She’s not her daddy’s little girl anymore.
“I’m here to help with that,” she says. Her taking some responsibilities off my plate was definitely the plan, but I sure don’t see how I’m going to have any peaceful nights from here on out. I can already imagine lying in bed at night thinking of her. Wishing she was lying next to me, unclothed as I run my hands along every inch of her bare skin as I get to know every single twist and turn of her body, memorizing her shape so I can dream about her.
“Right,” I say, but it’s clear I’m not right and she knows I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. It doesn’t take a cop with a complete understanding of body language to know this officer’s face, mannerisms, and movements are betraying him.
I look down at her hand. She hasn’t moved it. I can see she’s comfortable with it there and oh how I want to just slide my fingers in-between hers and take her hand in mine, but I can’t. It’s not right. Not right now at least.
I pull my hand back slowly and immediately miss the feeling of her skin against mine. I know what loss is like, but as unbelievable as it sounds the loss of her touch hurts stings almost as much as other losses I’ve experienced in my life. How could she have that much control over me? How could she be that…powerful, all the while being so feminine?
Maybe women have changed and I’ve lost touch. She’s definitely changed. That’s for sure.
But there’s something more about her. The way she balances the traditional ways of feminism and beauty with a more modern approach. She’s not a damsel in distress. She’s strong and confident and feels more like my equal. It’s embarrassing to admit but as a thirty-nine-year-old I’m not used to that. I’m used to women my age embracing the difference between the sexes more and the younger woman I meet in my day-to-day policing responsibilities being brasher and more like men for lack of a better word. It’s like she’s taken that brashness, and put a feminine touch on it…making it anything but brash. And she’s taken the traditional forms of beauty and differences in the woman of my generation display and adapted them for the current day.
In a word she’s perfect.
She’s not someone that needs a man. She’s someone that wants a specific man. A woman who can make her own choices.
And yes, I can see all this just by reading her in a matter of seconds. If I couldn’t I wouldn’t be much of a cop and I take pride in the fact that I’m one of the best.
But the best of me is what she’s getting right now. I’m still a little shaken from seeing her like this.
“Let me grab a mop and some paper towels,” I say. “If you can just wait…I mean, sorry…please come in.”
All this and she hasn’t even officially come inside! What’s gotten into me?
Her, that’s what. And as we stand together and I get a second look at her, an even better look, I can’t help but know she can tell my body’s relaying just how much I want to get into hers.
CHAPTER 4
Annabelle
I watch as Braden walks away to get the cleanup gear. His posture is strong and confident as he glides across the living room floor.
It may be four years since I’ve last seen him but he hasn’t aged a single bit. He’s still as powerful with shoulders as wide as ever. I remember my dad saying he bench-pressed six big “plates” which when combined with the bar equals 315 pounds. And he didn’t just bench press it once, apparently he could do it over ten times. With that kind of strength I can only imagine what he could do with someone like me.
He’s back in a flash.
“I’m becoming a cleanup expert these days,” he says.
“Part of being a dad?”
“Yeah, but no fault of Vivian’s. I’m just working more and doing more things so I just guess I’m just more careless or a bit out of it at times. That and I’m getting older I suppose.”
“You sure don’t look older,” I say. “I mean, not in the aging sort of way.”
“Thanks. I think,” he says.
“I just mean you look great. I mean, you look young. Most guys aren’t in such good shape these days, especially not in the kind of shape you’re in.”
“Thanks. Surprisingly it’s mostly about diet, and I’m hoping you can help keep an eye on Vivian’s when I’m not around.”
“Whatever you need me to do,” I say. I have to remember he’s the parent and I’m here to carry out his wishes. It’s not my job per say to raise Vivian the way I want. I need to do it in the way he wants, which I’m pretty sure I’m going to go along with anyways. I always remember him as a firm but fair person. I think that’s the best way so I’m happy if that’s what he’s hoping I can be with his daughter. I just wonder if I’ll be able to hold my ground enough. I know I want to be firm, but when I see her I hope she won’t convert me into a pushover. I’m a sucker for kids. Hopefully she won’t take advantage.
“Well, first of all you’ve got to meet her. Everything starts there. She’s been though a lot lately and I just want someone in here who she feels comfortable with…someone she connects with.”
“No pressure,” I joke.
“There’s not. It’s best just to be yourself and I know she’s going to like you. If for some unexpected reason there’s any weird vibes coming from either side we’ll call off everything immediately for everyone’s benefit. Like I told your dad, today’s just a quick test run. A meet and greet to see. Rome wasn’t built in a day and I can’t expect her to open right up to someone she just met, but I do think I’ll be able to see if she’s at least open to the people I bring into our house.”
“Has she responded well or poorly to other people?”
“You’re the first person I’ve introduced her to,” he says.
Wow. I was kind of joking when I said “no pressure” but now it’s abundantly clear the pressure is so great the top could pop off this “meet and greet” at any second. One wrong move. One misstep or misstatement and I might touch on something that’s sensitive to her. The last thing I want to do is hurt this little girl. Lord knows she’s already been through enough.
“I’m truly honored you thought of me to be the first,” I say. “I just hope I live up to your expectations and don’t mess it up. And her expectations too.”
“I’m sure you will.” Braden pauses and looks deep into my eyes. I can see he’s concerned. I admire how seriously he’s taking everything. I think most guys his age wouldn’t know what to do if they were just thrown into the fire of parenthood without any help or experience. First I imagine most guys wouldn’t even attempt it so kudos to him there. And second of all I like how he’s so involved and so concerned. For a big, strong guy he sure is a teddy bear when it comes to Vivian. I don’t know much about how the two of them came to be father and daughter, but no matter how it was I can see he’s taking the relationship very, very seriously. His eyes telegraph it from across the room. “Go time?” he says.
“Go time,” I say.
He motions for me to come and I take a few steps forward until I’m beside him at which point he turns and walks in step with me. I feel his hand on the small of my back and I’m not sure if it’s to steady his own nerves, mine, or to present a unified look to Vivian. The way he’s walking in step with me, with his hand on me, it’s almost like he’s showing Vivian that he’s vouching for me in a subconscious way.
We walk through the kitchen and he slides the door open.
There she is. She’s so adorable, sitting there under a tree with her coloring book. She’s got a small Crayola box open and she’s coloring between the lines. She’s more than ten feet away but it actually appears to be an adult coloring book. Does her dad color, or maybe he bought a coloring book thinking they’re all the same? Then again maybe that’s the one she wanted.
I have so many questions and right now I have zero answers. Our relationship, if we’re going to have one at all, is a clean slate. I definitely want to get off on the right foot.
“Vivian. Honey. This is the young woman I was t
elling you about. Annabelle.”
Her hand stops moving, the pink crayon frozen in place. Slowly her little blue eyes raise up from what she’s working on and meet mine.
The corners of her mouth pull back slightly in a bit of a cautious smile. I can’t tell if it’s forced or not…at least not yet.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” I say. I don’t move closer though. I’m not sure if I should approach her. She hasn’t given me any signals that she’s open to strangers at the moment…and it’s clear to me that’s exactly what I am. “I’m Annabelle,” I offer, trying to get a conversation started.
“I’m Vivian. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
Silence. She’s still looking at me, her gaze fixed on mine. Slowly her eyes return toward her lap where the coloring book is placed.
“Whatcha workin’ on?”
“I’m coloring a midnight ball,” she says.
“Can I take a look?”
Her eyes rise up again as she surveys me, making sure it’s ok to let me into her little world. A moment passes and I can feel the air between us thicken. Just a few minutes earlier I was admiring her father and now here I am desperately seeking her approval…the approval of a seven-year-old. The roller coaster of emotions has my head spinning.
“Okay,” she says. Her lips pull back again and she doesn’t show teeth. It’s a forced smile no doubt, but it’s an attempt. That’s a start. That’s all I can ask for right now.
I cautiously step forward and I feel my lower back separate from Braden’s touch. I’m on my own now.
CHAPTER 5
Braden
I watch intently as Annabelle approaches Vivian. I can’t say they’re off to the best of starts, but at least it’s not a complete shut down.
It’s not what I hoped for but then again what exactly can I hope for at this point?
This is the first person I’ve brought into our home…a home I’m trying to convince Vivian is ours and not just mine. She’s still very cautious with everything as if she doesn’t want to upset my routines and my things. I actually have to encourage her to leave her things lying around…to not pick up after herself. Who has to do that with a seven-year-old?
I get the feeling that maybe she sees this as temporary. Maybe this is just a stop in her journey. I try and convince her it’s not, but it’s easy to see she’s not going to be convinced. She only believes what she sees and what she feels, and she’s still reeling from her loss and isn’t sure who or what to trust.
Even from this distance I can see she’s coloring a dress…a midnight ball dress apparently. I may be closing in on forty, but my eyesight is still going strong.
And what my eyes will see in the next few moments will determine everything.
Annabelle reaches Vivian, but stops just short in order to leave a safe distance between them. She’s smart and considerate, but that doesn’t guarantee anything at this point.
Annabelle bends down and makes herself smaller than Vivian…not an easy task. I’m thoroughly impressed at Annabelle’s subtle moves. I’m not sure if it’s just a woman’s intuition or if she’s just a whole lot smarter than most. I’m guessing it’s a little of both leaning towards her personal ability to observe and adapt to the situation. She’d make a great cop, ironically.
Annabelle watches her color for a minute before I hear her speak. “Her dress is really beautiful. I like the shade of pink you chose.”
“Thanks,” Vivian says. I like that she chose the informal “thanks” and not the formal “thank you.” I’m a guy who’s in way over his head, but something tells me there’s a big difference here. Maybe Vivian can warm up to her.
I quietly backpedal and step inside the house. I don’t slide the door shut, but I do step out of sight. It’s still early, but I want to see how she does when I’m not there…out of her field of sight.
I side step towards the kitchen window and watch intently as first Annabelle’s lips move and then Vivian’s. I monitor the time and notice that Annabelle is speaking longer, but as more time passes Vivian’s replies increase in length and openness. She’s slowly seeming more relaxed and comfortable around her. It’s only been a few minutes, but the difference is noticeable.
I breath in deeply feeling my chest rise before exhaling hard.
That was close. Upon first glance I was starting to think I may have made a mistake, but now it looks like things are starting to progress nicely. It’s still too early to tell, but at least we’re moving in the right direction.
I continue watching through the window, right here in case anything doesn’t sit will with Vivian. There’s no way I’m going to leave her alone with anyone, even Annabelle who I’ve known her entire life. I trust Annabelle completely but most importantly I need Vivian to trust me…to know I’ll always be here for her and that she’s not about to go anywhere. She’s with me now…forever.
I quickly make a pitcher of lemonade while keeping my eye on the two girls outside.
I step out through the opening in the sliding door with three glasses and the refreshing drink.
“Lemonade anyone?”
I see Vivian’s eyes light up as she nods her head and smiles. It’s a real smile and it elicits the same from me.
Annabelle hasn’t just made a tremendous impression on me here today. She’s also quickly impressed herself on Vivian and that impresses me all the more.
CHAPTER 6
Annabelle
“Earth to Annabelle. Are you there? Come in? Over?”
I stab at my salad and then see a hand come in front of my face. It takes me a minute to process. It’s Katy and she’s waving it frantically. Then she leans down and tries to put her face in my line of sight.
“Hello? Are you with me?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say.
“What’s his name?” she says leaning back and crossing her arms. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Whose name? What are you talking about?”
“Uh huh. It’s going to be like that is it. Okay,” she says as she takes another bite of her honey ranch chicken sandwich before picking up one of her seasoned fries and pointing it at me as if I’m on trial.
“What?”
“You’ve been poking at that salad for the last twenty minutes. What have you eaten? Maybe three croutons? Meanwhile I’m over here about to finish off this chicken burger and fries and I already ate all the complimentary breads and butters and I’m on my second drink. And not only that do you remember what we were talking about?”
“Yeah, that cute guy you met at the mall.”
“Annabelle! That was like fifteen minutes ago. I’ve talked about three other guys since then.”
“But you seemed the most interested in him.”
“I did? Was that before or after the part where I told you I spilled a drink on him and he took off in the opposite direction…practically running.”
“What’s up with spilling drinks lately?”
“Huh?”
“Yesterday, my neigh—,” I catch myself.
“Wait? Your perfect policeman neighbor? The one you’ve wanted to cuff you and frisk you since you turned eighteen? The one every girl in town is intentionally pressing down on the gas pedal every time they see him out patrolling in hopes that he’ll pull them over? The hot cop that women are basically volunteering the $150 speeding ticket just to get an up close look at him in his uniform as he leans in and says, ‘license and registration’? That neighbor?”
“I don’t think he wears a uniform anymore?”
“And how do you know this information? Wait? Did you see him naked? Have you been peeking in his blinds?”
“No!”
“Don’t lie! Why didn’t you invite me?”
“I’m not a peeping tom! I mean a peeping Tammy, or whatever the term might be.”
“Well with as hot as he is it’s worth the risk. Imagine if he caught you, just outside his house in the bushes
doing the…well…to your own bush.”
“Katy! Wait, to my bush?”
“Well, you know. Hiding in his bushes doing your own thing to what’s underneath your bush.”
“Oh my god.”
“Do you shave down there? You know pubes are making a comeback.”
“Oh my god. Check please.”
“Come on.”
“And you wonder why I’m not eating.”
“Ok. I kid. But spill the beans. What’s going on with you and Officer Awesome?”
Nanny for the Cop Next Door: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 44) Page 2