Damaged Goods: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance

by Rye Hart

  I’d never been prouder of Sean as I sat there and listened to his speech. He said so many wise, intelligent things about the art of writing children’s books. My mind was racing with his every word, but what was most impressive was how many applauded him for choosing such a difficult subject.

  “You know,” he said after someone brought it up. “Just over two years ago, my kids lost their mother. She died from cancer, and it shook all of us deeply. But they were both so young that there wasn’t much I could say to comfort them. They barely understood what happened, and because of that, I felt lost and hopeless. My own emotions were nothing compared to theirs, and I found myself wishing for a way to break through to them. About a year later, I thought of an idea for a book. It was hard at first. Writing didn’t come easily to me, and I had to push myself a lot. I had the support of so many amazing people though, and eventually, it worked. I wrote the book, and well, here we are now.”

  The room erupted in applause, and I joined in, slamming my hands together frantically. Just listening to Sean talk was enough to make my heart race. As I watched him finish out the class, I became more desperate to be near him. I hadn’t felt his lips against mine in far too long, and when we were finally able to walk over to him, I threw myself at him with desperation.

  He laughed and caught me, kissing me quickly before turning to greet the kids. Tommy and Sarah both erupted in stories they just had to tell him. It took hours for them to quiet down enough for me to get a word in, but I didn’t mind. I was just happy to be there with Sean, in Chicago, while he lived out his dream.

  ***

  That night, we were all exhausted but starving. Sean had made us a reservation at a fancy restaurant across town, but none of us were up for it. Instead, we went downstairs to the hotel restaurant and ordered dinner. Tommy and Sarah were both surprisingly wide awake throughout the entire meal. I expected them to be falling asleep in their soup bowls, but they weren’t. They kept glancing at Sean nervously.

  As we ordered our dessert and talked about the rest of Sean’s tour, I found myself waking up a bit too. There was so much excitement in the air around us that my exhaustion faded from my body. I laughed and talked with Sean and the kids for what felt like hours, until finally it was almost time to head upstairs.

  “It’s getting late,” I said sadly. “We should probably get them to bed.”

  “Not just yet,” Sean said with a smile. “There are a few things I want to say to you first.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “Is everything okay?”

  “That’s just it,” Sean said. “Everything is okay. Actually, it’s much more than okay, and that’s all because of you.”

  “What?” I asked nervously. When I glanced at Tommy and Sarah, I saw that they were both smiling widely at me.

  “You see,” Sean said. “Ever since we met you, things started to change. All three of us were so sad for so long that we didn’t think we would ever be happy again. I know I didn’t feel like I’d ever find love again. But then you came into our lives and changed everything. You made me feel like I could really be myself again, like I could finally be happy. This past year has been the best year of my life for so many reasons. I got closer to my kids, I finished my book, and I found you. You, Emily Ward, are the reason for my happiness. None of this would be possible without you.”

  I felt my heart racing inside my chest. My stomach was full of butterflies, and I knew what was coming next. Sean and I had talked about marriage before but never seriously. It was always just a nice idea. Something to dream about for the future. When we sat down to dinner together, I never imagined he would propose, but that’s exactly what he was doing.

  “Emily,” he continued. “You know how much I love you. I could spend all night telling you just what you mean to me, but you already know. I trust you with my children, with the two most important things in my world. That, more than anything, is proof enough of my love for you. I never, ever want to live a day on this earth without you by my side.”

  I felt tears falling down my cheeks uncontrollably.

  “Before I ask you my question I want to tell you something. I know how important it is to you to open your daycare center, and I genuinely believe in your vision. I know you can make a difference in the lives of so many children. I want to personally invest into your center and we can start the ground work on it right away or wait a little while whenever you are ready.”

  “Sean, I don’t know what you say. I love you so much!”

  He paused and turned to Tommy. Tommy dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. He handed it to his dad and then turned to face me. His little eight-year-old face smiled up at me, full of innocence and love.

  “I was really sad after my mom died,” Tommy said softly. “Really sad. We didn’t talk about it much, but I know Dad and Sarah were sad too. Now, I don’t feel sad anymore. I still miss my mom, and I always will, but I think you’re kind of like a mom too. You take care of us. You love us.”

  “Yeah,” Sarah said, jumping up and walking over to me. “I love you a lot. I don’t really remember my mommy very much anymore. I still think about her a lot, and I think she’d really like you. She would want you to take care of us and Daddy. She still loves us, just like you do.”

  “Emily,” Sean said, pulling my attention back to him. He was kneeling in front of me, his hands outstretched, holding open the box.

  Inside was a sparkling diamond ring that took my breath away. I felt tears slide down my cheeks as I stared at it, my mouth hanging open. When I finally looked back at Sean’s face, he was crying too. He cleared his throat and held the box out to me.

  “Emily Ward,” he said softly. “I am so in love with you. You are the piece that was missing from our family, and now, we’re all whole again. So, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife and spending the rest of your life as part of this little family?”

  I couldn’t speak. My throat felt tight, and tears were still streaming freely down my cheeks. I cried with earnest, unable to stop. Finally, I nodded my head and fell into Sean’s arms. He caught me and kissed me quickly, wrapping his arms around my body and holding me tightly against him.

  I sobbed into his chest while the kids surrounded us with hugs. Sarah wedged herself between us for a group hug, and then Tommy did the same. We held the kids and all laughed together, happier than we could ever remember being.

  That night, Sean and I tucked the kids in bed in their room and then closed the door. We had adjoining rooms and were eager to be alone. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. Everything had already been said, and when we fell into each other’s arms, it felt like coming home.

  We made love that night, slow and sweet. Our eyes never once fell from each other’s faces, and our hands never stilled as they moved across each other’s bodies. Sean whispered “I love you” in my ear, over and over again, creating the perfect soundtrack to the perfect night.

  The End

  Bodyguard

  CHAPTER ONE -KAILEY

  Finally, after a ten-hour shift in the ER, I could relax on my birthday. It was sweet that the other nurses threw me a party between sutures and car-accident victims, but the real party started in about an hour. My best friend, Brianna, knew exactly how stressful my life could be, so she decided to throw me a party at Pistols, the hottest nightclub in Detroit. It was the spot where everyone went. It was rare that I could go because I always got stuck with the overnight shift on the weekends. Either way, I was looking forward to celebrating my birthday in style. Pistols was going to be insane, and I planned to look hot.

  I jumped in the shower and did my normal exfoliate, cleanse, condition, and moisturize routine before I got out and applied my lotion and perfume. I towel-dried my hair and walked into my room to pick out my bra and panties for the night. It was my birthday, and I fully expected to get laid. Though most men didn’t really give a shit about the underwear I wore, it made me feel sexy and confident to put on something
pretty. I grabbed my go-to hot-pink lace thong and matching push-up bra, threw them on, and stared at myself in the mirror. All my hard work at the gym was finally paying off; my ass looked amazing.

  My phone buzzed on the counter, and I smiled when I saw a group text from the girls. Our birthdays were like a freaking holiday. We counted down the days, hours, and minutes until blastoff. I pressed the button and read the message to myself: 30 minutes until kickoff, bitches!!

  I laughed as I tossed my phone on the bed and pulled my birthday dress off the hanger on my closet door. It was dark turquoise, which complimented my bluish-green eyes. I slipped the dress over my head and pulled it down over my tits before posing in the mirror. It was spandex, with a plunging neckline, and hugged every single curve, exaggerating my cleavage. The hem came down to right below my ass. I admired myself in the mirror, grinning at how sexy I looked. I went back to the bathroom to work on my makeup, deciding that this night called for a little glow. I put on the good stuff I saved for events, keeping it simple and not too thick before dabbing cherry-flavored lip gloss on my plump lips. My hair fell in perfect beach curls, so I added some gel to make it stay through the night. Perfect.

  Just as I had slipped on my wedges and grabbed my clutch, I heard my Uber honk outside. I hurried from my house, locking the door behind me and shuffling down the walkway. As I stepped up to the car, I saw my driver check out my legs. I shrugged, taking it as a compliment. He would think about me later tonight, when he was alone in his room, desperate for a release.

  “Where are we headed?” he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “Pistols, please,” I said in a singsong voice. I pulled out my compact and checked my makeup one last time.

  “Oh, fancy nightclub,” he said, trying to make small talk. “Meeting some friends?”

  “Yep, it’s my birthday,” I replied with a smile.

  “Happy Birthday!” he said excitedly.

  I pulled out my phone and flipped through my emails, hoping to not find one informing me I was on call tomorrow. I jumped through hoops to get a Friday night and Saturday off, and I did not want that ruined. Luckily there was no such email. I happily threw my phone back in my clutch and focused on the night ahead.

  I lived outside the city, so it took about twenty minutes to get to the club from my house. When we pulled up, I saw the girls standing outside on the sidewalk with balloons and birthday sashes.

  “Happy Birthday!” they said collectively as I curtsied to them on the curb.

  “Here,” Brianna said, walking forward in her stilettos and putting a hot-pink “Birthday Girl” sash over my head. “The princess must wear her sash at all times. I didn’t bring the tiara because of last year’s debacle with Ann Marie’s hair. It seriously took three hours to get that thing untangled.”

  “Well, maybe the birthday girl shouldn’t have been giving head in the bathroom of the club,” I whispered so only Brianna could hear.

  “That is very true,” she laughed. “Okay, you’re all set. Let’s go get our table and have some drinks!”

  We flashed our ID’s to the bouncer and strutted into the dark nightclub. The music was loud and it vibrated through my chest. I bit my lip and winked at a group of guys who were standing by the bar, staring at our group as we walked by like supermodels. I looked up as our promoter friend, Timmy, came toward us, waving and holding a clipboard. He came right toward me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and pressed his lips to my cheek.

  “Girl!” he squealed. “You look fabulous, just fabulous.”

  “Thank you,” I said, twirling in a circle for him.

  “Okay, ladies, right this way,” Timmy said, gathering the group and leading us to our table.

  There were three bottles of vodka and carafes of orange juice already set up. Screwdrivers were my absolute favorite. We went to town immediately, pouring drinks, talking loudly over the music, and scoping the dance floor for any hot men to claim. Brianna stepped in front of me and smiled, waving her finger at me in a come-hither style.

  I grabbed my phone and tossed my clutch to one of the other girls, following Brianna onto the dance floor. As the vodka began to take hold and the music surged through my body, I leaned back and danced to the beat. My hips swayed back and forth, and I ran my hands over my body, biting my lip at a guy across the room.

  As the club started to fill up, the temperature rose, and I couldn’t help but feel sweat dripping down my neck and between my tits. Brianna winked at me as some hot Latino man gyrated his hips behind her, grabbing her stomach and pressing her ass against his crotch. I laughed and gave her the thumbs-up sign, feeling a bit dizzy from the alcohol and the balmy temperature. When the song ended, I walked off to the side and fanned myself with a flyer, trying to cool down. I glanced over my shoulder at the side door and walked over to the bouncer, whispering in his ear that I needed some air. He nodded his head and told me to knock when I was ready to come back in. He opened the door and then quickly shut it behind me.

  I stumbled slightly into the alley and let out a deep breath as the air dried the sweat on my body. I could hear the usual sounds of Detroit and shook my head, feeling thankful that I decided to buy a little house in the suburbs. As I went to knock on the door, I heard shouting at the other end of the alley. I looked down toward three people standing there. They were screaming incoherently, and I narrowed my eyes, trying to see more. Something about the situation felt wrong. I grabbed my cell phone, scooting back and hiding behind the dumpster. As the argument escalated, I watched as one of the men pulled something from his jacket pocket. It was dark, so I couldn’t see it right away. By the time I realized what it was, he raised it in the air and pulled the trigger, shooting the woman in the head.

  As if I were watching in slow motion, blood splattered all over the wall, and the woman’s body fell backward in a heap. I nearly screamed, bringing my hand up and covering my mouth as I dialed 911 on my phone. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely press the right numbers.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Yes,” I whispered not wanting the shooter to know I was here. “I am in the alley next to Pistols, a man just…”

  At that moment, I could hear sirens. Suddenly a police officer yelled out, chasing after the two men. They ran straight down the alley in my direction, and I froze, dropping my phone on the ground as they raced toward me. I put my hands in the air and backed up against the wall as they ran up to me, staring me straight in the face before the officer lunged forward and tackled one of them. The other guy ran down the corridor and into the street. I stepped back and watched the policeman wrestle the killer to the ground and pull his arms behind his back, handcuffing him and standing up to check on the victim. It was no use; she was already dead.

  “Are you okay?” the police officer asked, looking at me with concern. All I could do was shake my head yes as the killer growled at my feet.

  Whatever answer I gave, I wasn’t okay. I was far from okay.

  CHAPTER TWO - LOGAN

  It had been ten years since my wife was shot and killed. Yet I still found myself attending parole hearings for her murderer. We had just gotten married and were out for a stroll, enjoying the warm summer breeze. Detroit was different back then—booming and lively. Walking through the streets wasn’t quite as dangerous as it is now. The guy was a punk kid who had been in and out of jail his whole life. He cornered us, and when I didn’t have enough cash in my wallet, he took my wife’s life instead. Just watching his smug face from across the courtroom brought back all the emotions I felt that night. That was the night I decided to become a cop.

  After working the beat for six years, I was promoted and now ran security details for people placed in the witness protection program.

  I nodded at the judge as he scanned the courtroom, listening to the perp’s pathetic plea to be let out. Ten years wasn’t nearly enough time for taking someone’s life, and I was here to make sure he didn’t get out. I was slated to testif
y against him, but after his pathetic acting and the prison’s warning statement about his violent habits, the judge decided not to waste any more time and denied his request. As they led him out of the courtroom in handcuffs, he looked over at me and smiled. I clenched my teeth and straightened my uniform, refusing to give him any more of my time.

  “Hey,” a voice came from behind me. I turned around to see David Woback, the district attorney, moving toward me. We had gone through the academy together, but he had gone on to become a lawyer because he wanted to put the perps away, not chase them through the street.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning in and giving him a quick hug.

  “I knew he wasn’t going to get parole,” David said, looking over as they took the prisoner to the back for transport. “He needs to stay in there for life.”

  “You're telling me,” I replied. “So what can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping you’d follow me over to my office. I have a case for you,” David replied as he stepped to the side and motioned toward the door.

  I nodded, and we made our way through the crowded courthouse. It was a Wednesday and probably the busiest day of the week for trials. I walked past countless of worried and grieving faces, wondering what they had been through that brought them to criminal court. Since I was on protection duty, most of the time I didn’t get called in to work cases. Part of me missed the excitement of the beat, the adrenaline and thrill of chasing down a perp and taking them in. Also, I could never turn David down.

  When we got to the office, I took a seat and watched as David pulled out a file and threw it down in front of me. I opened it up and looked at the pictures of the victim. It looked like a gunshot wound to the head at close range. I glanced over the pictures briefly, then pushed them away.