Irresistible Daddies Series Box Set

by Katy Kaylee

  Layla clutched at my hand as if our positions were reversed and she was the one with the abusive ex-husband approaching. “I’m right here,” she whispered.

  I shook my head, squeezing her hand. “I appreciate it, sweetheart, but you should go. Go on, I can handle this.”

  The last thing I wanted was for Layla to be standing there awkwardly while I dealt with whatever unpleasantness was about to unfold. She deserved better than that. Chad was going to create a scene and I needed space to breathe through that, and I certainly wasn’t going to let my best friend possibly be caught in the crossfire.

  Layla bit her lip, glanced at Chad, then at me, and then reluctantly let go of my hand as I nodded at her. “Okay. If you’re sure. I’ll just…”

  “Everything will be fine. I’m sure. I’ll catch up with you in just a minute.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  Layla didn’t look all that convinced, but she walked away, leaving me alone.

  Chad finished walking up. His gaze flicked dismissively over to where Layla had been, then trailed over me. I almost wished that he was leering at me and trying to make a pass. That would’ve been easier to handle than his open disdain, like I was some sad bug that had crawled out from underneath the table.

  I squared my shoulders, staying strong. “Yes?” I asked.

  Chad finished his inspection of me, then met my gaze. “I’m surprised to see you out and about,” he told me. “At a fancy event like this no less. Didn’t I buy you that dress?”

  Technically he had bought me everything I owned, since I hadn’t been allowed to get a job while I was married to him and now I was living off of his alimony so that I could devote my time to my child. Maybe another person would’ve felt ashamed of that, but honestly, I felt like it was the least of what he owed me. He didn’t want me to get a job? Well then fine, I wouldn’t. I would simply live off the money he gave me while I built my new life for myself, away from him. It was what I was due for the way that he’d treated me. I was fulfilling his wish, in the worst possible way for him.

  Because fuck him.

  The dress that I was wearing right then was a powder blue number that I’d gotten because it was a bit daring, with a little bit of a leg slit and straps that were designed to expose my shoulders and throat. I’d bought it back when I’d still had the vain hope that I could entice Chad back into sleeping with me and loving me, as a husband should love a wife. That somehow if I made myself look good enough, the man that had wooed me and charmed me back when we were dating would emerge once more.

  It took me far too long to realize that charming man never really existed. He was just a façade for the real monster underneath.

  “Did you have a purpose in coming over here?” I asked him. “You should try the chocolate fountain, it’s delicious.”

  “You know, I thought you told me that you needed some time to yourself, during the divorce.” Chad raised an eyebrow. “And yet, here you are.”

  I was not in the mood for an argument. Especially not in front of others. “I see you’re still wishing I would somehow find a way to not exist,” I told him. “Don’t worry, I won’t interact with you or bother you. I’m not here to cause a scene.”

  Not that I had ever caused a scene, oh no. I had always been the one smoothing everything over after Chad had insulted someone yet again.

  I went to step around him and find Layla, but Chad grabbed my arm. His grip was like steel and I instinctively suppressed my wince. He had never hit me, he had never gone that far, but that tight, punishing grip of his was unfortunately far too familiar to me.

  “You’re being a wanton little bitch,” he growled. “Prancing around here in a dress that I bought you, living high off the hog with the alimony money that you force me to pay—”

  “You made my life a living hell,” I whispered. “Frankly, you owe me.”

  “I owe you?” Chad’s hand tightened on my arm.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few people watching us. A woman leaned into her date and began to whisper in his ear.

  My face started to heat up. This was exactly what I didn’t want - a scene where everyone could have more fodder for the rumor mill. I just wanted to move on from my sham marriage and live my life in peace, was that too much to ask of my asshole ex-husband? Of society?

  All my life I had been taught to not make a fuss, to be seen and not heard, to look pretty first and make polite conversation second. “Chew like you have a secret,” my mother once told me as I had been learning how to eat at a fine dining table in preparation for the deb balls.

  If that didn’t sum up my entire upbringing, nothing could.

  I quickly yanked my arm out of Chad’s grip. “I’m not getting into this here. I’ve said all that I need to say. If you need a reminder, you can look it up in the court documents from our divorce. It’s all in there.”

  Chad looked like he was about to start raising his voice, his face going red. That had always been what would get me to comply with him when we were married. He would threaten to start a scene, and I had been raised to never start a scene, ever. I had been raised to always be polite. Causing public embarrassment was his weapon against me, and he knew it. I’d always backed down.

  This time, I didn’t know what to do. Did I back down, since I truly didn’t want a fight or to ruin things for Layla? Or should I stand up to him since he was literally bullying me and he had started all of this, and hopefully gain some sympathy?

  Before I could decide, someone else got in between us. I recognized the person - Preston Andrews.

  He was a lawyer, and a friend of Chad’s. He had always been very friendly to me when we had met at parties or he had come over to the house.

  “Whoa, whoa, Chad, man, c’mon.” Preston gave him a winning smile. I had never seen Preston in court doing his thing, but I could easily imagine that this was the sort of smile he gave to the jury to sway them into his line of thinking. “Let’s take a quick walk outside, huh? Cool off a little, take some deep breaths?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Chad growled. “This is none of your business, Preston, shove off.”

  “I’m afraid that it’s always my business when a man is harassing a defenseless woman,” Preston replied. “This is a lovely party, we’re doing a lot of good for charity here, let’s remember that’s the focus. Raising money for the kids. I’m sure your father will want this remembered when it comes time for re-election - unless you don’t behave yourself in which case he’ll probably want this as forgettable as possible.”

  Chad glared at Preston. Chad’s father would bring the hammer down for sure if he learned that Chad had made a spectacle of himself at the charity party, and over me, especially. Aside from the governor’s public soft spot for me, he’d lectured Chad plenty in private over his treatment of me. Chad had never exactly measured up to his father’s hopes for him, and when I had finally quit and said enough, that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back in regards to his father’s respect for him.

  Preston was taking a real chance in bringing up the father angle. Chad could just find a way to retaliate at Preston for it, his pride wounded. Or he could give in, not wanting to risk his father’s wrath.

  For a few tense seconds, nothing happened. I could feel everyone’s eyes still on us and I just wanted to sink into the floor and die.

  Then Chad let out his breath and stepped back, dipping his head down, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll just…”

  He cleared his throat, then turned and walked directly through the crowd, out through the doors into the lobby and presumably out onto the street.

  I took a deep, shaky breath. People were muttering to one another but starting to drift away. Crisis averted. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for when I had come here - which was no gossip-worthy happenings whatsoever - but I’d take it. It was better than the yelling match that Chad had been gearing up for.

  Preston turned to me and I thought my knees might give out with rel
ief. “Thank you so much.”

  Preston gave me a smile, this one was a little different from the one that he’d given Chad, but suddenly, I felt a chill go down my spine - and not a good one. “Of course. I’m happy to help. Hey, maybe you could repay me by grabbing a coffee with me.”

  …repay. I didn’t like that word. I hadn’t asked him for help, or to step in. He had chosen to do that on his own. Just like I didn’t owe Chad anything, I didn’t owe Preston anything, either. His white knight routine was on him and if he truly cared about helping women then he would do it without expecting thanks or payment, even payment in the form of time spent together.

  This was what made me reluctant to trust men. Reluctant to start a new relationship. Not just the scars that Chad had left on my heart, but the fear of these so-called ‘nice men’, these men who would do things for women and expect a date or something in return, like women were vending machines where if you put enough kind actions in you would get sex in return.

  “I’m… I’m kind of busy moving right now,” I replied. “I’m not sure when I’ll be available…”

  “Oh, it wouldn’t take long,” Preston replied. He gave me another smile, this one warm, and I sensed that it was supposed to reassure me. Ironically enough I had Chad to thank for realizing how he was trying to manipulate me. These were the same basic tricks that Chad had always used on me.

  “I’m not sure…”

  Preston took my arm, leading me away from the buffet table and into the crowd, trapping me. I swallowed and kept my cool, even as my heart pounded. I supposed if nothing else, I was good at maintaining my poise and hiding my emotions. “It’s the least you can do for a friend helping you, and besides, I’d love to catch up with you. I think it’s been far too long since we talked.” He winked at me. “I’m just going to keep asking until you say yes.”

  Oh, God, and he probably had no idea how much of a threat that sounded to me, to any woman. But I wasn’t in the mood to fight him. I’d just avoided one argument, I wasn’t about to get into another. I’d go out for coffee with him, and it would be short and sweet, and that would be that.

  I forced a smile onto my face. “All right then.” I gave a little laugh, one that felt like it was scraping up my throat. I couldn’t help but remember how easily and loudly I had laughed with Ted, and compare the two.

  I wished that he was here now.

  “Great, I’ll let you know when. I have your number still, I believe.”

  “Yes, I think you do.” I had wanted to get around to changing it so that Chad couldn’t call me but I hadn’t had the time. I would have to get on that once this coffee date was finished. That way Chad and Preston both couldn’t get a hold of me.

  Preston neatly deposited me at the group where Layla was. “I’ll be seeing you,” he told me, his voice just low enough and his mouth just close enough to my ear to make it a bit intimate.

  I kept my smile on my face until he turned and left and I could grab Layla.

  “I’m so sorry for inviting you,” Layla whispered, making her excuses and dragging me away from the group. “I had no idea that Chad would be here or I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me!”

  “Whoa, hey, it’s not your fault,” I assured her. “You can’t control Chad and besides, I was bound to see him around town at some point. It’s a small community.”

  “Too small,” Layla muttered. “I understand if you want to leave…”

  I shook my head and said, with bravery that I didn’t really feel, “I’m not going to be chased off by the likes of Chad Seaworth.”

  Even as I said it though, I couldn’t help but feel that I had somehow, without even meaning to, leapt from the frying pan into the fire.

  13

  Ted

  It had been nearly a week - five days to be exact - since my talk over racquetball with David.

  What had seemed so simple while talking with him now seemed ludicrous all over again. Veronica couldn’t possibly want to be with me. She had said it herself, that this was just scratching an itch. This was just a one-time thing for her.

  How could I even hope to persuade her otherwise when she had been the one to dump me all those years ago without a second thought? Sure, she seemed to have changed. But that didn’t mean that her feelings for me - towards me - had changed. Was I just getting my hopes up for nothing? Just letting myself build up this impossible dream only to have my heart dashed all over again?

  Dammit, I hadn’t been this nervous about anything since my graduating exams in med school. Maybe not even then. After all, you could always go back and study over again for your exams and take them a second time. Hell, you could theoretically take them as many times as you wanted. But you couldn’t convince someone to love you if they didn’t. You couldn’t keep pestering them to date you when they had said no. It was thoughtless and selfish.

  Pull it together, man. I wouldn’t know until I tried, right? And I would have an answer either way and could start to properly move on. But how to bring up the subject? How to approach it?

  I had an appointment with her today. I spent all morning trying to think of a way to naturally and casually bring up the subject of dating, without making her bolt. Veronica had a bad marriage, I didn’t know details, but I knew enough from her to know that she wasn’t going to easily talk about relationships. I had to find a way to bring it all up without upsetting her so that I could then casually suggest the idea that I pass her along to another doctor and free us both up to date.

  Actually getting together the first time, in high school, had been easier than this. You’d think it would be the other way around, given how awkward everyone is in high school. And the alcohol and the party atmosphere had definitely helped that first time around.

  I gave myself a quick pep talk in the mirror before I stepped into the examination room to see her. I could handle this. I was a grown-ass man, for crying out loud. I would bring up the subject and ask if she would be open to the idea. I would tell her that just once wasn’t enough for me, that I still craved her, that it had all, in fact, gotten worse since I had slept with her. That I wanted her even more than I had before.

  And then I just had to trust that she felt the same way. That I could persuade her to open up her heart to me, despite how she had been hurt before.

  Because as much as I was reluctant to admit it, David was right: I had never gotten over Veronica, not really. And now that the physical was back into play, now that I had gotten a proper taste of her once, it was compounding the emotions that I had still held for her all this time and making me a proper goddamn mess.

  I took a deep breath, straightened out my shirt, and walked into the examination room.

  Veronica was sitting there, running her fingers through her hair as she waited for me. My throat went dry. I wanted to reach out and catch her fingers with mine, run my hand through her hair instead, tug on it the way that she liked - she was such a sucker for having her hair pulled and I used to use it to ruthless advantage when we were in high school.

  “Have you picked a donor?” I asked, trying to keep to professional subjects.

  “Not yet,” Veronica replied. “But I’ve made a list of qualities I’d like and I’m going to get that consultation where they compile a short list for you based on your requirements. I think that’ll help me, to choose between only about a dozen donors instead of two hundred.”

  “I agree.” I kept my distance from her, even as my body ached to draw closer. It was like I was dying and sick and she was the only cure. “So, let’s go over how the insemination process will work. I’ve found that a dry run helps my patients to feel more comfortable when the time comes for the actual procedure.”

  I had done this walkthrough hundreds of times - almost every day, in fact. No matter how prepared a person thought they were, when the time came there was a bit of nerves to get through, and knowing firsthand how it would all go (as much as it was possible to know ahead of time) helped to make that nervous time sh
orter and smaller. I didn’t want a patient to lose a chance at the child they wanted because they’d had a moment of panic that they couldn’t get over.

  But now I found myself stumbling a little. I could do this in my sleep, or so I’d thought, but now it was taking everything in me to concentrate. Veronica’s curves were right underneath the thin gown she was wearing, nothing but a bit of paper between her and my hands, my mouth.

  “Lie back,” I instructed, trying to keep my distance both literally and figuratively. “You’ll be given a mild sedative. Most of our patients don’t go to sleep but just sort of check out. They tend to report that the procedure feels like it’s over in seconds when usually it takes us about half an hour.” I chuckled. “I’ve had several patients ask me if I’d started when I was actually just finishing up.”

  “The one time that it’s okay to ask the guy if he’s inside you yet,” Veronica joked.

  I laughed. “Exactly.” I braced my hand on the exam table and realized that my fingers were shaking slightly. This close, I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. I felt like a moth being drawn to her flame.

  “Ro - Veronica,” I said, catching myself just in time before I said her nickname, “are you sure that you wouldn’t want to see another doctor?”

  She looked up at me and smiled…this warm, welcoming, but slightly naughty smile, just a teasing hint of what she was thinking about. “Why would I want to do that?”

  Because I’m going to ravish you, I thought, right as my self-control snapped and I pulled her to me, kissing her.

  Veronica moaned into my mouth, opening up for me at once, our tongues sliding together. It was zero to sixty and I felt dizzy, drowning. Her curves were under my hands, against my body, in seconds. Yes. Fuck yes.