dropping.
"Let's just say that you weren't in any shape to go anywhere, so I… umm… helped put you to bed."
Oh my gawd, the way he said it was like he was putting his daughter to bed. "And nothing happened," I wiggled my eyes a bit and he laughed.
"No," he shook his head, "aside from some very interesting dance moves, nothing happened."
"Fuck," I swore and buried my face in my hands.
"That didn't happen either," he laughed and then said more seriously, "I'm not interested in taking anything that's not freely given - and you were in no shape for that." He moved in closer and I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye. He was about to say more when his daughter bounded back into the room with a juice box in her hand and launched back onto the bed.
Michael handed me a piece of toast slathered with honey and then fixed the straw of Elizabeth's juice box. It was obvious all conversation on the subject was over, so I concentrated on keeping down my toast and coffee and watched as the two of them planned their day.
They were so freakin cute together that my heart ached. Elizabeth spoke with the authority of someone who knew what she wanted, and Michael made sure she saw all her options.
Breakfast in bed was worlds away from my own childhood experiences. My father was a strict military man through and through - up at zero six hundred hours with the bunk sharply made was a daily requirement. He bounced around the world on assignment, and my mother and I dutifully followed behind. That was, until the day I was bounced off to live with my grandparents.
How sad was it that I was jealous of a child? Very sad.
"Devon?" When I came out of my musings, Elizabeth was waving her hand in front of my face and calling out my name. "So, do you want to go to the zoo with us?"
I didn't want to dash the hopeful look on her face, but I was suddenly feeling out of place. Last night I was looking for a quick fling to get over my life going to hell. I didn't want to pull this little girl down with me.
"Sorry honey," I tussled her hair to lessen the blow, "I have some things scheduled that I can't miss." Yesterday, that would have been true, but today it was a lie. My schedule revolved around work and that house, and now the house was gone.
For a moment, I thought Michael looked sad, but then became Mr. Take Charge, "Ok, well, how about we give Devon a chance to get dressed and then drop her off at her car on our way?"
"Ok, Daddy!" Elizabeth leaped off the bed and raced out the room without a backward glance.
If only grown-up life was actually that easy.
Chapter 6
It had been over a week since I spent the night at Michael's house, and since then, my life had gone downhill fast. My exploits had become office gossip, I was taken off a plumb assignment and given some horrible grunt work, Mimi was spinning the ring on her finger like a fidget spinner on speed, and my every waking day - and sleepless nights - were filled with sexual fantasies of Michael Saunders. Oh, and I was running out of time to find a new place to live.
Fuck my life.
This morning alone I had been to three places hoping to find a reasonably priced apartment. Two were already rented out, and the third was misprinted at one-third the real asking price. At this rate, I was going to run out of gas in between prospects and end up living out of my car.
Driving towards the inevitable fourth disappointment, I re
alized I was only a few blocks from my dream house. I know I shouldn't have, but I'm just the kind of person that likes to throw salt in my own wounds.
And fuck the shit I found when I got there.
There was a truck parked out in front that looked familiar. I couldn't quite place it, but honestly, I should have known. I pulled over with a perfect view of the front of the house and killed the engine. The first thing I noticed was that the For Sale sign was hidden by a big old SOLD sticker. Right there… taunting me.
The next thing I saw was someone walking around inside the house and I wondered if it was the new owners. Every once in a while they would walk past a window, and I each time I got a better view. It was a guy, maybe, probably a guy, tall, or medium height - the shadows were playing with his exact height. Maybe there were a couple of them, or maybe just one guy running around very fast checking out the entire house. Maybe the new owner was chasing some sort of animal that had taken up residence. I shuddered at the thought of something invading my perfect house. Maybe it was for the best I didn't get it after all.
Then I saw him.
Coming around the side of the house and up to the front door, was Michael Saunders. That's when I recognized the truck, and that's when I knew who screwed me over for my perfect house.
Like I said, fuck that shit.
The overwhelming need to take the bull by the horns consumed me and I jumped out of the car before my saner side had a chance to weigh in. I stomped right up to the front door and walked straight into my dream house.
Michael was standing in the middle of the parlor with his back to me and I stopped in my tracks. His faded t-shirt clung like a second skin to the taut muscles of his back and his paint-stained jeans highlighted his incredible ass. Damn it - the man looked good coming and going.
“Yeah, it’s alright,” I realized he was on the phone, and I almost turned around to leave. “It’s got a huge backyard though.” Just a second more and I would have been out the door, and then he said it. “I don’t know what she sees in it, but it’s mine now.”
That stopped me cold, and by the time he clicked off the phone, my blood was boiling. When he turned around, I was waiting for him. "You stole my house," I hissed at him.
Michael stared at me with undisguised amusement. "Hey Devon," he said slowly, "funny seeing you here."
"Oh don't give me that sweet talk buster. You know what you did." I just wanted to slap that smile off his face - I mean I wouldn't - but I wanted to.
"No," he drawled and took a few steps towards me, "I don't think I do."
I gasped in frustration and started to raise my voice, "I was planning on flipping this house but I somehow lost the construction loan and then the house." I actually put up my hands in air quotes to make my point and saw Michael bite back a chuckle. I really could have smacked him for that. My palms were itching to wipe that smirk off his face.
"I don't know what to tell you," he dropped his head in a classic awe-shucks move, and dug the heel of his boot into the well-worn floor;, "All's fair in love and flipping?"
"Damn it!" I yelled and I think even stomped my foot a little bit, "Why do you want it - you don't even flip houses."
"I'm branching out," Michael tossed out casually - and that's when I snapped.
I raised my hand, planning to connect with his well-chiseled face, but he was too fast. He captured my wrist in a vice-like grip and pulled it to his chest. I tried to step back but faltered and almost toppled over. In a flash, his other hand was on my back and he pulled me flush to his rock hard body.
This was not where I thought this day would end up. His body felt so good - so right. My anger was replaced by something else, and I rocked forward slightly and breathed in his scent. I hated myself for enjoying that moment. How could this man encompass both my dream and my demise?
I felt his ragged breathing rumble through me, and I lifted my eyes to his. I almost gasped at what I saw there. His eyes were on fire and I couldn't tell if he wanted to kiss me or take me over his knee and spank me - and heaven help me - I think I wanted him to do both.
"Damn it, Devon," he hissed and suddenly let go of me. He spun on his heel to look out the window and I was left to stare at his back again.
What was wrong with me? I exhaled shakily and walked over to the stairway to get control of my thoughts. I ran my hand down the finely carved banister and remembered the plans I had for it. It wasn't my place to ask, but I had already invested so much time in this house that I couldn't just let go. "What are you planning on doing to it?"
"Probably gut it and put in some wide open floor plan," he said off handily and continued to stare out the window.
"No," I whispered, and sat down on a well-plodded step, "please don't."
He shook his head and looked around the room before peering out the window again, "it's what folks are looking for these days."
In that brief moment, I noticed that all evidence of his fire was gone and I tried to follow suit. "People don't choose to live in a storage container, they buy what we build for them," I tried to be casual as if we were in work, but my voice was still shaky with emotion.
"So," he asked after the silence had become unbearable, "what were you going to do with it?"
"Oh, I had plans," I mused and looked towards the window, "I was all set to move in."
"Move in?" Michael spun around and stared at me, "why would you move into a house you were going to flip?"
"It was all part of my grand plan," I groaned and slumped my head into my hands, "I was so sure of it that I gave up my lease, and now I don't have any place to live."
"You should live with us!"
At the sound of her high-pitched squeak, I looked up and saw Elizabeth standing in the doorway looking at the two of us as if she had the obvious answer to everything.
Chapter 7
"You did what?"
So, Mimi wasn't as psyched about my new living arrangement as I thought she would be.
"And he has a kid?"
She had problems with that too.
"Are you crazy?"
That was maybe a bridge too far. "Mimi, keep your voice down," I shushed and went over to close the office door. It wasn't as if I needed everyone in the office to know my personal business.
Mimi plopped down in her chair and stared at me as I walked back to my own desk. Her creepy gaze followed my every move and I couldn't help but sigh as I sat down opposite her.
"Listen," I stared at her a bit more vehemently than I planned, "I have no idea why you're so upset-"
"I'm not upset," she snapped, "I just think you're making a big mistake by moving in with a single dad and his daughter."
"I'm not moving in with them," I managed to not roll my eyes at her assessment, but it was hard.
"So, you're not moving into his house."
"No," I objected, "I'm moving into his office."
"In his house."
"It has its own entrance and a full bathroom," I still felt like I had the high ground in this argument, but Mimi wasn't buying it.
"And he has a daughter," she sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest.
"Yeah, super cute kid - so what?" I threw up my hands and waited for her to respond.
"Devon," she paused to collect her thoughts, "You of all people know what it's like to have people come and go in a child's life."
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of a small child," I argued, "I have babysat before."
"So, wait-" she interrupted, "you're going to be responsible for her too?"
"Not all the time, just here and there - and I think you're missing the bigger point," I dismissed her comment with a wave of my hand, "I'm going to be working on my house. My dream is going to become a reality."
"And what happens when the house is done?" She was visibly frustrated with me, and I really didn't understand why, "you're not thinking this through - you're thinking with your…" she stopped and circled her finger at me, "lady parts."
/> I burst out laughing at the absurdity of the conversation, "my lady parts? Did you honestly just say that?" Of course, I was thinking with my lady parts. One look at Michael and they didn't just guide me, they screamed at me. But that's not why I took him up on his offer - or rather, on Elizabeth's offer.
The idea was absurd of course, but it wasn't long before Michael and I saw the benefit. We would work on the house together - my design, his labor - and then use it as a showcase like I originally planned.
The flip side of the plan involved me moving into his office - temporarily - and occasionally helping out with his daughter to give his ex-mother-in-law a break. He assured me it wouldn't be anything more than picking her up from school occasionally and being at home with her on the nights when he was working late. I was more than capable of doing that.
Apparently, Mimi didn't agree.
"He's old," she tossed out.
"Not like ancient old - just older," I countered.
"You don't even know him," she hissed.
"I've known him - we've known him for well over a year," I shot back noting that he wasn't a stranger to her either.
"It's not the same thing," she rolled her eyes at me and slumped in her chair, "I just can't believe you didn't talk to me about it first."
I finally felt like we were getting somewhere. We had practically been joined at the hip since Freshman year in college and now it seemed we barely spoke. But that wasn't all on me. Something was going on with her and she wasn't sharing any of it. I was going to try again to broach the subject when the office door opened up and Michael popped his head in.
My heart pounded wildly at his sudden appearance, and I wondered if I would ever get used to seeing him.
"Is it safe to come in?" He joked and gave his patented smile but Mimi was having none of it. I saw her roll her eyes before she pulled out a folder to bury her head in.
He ignored Mimi's slight, and turned to me, "Hey Dev," he started and Mimi actually scoffed before taking out another folder to bury her head in, "Would you mind picking up Bethy from Nana Jill's house?"