by Claire Adams
“Christian?” I asked again.
“Please just listen, Stella. There was a time where we didn’t enjoy each other’s company. A time where we grated on each other’s nerves and wanted to be as far away from one another as possible. But now, all I want to do is get home to you. I want to do is spend my free time gazing into your beautiful green eyes. And I want to make you happy and see you smile.”
“Christian,” I said, giggling. “There are people around.”
“I don’t care,” he said, grinning. “All I care about is you. You and me against the rest of the world. Stella, these past two years have been a rollercoaster. You’ve helped me to grow to be a man my mother would’ve been proud of, and I’d like to think I’ve helped you grow into the woman your father knew you were destined to be. Every time I catch your eye, it turns my heart all over again. Every time your lips touch mine, it sends shockwaves of electricity coursing through my veins. I don’t want another moment to ever go by where you're not there, and I don’t want there to be a single morning where I wake up, and you’re not in my arms. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“Oh, Christian,” I whispered.
Then, he slid off the bench and got down on one knee. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, and the moment he popped it open, tears sprung to my eyes.
“Stella Harte, there isn’t a second of my life that isn’t imprinted somehow by you. There isn’t a decision I make where you aren’t taken into consideration, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t love you a little more for the things I learn about you. I want to spend my life studying you, loving you, and making memories with you. I want to grow a family with you, fill our home with children that come from you, and I want to hold your hand and grow old with you. I don’t ever want you to question my love for you, nor do I want another second to go by without asking you the question that’s been rattling around in my head for weeks. Stella Harte, will you marry me?”
I could feel everyone holding their breath as tears dripped down my cheeks. I raised my trembling hand to cup his face, gracing my thumb against the redness of his cheek before my lips found his. At that moment, no one else existed. My life was about to change.
One word tumbled from my lips that would forever alter the course of our lives in only the best ways possible.
“Yes,” I smiled. “I will marry you, Christian Gunn.”
He picked me up into his arms and swung me around while the crowd cheered us on. He set me down and slipped the beautiful ring on my finger, but the only thing I could think about was the future.
I was going to spend the rest of my life with the man I’d fallen desperately in love with.
“I love you so much, Christian,” I said.
“And I love you, Stella.”
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DR. DADDY’S VIRGIN
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Allie
I could tell from the look on my mother’s face that she was not impressed with my new place. Disgusted might be a better word, or maybe that was pity; with her, it was hard to tell sometimes. We were sitting at the kitchen table, and the blueberry muffins I had picked up earlier from Brown Bag Bakery were still slightly warm. The butter was organic and local, from grass-fed cows. All the sorts of things I would’ve thought she’d appreciate. The kitchen floor had black and white tiles and glass door cabinets with little panes that made me feel like the cups and plates were outside a window, looking in on me. I chose not to share this thought with her; she’d probably tell me it was clear that thinking something like that meant I was going insane because I’d been living out in the country for too long.
“It’s so...” My mother made a face. “It’s so quiet. What on earth are you going to do with yourself up here?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been managing all right so far.”
She broke a piece off from one of the muffins, the gold bangles on her wrist jangling. “You say that now, but you’ve only been up here a week. Just wait until the newness wears off—then you’ll be crying to move back to the city, where, you know, life is actually happening. Are there any restaurants? Delivery? What happens if you don’t want to cook dinner one night, but there’s no one that will deliver because you live out here in the sticks?”
I moved up to Chapin, Maine from Boston because I couldn’t deal with city life anymore. I had never lived in a rural area like this, where the trees outnumbered both the people and the buildings, but so far, I liked it. I liked the feel of all the space around me, of the clean fresh air, of the relative quiet at night.
I’d searched on Craigslist and found my own little house, too. It was a winterized cottage, a small two-bedroom with blueberry bushes and a split rail fence. There was an overgrown garden in the back that I’d been thinking about maybe doing something with. I just liked the fact that I had a yard, even if it meant a lawn that I would have to mow. I’d never mowed a lawn before, but I didn’t care; I loved that the place was mine, that it was a dwelling not attached to any others, that I wasn’t above or below anyone.
I took a sip of my coffee and chose not to tell her a large part of the reason I had fled Boston to begin with was because I couldn’t be in her vicinity anymore. Not that I didn’t want to be around my mother, but I simply couldn’t stand being around my stepfather, Bill. It had gotten worse over the years, though my mother was somehow blind to it all. How was that possible? The few times I had tried to talk to her about it, she had gotten irrationally angry and said that I was jealous and ungrateful. That Bill had provided for us over the years—more than just provided for us, allowed us to live a very well-off existence in a Beacon Hill brownstone—and that I couldn’t seem to appreciate the fact that there were probably a million other girls who would be willing to trade places with me in a heartbeat.
Bill, for his part, always gave me this wounded look whenever my mother was around, but when we were alone (which I tried to make sure never happened), that wounded look would change to something more predatory, though he hadn’t tried to make any moves on me since that night when I was 15.
“You just wait,” my mother said. “Once the novelty of this place wears off, you’ll be—” She stopped and straightened, looking out the window. “Now who is that?” she said.
My next door neighbor had just stepped outside. The houses in this part of town weren’t right on top of each other, but they were close enough that friendly neighborhood interaction was a requirement.
“I assume that’s one of my neighbors,” I said.
My mother craned her neck, squinting. “He’s very handsome. You haven’t met him yet?”
“No.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t come over to introduce himself.”
“I think he’s pretty busy. He’s a doctor.”
“A doctor?” She sounded surprised, like it was unheard of for a doctor to live anywhere but a bustling metropolis. “He looks young to be a doctor. How do you know he’s a doctor if you’ve never met him?”
“My other neighbor, Diane, told me. I have met her.”
“Well.” My mother picked up the paper napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. She stood up. “No time like the present.”
“Mom—” I started, but it was too late, she was already pushing out the side door, striding across the yard, her blue Jimmy
Choos stabbing the lawn as she went.
“Shit,” I muttered as I stood up to follow. It would be easy to hide in here, but I wanted to make sure she didn’t say something ridiculous.
By the time I caught up to her, my mother was already shaking his hand, laughing.
“Allie,” she said. “This is Cole.”
“Hey,” he said, extending a hand to me. Up close, he was extremely good-looking—almost uncomfortably so—but I just pasted a smile on my face and shook his hand. My stepfather was good-looking too, and the majority of my childhood I’d watched the way women had fallen over themselves around him. I imagined that people did the same for Cole, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to be one of them.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
My mother beamed. “Allie just moved in.”
“Yeah, we noticed that the For Rent sign had been taken down,” Cole said. “Sorry that we haven’t been over to introduce ourselves yet, but things have been kind of crazy this past week.” He smiled, exposing a row of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve been pretty busy, too.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mother’s smile faltering—he had said we—but before she could inquire about a wife or a girlfriend, a little boy was suddenly there, weaving around us like an overexcited puppy.
“Oh!” my mother said, stepping back. “What—I mean, who is this?”
“This is Declan.” Cole squatted down so he was at Declan’s level. “Declan, these are our new neighbors. This is Allie and...” He looked at my mom. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?”
“Jen.”
“And her mom, Jen.”
Declan, with big blue eyes and shaggy, light brown hair, grinned up at us. “Hi,” he said.
“I’m not a new neighbor,” my mother said. They both looked at her in confusion. “Just Allie is. I’m only visiting. I’ll be returning to the city later today.”
“I go to preschool,” Declan said.
“You do?” I asked. “How old are you?”
“Four.”
“What preschool do you go to?” I was going to be starting my new job on Monday at the Learning Center, which was a preschool the next town over.
“The Learning Center,” Declan said proudly.
“Well, isn’t that something!” my mother said. “That’s where Allie is going to be working. That’s the whole reason she moved to this town to begin with—because they offered her a job! Not that there aren’t plenty of teaching opportunities in Boston, either.”
“They’re not really interested in hearing about that, Mom,” I said. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you both, and it sounds like I’ll be seeing you soon, Declan.”
“Yeah, great meeting you,” Cole said. “Sorry to rush off like this, but I’ve got to get Declan to school, and I’ve got a full day of patients.”
“So, you are a doctor,” my mother said.
Cole smiled. “Have you been inquiring about me?”
I winced inwardly. This whole first meeting was really going great.
“Diane had mentioned it,” I said quickly.
“My dad’s the best doctor,” Declan said. “I want to be a firefighter when I grow up, though.”
“That’s a very good job to pick,” I said. “Firefighters are very brave.”
“I am brave! Look, I can pick up this spider.” And he leaned down and plucked a rather scary-looking spider from the edge of the driveway. I almost jumped out of my skin just seeing the spindly legs and the black, bulbous body, but I forced a grin. “You are very brave,” I said. Instead of squashing it, like many little boys his age would have, Declan carefully walked the spider over to the front lawn and put it down. “It’s not bad if spiders get into the house,” he said. “Because then they’ll spin webs and catch other bugs, like mosquitos.”
“All right, bud, let’s say bye and get in the car,” Cole said. “It was very nice to meet you two.”
“You too,” I said, and I waved at Declan as he went over and climbed into the back seat of the car.
“He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring,” my mother said once we were back in the kitchen.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Of course you would notice that. And just because someone isn’t wearing a wedding ring, it doesn’t mean that they’re not married.”
“I got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t, though.” She sighed. “Not that you want to get involved with a man who has a child. That’s a whole Pandora’s box that’s probably better left untouched.”
“Kind of ironic coming from someone who did exactly that,” I said, though of course she had a point. If she had never gotten involved with Bill, he never would have tried to come into my bedroom when I was a teenager.
“Allie, I don’t want you to think I’m not supportive of your decisions,” Mom said. “It’s just that I can’t help but worry about you alone up here. I mean, you’re living in a house all by yourself! What if you need help with something?”
“Like what? Opening a jar of pickles? I lived alone when I was in Boston, too, Mom, and I somehow managed just fine.” It was when I was living with her and Bill that things weren’t so great, but I didn’t bring that up.
“So what have you got planned, other than work?” my mother asked. “Not that there’s much to do around here.”
“Well, work is a pretty big one,” I said. “I definitely want to get settled into my job, and I’ll probably do a little exploring. I need to set up some appointments once my insurance goes through. I haven’t been to the dentist in like a year.”
“You’ve got good teeth. Do you floss?”
“Yes.”
“That’s more important than brushing, you know.”
“It is?”
“Absolutely. Especially as you get older. Just ask your dentist. He’ll tell you I’m right.”
“I need to make an appointment for a physical, too.”
“That’s a good idea. You definitely want to take care of your health. When was the last time you had an annual? That’s probably even more important than the dentist, you know.”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “They both seem pretty important.”
“Well. It’s more important once you’ve become sexually active...” My mother let the sentence die off, waiting to see if I would confirm or deny anything.
“Still not,” I said. “And still don’t feel like having this conversation with you, either.”
Ever since I’d turned 18 (I guess the age that my mother had decided a girl should have lost her virginity by), my mom had been pestering me about the fact that I still had not had sex. At first it had been something like a joke, something she gave me a good-natured hard time over, but now it seemed more as though she was actually concerned.
She squinted at me. “You’re getting a little old, aren’t you, Allie? There aren’t many 24-year-old virgins left in the world, you know.”
“I haven’t met the right guy, I guess.” I decided not to mention that the past couple days it had been burning when I peed. Dr. Google was telling me that it was probably a urinary tract infection, but if that was the case, I would likely need a prescription for an antibiotic.
My mother gave me a grim look. “Well, other than your neighbor over there, I wouldn’t say you’re going to have that many prospects around here.”
I was a little nervous about my first day at the Learning Center, though not as nervous as I’d been at some of my other jobs. I’d had a phone interview with Becca, the executive director, and then I’d driven up for two days to meet with the Kris, the lead teacher, and Amy, the other teacher, a short girl with thick brown hair and pretty blue eyes. They were regular, down-to-earth people who really enjoyed their work, and that made me feel at ease. The kids were all great, too, and I was looking forward to getting to know them.
The center had big windows, wide hallways, and white walls covered with student artwork. That was one of my
favorite parts of working with kids this age—their imaginations were so great.
I was across the room, reading a story to a small group of girls when I saw Cole dropping off Declan. He was talking with Kris, but he looked right at me and gave a little nod. I looked back down at the book without acknowledging him, though Declan came bounding over and wriggled his way onto my lap. When I looked back over to the entrance, Cole was gone.
The first day passed quickly, as first days often do. I’d been hired as a teacher, though for today, I played more the role of assistant and observed the routines, tried to learn all the kids’ names, helped with setting up activities, and then cleaned up after them. Summer would be starting soon, but most, if not all, of the kids would be returning for the summer program.
“So how do you think your first day went?” Amy asked that afternoon, once all the kids had been picked up. We were going around the classroom, making sure there were no blocks, LEGOs, or MagnaTiles that hadn’t been put away.
“It went pretty smoothly,” I said. “Everyone here is great.”
“You did awesome,” she said. “I’m so psyched that you’re working here. Don’t get me wrong—I think the world of Becca and Kris—but it’s nice to have someone closer to my age. How old are you?”
“I’m 24.”
She grinned. “Me too! You didn’t grow up around here, though, did you?”
“No, I grew up in Boston.”
She widened her eyes. “Oh, the city! I knew it. I could just tell that you weren’t from one of these small towns. And I totally mean that as a compliment.”
I could just see my mother smirking if she had been there to overhear that comment.
“Well, thank you,” I said. “Though I moved here because I really needed to get away from the city. And you know what? I like it a lot so far.”