Falling for my Neighbor: A Virgin Babysitter and Single Dad Romance

by Lila Younger

  Copyright

  © 2017 Lila Younger

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Vanessa

  Macon

  Vanessa

  Macon

  Vanessa

  Vanessa

  Macon

  Vanessa

  Macon

  Epilogue

  His Virgin Ward

  Isabelle

  Wyatt

  Isabelle

  Wyatt

  Isabelle

  Wyatt

  Isabelle

  Wyatt

  Isabelle

  Epilogue

  Other books by Lila Younger

  About Lila Younger

  Vanessa

  The little bell attached to the door rings as my mom and I walk through the door of the local computer store. We’re here because she needs to fix her Macbook Pro, and in our little town, there isn’t anywhere to go but here. Here being Summerdale, my home for all of my eighteen years. I’ve never known another home, and even though it might be quaint, I don’t ever want to either.

  The store is small and long. It used to be a house, and on the outside it still looks like it, but inside the walls have been knocked down. On my left side, there’s a counter with lots of different laptops and computers for people to try out, and there’s a big glass wall of small electronics on the right side. There’s a few cardboard setups in the middle for phones from different companties-T-Mobile, Verizon-along with the newest smartphones and the various plans on offer.

  Harvey, the man in charge of the whole place, pokes his head out from the door of the back office, breaks out into a smile when he sees us and slowly ambles out while we make our way to the service desk.

  “Diane, what a surprise,” he says. “And Vanessa too! How are the two of you doing?”

  “There’s something wrong with this piece of metal,” my mom says, slapping the Macbook on the counter. “I knew that I shouldn’t have gone electronic.”

  Harvey pulls the Macbook over to him, and pulls down his small round glasses over his face.

  “Let me take a look at this before we condemn all electronics,” he says easily. “I think it shouldn’t be too hard to fix.”

  “I don’t know. There’s just a blue screen whenever I try to boot it up. I mean, I did get it to work once it a while, but it won’t open any of the programs or anything.”

  “You’re in good hands now though,” he says. “I love a tricky problem.”

  “So how’s your wife doing?” my mom asks conversationally.

  My mom knows just about every person in this town. She’s the local real estate agent after all, and at one time or another, she’s helped every last person buy or sell their home. Or try to anyways. She’s also one of those really outgoing people, who can strike up a conversation with strangers and leave them as friends too. She loves talking to everyone. When I was growing up, I dreaded leaving the house because I knew that ‘quick errands’ were never quick.

  It’s kind of funny now that I really think about it, because dad and I are quite introverted. Dad more than me, but we definitely are shy and prefer our own company. It always takes me time to warm up to someone, to tell my personal things to a friend. That’s why it always embarassed me when my mom had no filter at all and told everyone everything. A lot of my childhood was spent with my nose stuck in a book, which is also why I needed glasses in the first grade. I’ve got contacts now, but those glasses really helped cement the idea that I was a nerd, and I was never the popular or pretty one growing up.

  As Harvey tinkers away, I let my eyes sort of wander through the store. Harvey sells everything electronic here on Main Street, including computer games and stuff too. I don’t know how he’s able to stay in business, especially now that you can buy whatever you want from the internet, but there’s always people like my parents I guess, who would prefer to hold something in their hands before they buy it.

  Harvey’s not the only guy who has a place here on Main Street either. All of the places on the street are owned by locals who live here. That’s how it’s always been in Summerdale, my home. It’s sort of like a postcard, that’s how cute and pretty the place is, and lots of families like to live here because of it. Low crime, good education, and that small town community feel. At least, it seems that way, from how busy and successful my mom is.

  That’s why I really hope Harvey can fix the laptop. Her whole business is on it, and there’s definitely going to be trouble if we can’t get the information back. At first, I thought maybe she’d made a mistake or something. She’s awful with technology and electronics, and she always has to ask me how to do things with her smartphone that I taught her a million times before. We got her a MacBook for Christmas thinking that it would be the easiest one to work, but now it’s broken. Oops.

  Harvey looks up.

  “I think I know how to fix it, but I’m going to need a few minutes to move the data around first so it’s saved in a safe place. Then I can try some solutions.”

  “You can do whatever you want if you can get that thing fixed,” mom tells him.

  “You got it Diane,” he says, tucking the laptop under his massive arm. “I’ll be right back.”

  The bell above the door dings again, and a homely woman steps into the store. She’s wearing a man’s shirt and elastic banded mom jeans. My mom turns around, and gets that look in her eye that always means she’s about to trap someone else in a conversation.

  “Sarah!” my mom says. “How are you doing? Are you all settled into your new home?”

  The two of them start to chat and I drift away, absentmindedly looking at the display. I’m not surprised at all that it’s one of mom’s clients. It always is.

  Towards the front of the store are the digital cameras, and I stop in front of the one I really want. A Nikon D5600. Great for people who really want to get into photography, but with it’s $800 price tag, it’s not something I’ll be getting anytime soon. Still, a girl can dream.

  I stand in front of the camera for a few more moments, then I wrench myself away. There’s only so long I can torture myself over what I can’t have after all. I look out the front window instead and suck in my breath.

  It’s John coming up the sidewalk. I immediately step back from the window and pray he doesn’t come in. He walks by with that swagger of his, jeans hanging low off his hips and his baseball cap pulled backwards. It’s not until he crosses the front of the store that I finally release the air I’ve been holding in.

  John is the latest disaster in a series of disasters when it comes to my dating life. Not that I have much of one. But my friends all insist on hooking me up with people, and for whatever reason, despite the fact that we’ve gone through elementary, junior high, and high school (we are in a small town after all!), they can’t seem to figure out what kind of guy I’d be compatible with.

 
; When I think about it though, John’s not even the worst. We just had zero in common. It should have ended after the first coffee date, when we literally sat in silence for five minutes at a time, but for some reason, the guy persisted. I gave it a second shot, but we watched a movie, and our whole conversation was literally “hi” and “goodnight”.

  He’s texted me a few times since, and I’ve ignored every one. I don’t know how he couldn’t think that the dates were as bad as I think they are, but the last thing I need is to bump into him and ask me out again.

  Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find someone. I’m eighteen and still a virgin, whereas every one of my friends are paired up. I’ve always been the extra wheel in our group, and the loneliness stings.

  There are times I wonder if it’s easier to settle, but I just can’t do it. Not yet. Not when I know there’s someone out there that can make my whole body heat up and my heart explode out of my chest. Although he’s moved away, and probably would never come back to boring old Summerdale…

  I’m standing by the laptops, absentmindedly clicking things on one of them when I hear his name. I still get wobbly at the knees when I think about him.

  “…out of her mind for leaving Macon like that. Not to mention their daughter.”

  I sidle back closer to mom and Sarah, hoping against hope that they’re talking about my Macon. I mean, how many people could be named that right?

  “It’s not right,” my mom clucks sympathetically. “A single dad like that is going to have it tough. At least Summerdale’s a better place to raise a child than the city.”

  “I agree,” Sarah says wholeheartedly. “It’s too bad that he won’t be giving out tennis lessons anymore.”

  I had a feeling that quite a few stay-at-home-moms felt that way. Macon Daniels, with his chestnut brown hair, sparkling green eyes, and ripped body was a sight to behold on the court. A literal walking wet dream. He was a student at the local college, supplementing his tuition by offering tennis lessons. Is it any surprise that suddenly the sport became the hottest thing in Summerdale?

  “Did you say that Macon Daniels is back?” I ask Sarah, trying not to sound too interested, even though the whole time my heart’s hammering in my chest.

  She turns to me with a knowing smile.

  “Bumped into him myself while he was moving in three doors down. He was holding his daughter and telling the guys where to put the boxes. She looks the spitting image of her daddy. When I asked where her mom was, he said they were divorced. Sounded pretty terse about it, so I think it must have been pretty bad,” she says, leaning in for the last part even though we were the only ones in the store.

  I feel an irrational pang of jealousy that Sarah would be able to see him everyday, even though we lived down the street. Then I feel a rush of relief knowing that Macon isn’t with anyone. And then guilt comes in, because I can only imagine what that poor little girl of his is going through. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, that’s for sure.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t hear about this,” mom mutters under her breath. “Why didn’t he go through me?”

  “I think the house belongs to one of his relatives, or something like that. He’s just renting it from them for now.”

  My mom fishes out a business card and hands it to Sarah.

  “Here, give him this and let him know that I’d be happy to help him find a home for his little girl to grow up in. I know Summerdale better than anyone.”

  That’s my mom for you. She’s a sharp businesswoman, full of ambition and determination. It’s super impressive to me actually, even if it does mean she’s pushing me to go into business school all the time. I mean, I can understand where she’s coming from. Back in her day, women were expected to get married and then stay home and pop out children. But she bucked all those stereotypes, and created a thriving business under her own name.

  I just don’t know if I have that kind of fight in me. I don’t have that hunger for recognition and success that she does. I’m happy with a quiet, peaceful life, and I can’t wait to be a mom. I’ve always loved children, which is why I worked as a babysitter all through high school. Not that I would tell her of course. She’d be appalled I think.

  “Actually,” Sarah says, breaking into my thoughts. “Macon did mention that he was looking for a babysitter for when his daughter while he works. Are you still doing that these days, Vanessa?”

  My eyes widen. Getting to see him five days a week, every week? It sounds almost too good to be true.

  “Sure,” I say with a smile. “I love working with kids.”

  My mom frowns at me.

  “What about your school?” she asks me.

  “I’m taking a semester off to figure out what I want to do,” I remind her. “Please let him know I’d be happy to babysit for his daughter.”

  Sarah smiles at me.

  “You’ve got a great daughter here,” she says to my mom.

  “Very great,” my mom echoes.

  I can tell she’s not too pleased by the idea of babysitting every day, but she did tell me to try to find a part time job because it would look better than having a gap in my schooling. I guess she figured it would be something like creating my own business or building a startup, not babysitting.

  Harvey finally comes out of his office, carrying my mom’s laptop.

  “Good news, Claire,” he says. “I’ve managed to fix things I think. If it happens again, let me know, but I’m pretty confident I got it working again. Do you want me to walk through what happened?”

  “Oh heavens no,” my mom says, waving her hand. “I wouldn’t understand any of it anyways. As long as it’s working, I’m happy.”

  My mom pulls out her wallet and pays Harvey, then waves to Sarah.

  “I’ve got a gorgeous little Cape Cod that won’t last for long,” my mom says urgently. “Tell Macon to call me.”

  We head back out of the store, the bell ringing above us. I feel like I’m walking on air, I’m so happy. I just hope that Sarah does remember to tell Macon that I can babysit.

  I just can’t believe it, I think. The one man I’ve ever been interested in has come back.

  To this day, I can still remember how I met Macon Daniels. I was ten, awkward and gangly and clumsy. Someone gave me a Backstreet Boys CD for my birthday, and my friends and I became obsessed with boys overnight, arguing for hours over which one was the cutest.

  For some reason that I can’t remember, I decided to quit swimming lessons. My mom insisted that I do a sport, because even back then, she was thinking about business school for me, so on a whim I decided to try out tennis at the Y.

  Macon was in college at the time, a second year who was trying to pay for tuition by teaching on the side.

  Up until I saw him, I never thought that someone as hot as the Backstreet Boys could ever come to my boring town. But there was, and he became the star of every one of my teenage fantasies. I imagined dating him, marrying him, even having his kids. I wanted to give him my virginity.

  I still do, if I had to be honest. It seems sort of like a cheesy thing to do, but there’s nobody else I want to share my first time with.

  Anyways, I was immediately head over heels into a crush, one that I still have to this day. I would practice my swings for hours at home, hoping for a compliment from him, until I realized that he’d help me with my swings if I was terrible. The way he touched me left invisible marks on my skin, burning me up.

  Sometimes I cringe at tween me, because there’s no way that he didn’t know that I liked him. I mean, I turned into a tomato every time I saw him, and I asked so many questions, trying to learn everything I could about him. I thought I was being sly, reading up on books he like, music he listened to, but I definitely wasn’t.

  Macon never made me feel embarrassed about it though. He always treated me kindly, and never made me feel like the little kid that I was. And then there was the volunteering, the sunny smile he had for everyone, the sincerely good personali
ty that he had. I mean, he’s the kind of person who would help a little old lady with her groceries even if there was nobody around to see him do it. It’s no wonder every woman in Summerdale with a pulse liked him.

  And he liked someone back, or at least, for a while he did. A divorce sure is hard, especially when there’s a baby involved, but I’m pathetically happy it didn’t work out. That means there’s a chance for me.

  When Macon left, I kept track of him through Facebook and the media. Because at the time, I didn’t know that he was the heir to Daniels Communications, a huge media company that extended from magazines to T.V. channels to radio. I was awed. He always seemed so down to earth to me.

  The longer time passed, the more I further I felt from him. There’s no way that we could ever cross paths again, I thought with regret.

  I was older now, more mature. My body finally got the message, and I actually had hips and breasts. I looked like a woman instead of a child. But to Macon I would probably forever be that awkward, quiet kid.

  Until now. Now I had a chance to prove myself. Fate somehow threw us together again, and I just had to believe that it could happen. That he’d notice me. There was such a big age gap back, but now that we’re both adults, surely it couldn’t matter now?

  No, I think shaking my head. It always will, and I should just forget about it. There’s no way that it could happen.

  Macon

  The doorbell rings for the tenth time and I have to put down the shirt I’m hanging up on the bed to get it. It’s likely one of the neighbors coming over with a plate of welcome cookies. I think we’ve already got enough to last us until Christmas, but I’m grateful for the warm welcome. I don’t think I ever even met my neighbors across the hall in my old apartment.

  Moving Jamie and I to Summerdale was difficult on my own. On paper the move is a no brainer. My parents now live only forty-five minutes away instead of three hours, I’m able to afford a house in a good school district instead of our cramped two-bedroom in the city, and my work as a manager will provide a steady schedule, even if it’s boring.

  At least I don’t have to worry about Jamie since she’s just under a year old. She’s probably forgotten all about the city and everything else too. And she’ll be too little to remember her absent mother.