Daddy Next Door - The Complete Series Box Set (A Single Dad Navy SEAL Romance)

by Claire Adams

  I took his hand and squeezed. "But it did! Much more than the rest of today. Sienna knew we liked the same things and she wanted to give you things you liked, so she gave you my stuff."

  Owen smiled. "Yeah, Sienna always figured out how to remove the guesswork from anything."

  We sat for a moment, and I was happy to finally be remembering my sister for who she was. When I realized I was still holding Owen's hand, the heat went directly to my cheeks.

  "Sorry," I said.

  "It’s okay, Quinn," Owen said. He moved closer and took my hand again. "Don't you ever think Sienna might have wanted this? She was always matching us up, always putting us together."

  "Then why were you dating?"

  "Sienna wanted a high school sweetheart. Those stories don't include breaking up freshman year and spending the rest of high school trying to find someone else," Owen said.

  "You wanted to break up freshman year?"

  "It was pretty easy to discover that Sienna and I did not like the same things," he shrugged.

  "Then why were you dating Sienna?" I asked. I thought about my beautiful, perfect sister and my cheeks flared even hotter. "Never mind."

  "No, Quinn, it wasn't like that. Sienna made things easy for me. I'm not a joiner, I don't like being in the middle of things. I never would have experienced half of high school if it wasn't for her. I would have been down here." He looked around our basement family room.

  "With me?"

  I was not ready when Owen looked back. His blue eyes were too bright, his grip on my hand too warm and tight. He leaned forward and the nearer he came, the less breath I was able to capture. I sat airless and in the vacuum hope, excitement, and fear fought. We couldn't do this, could we?

  "Quinn? Are you down there again?"

  "Father?" I asked. I dropped Owen's hand as if it had burned me.

  "We're going to order a pizza. Come up and join us," my father said.

  I thought about all the food from the funeral and realized the thought of it turned my stomach as well. I had hardly eaten all day and pizza sounded good. Even though all my father's invitations sounded like orders.

  "I'll be up in a minute." I turned to Owen and whispered. "Wait a couple of minutes and go out the kitchen door."

  He smiled and patted my leg. "Don't worry. I've done this before."

  In the kitchen, my stomach was still fluttering with excitement. I felt as if my brain had no control over my emotions anymore and I swung from one feeling to the next without thought. Sienna was gone, I was still reeling in shock, and yet Owen felt the same. About everything. All those years of longing and the feelings might not have been unrequited. I clung to that joyful thought.

  "Oh, there you are, darling. I ordered the pizza with the sun-dried tomatoes. Just like you like," my mother said.

  "That was Sienna," I said.

  "Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot you were home," my mother said. She poured a glass of white wine. "There's a special on the bridges of Paris, your father thought you might want to watch it while we eat. The pizza should be ready any minute."

  "That was Sienna, too," I said. "You start without me and I'll go pick up the pizza."

  Sienna loved Paris. It was her daydream city. Whenever she was feeling sad or pressured or stressed, she made imaginary plans to go to Paris.

  "It feels good to think about leaving it all behind and going somewhere I've always longed to go," Sienna had explained. "Where would you go? And you can't say Paris."

  "Las Vegas," I had told her.

  "We live in Las Vegas."

  "The Strip. All the lights, all the people from other places," I had tried to explain.

  "All the flashing screens and video games?" Sienna had cocked an eyebrow at me. "You sound just like Owen. He's always wanting to go there. I mean, it’s fun once or twice, but I'm not into playing video games on wall-sized screens or whatever it is you two like to do."

  I fought the overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive the 15 minutes to the Strip. People who lived in and around Las Vegas generally avoided that area like the plague. To me, it had a comforting aspect – like a part of my imagination come to life. And it did not hurt that no one there knew me or Sienna or what had happened.

  #

  "If you're ready now, we can take the long way into town. I know you love that drive," my father said. He strolled into the kitchen, checking his watch.

  "That was Sienna," I said. "Sienna liked to take the long way because she had a dream house picked out on top of the hill."

  Summerlin was a relatively small community, so the long way was actually just a tour of the neighborhoods. The houses were impressive and it was fun to drive at night and peek into other people's lives.

  The pizza place we liked was only a few minutes away, but Sienna and my father were sometimes gone for nearly 45 minutes. They drove around and plotted her perfect future. She wanted to be surgeon at one of the exclusive private hospitals in Las Vegas where she could treat rich people from all over the world without leaving her hometown. My father had even taken on clients from those hospitals to make sure Sienna would have the contacts she needed.

  My father stopped and his watch arm dropped. He just stood in the corner of the kitchen and stared at the floor. "Well, the pizza will be ready soon. We should leave in about 15 minutes."

  He shuffled back towards the front room as I leaned on the counter. I clung to Sienna's idea of a daydream city. It was easy to picture Las Vegas. I always started with the Paris Casino, the faux Eiffel Tower was something I often teased Sienna about. From there, I pictured the Bellagio's dancing fountains and the Luxor's sleek black lines. I also loved the roller coaster facade of New York, New York and the white columns of Caesar's Palace.

  I focused in on the arcade at the MGM Grand. Beyond the normal kid games, they had interactive and full-sized gaming consoles where you could actually feel like you were inside the game. I wanted to step inside one and let everything else fade away.

  Still, my daydream was not holding. Sienna was right. Tonight, Las Vegas was not far enough away and I had 15 minutes to escape. I put my head on my arms as I leaned on the counter and tried again.

  This time my daydream city was a foreign land. Dark plains that held pockets of fog, black granite cliffs that jutted up before shadowy mountains, dim forest glens and silent stands of towering pine trees.

  I had enough time to at least cue up Dark Flag and take a look around. I headed downstairs to the basement. There, I brushed aside the items Owen had returned and settled in on the worn leather sofa. Our wide screen television buzzed to life on the home screen of the video game and I quickly booted up my character.

  Dark Flag was the perfect daydream city. Sienna would have scoffed at it, but it made sense to me. She planned trips to Paris in her head, I was jumping into the virtual rendering of the place I wanted to escape to. The game started with a dark screen full of black thunderclouds. Lightning flashed across the screen and the surrounded sound exploded. The game then dropped you through the thunderstorm and deposited you on the starting grid, a rainy road outside the walls of a looming city.

  I thought for a moment about entering the city walls. It was easy to wander around there and people watch. The multi-player online game attracted millions of people from around the globe. Walking through the virtual city was what a lot of new players did. It was a chance to see what other people had done with their avatars. You could also purchase weapons, charms, and spells, instead of earning them in the field. Or you could head to one of the many taverns and interact with other avatars, as Owen had explained.

  I turned away from the city. The whole point of my daydream was to escape from people, even virtual people. I knew Owen had been playing the Black Fields with his clan, so I turned in the opposite direction. I had never been inside the Pitch Forest and I had just enough time to explore before my father expected me to join him in the car.

  The Pitch Forest was a massive landscape of huge pine trees an
d redwoods. My human avatar was tiny in comparison. The animation was amazing and for a while, I was perfectly content to look around and admire the quality of the game. Here and there the trees had carvings on them – signs from other players about which way the wayside inn was located and where the ogre caves could be found. The players themselves had created an entire language of symbols that I had just begun to unlock.

  "My next victim," an underling player said.

  All new players to Dark Flag started off as underlings. The lower evolved humans scuttled along on hands and feet like hairless dogs. Players stayed in that form until they fought others and earned their evolution. Dark Flag did not make it easy to sit down and start playing.

  It had taken me three days to evolve into an avatar I wanted to play. "Wrong, newbie," I said.

  The underling jumped at me and I knocked it back with an easy sequence. I could have killed it, causing the other player to have to wait an hour before rejoining the game, but the hand-to-hand combat was a good distraction.

  The underling found its footing again and picked up a rock. "I'm not helpless," it said.

  "You're not smart either," I sent my avatar forward with a sharp kick.

  The rock slipped out of the underling’s hand and we grappled again. Underlings used teeth and nails to fight, but my leather jacket and pants, purchased in Black Wall City, kept me safe. I punched it back and we circled around again.

  Just when I thought it was going to attack again, the underling spotted a Green Elf and decided to go after easier prey than me.

  All in all, it was five minutes of distraction. I still had enough time to wander to the high cliffs and look down on the Black Fields, or I could finally accept a quest and start playing the game in earnest.

  The redwood tree nearest me had a carving of a sideways “S.” The symbol meant a Soothsayer was near. Soothsayers could be fought for Fate spells. Or, if you found them and asked, they would assign you a quest.

  I searched amongst the tall trees for the telltale glow of a Soothsayer's trail. Their footprints glittered before fading and after a quick search, I found some that still sparkled. I followed the trail until the Soothsayer appeared.

  "Will you fight for your Fate, human?" it asked me.

  "I wish a quest," I said. I knelt in front of the Soothsayer. The first time I had encountered one, I did not kneel and it knocked me out for ten minutes for being rude.

  "Your quest will not be easy. It is far beyond the Black Fields, far beyond the capability of a mere human," the Soothsayer said.

  "I want to try."

  "Then you must travel far and find the warlock that will lead the Southern clan. He holds a Portal Key. Use that key to enter the dragon's cave. It has been too long since it flew. The Black Fields must be scorched, you must release the dragon," the Soothsayer said.

  The game was evolving based on the players that dominated. The creators had certain ways of leveling the playing field such as plagues, natural disasters, and dragons. It was my quest to activate one of those levelers. That also meant I had the power to warn people or lure them to the Black Fields and eliminate my enemies.

  My first instinct was to find Owen and tell him about my quest, but before I could leave the Pitch Forest, I was stopped by another player. The Green Witch was unnaturally voluptuous, as most female avatars were. Her iridescent green dress clung hard to her curvaceous frame and even as she spoke to me, her avatar struck several sexy poses.

  "Don't go that way. Clansmen are all over the trail. It’s not safe," the Green Witch said. "Unless you have something to trade."

  I did not dare ask what she had traded for safe passage. "Thanks, but I think I know some of them."

  "This isn't the Light Clan. It’s new, started by a Thief King. They play dirty," the Green Witch said. "They have Thrall Spells. You can lose two lives or be stuck watching them play for a full 24 hours."

  I thanked her and made my way cautiously through the Pitch Forest. I needed to follow the trail out to the Black Fields, but I barely knew how to play, much less how to play dirty.

  I heard the chatter the closer I got to the trail. The Thief King was building a camp among the redwoods. Once avatars were well-established, they could actually create dwellings. Base camps or homes allowed a player to recharge without leaving the game.

  I stopped and studied the command menu. I needed to know how to walk silently. I also needed to know how to hide. I wanted to hear what they were talking about.

  "I know there's a way to make the Thralls do what we want," the Thief King was saying. "I read about the possibility of a Thrall army. We can do that and take on the Light Slayer."

  I recognized Owen's player name. He was called Light Slayer because early on he had found the Sun Sword. It was part of the reason he was able to become Dark Flag's first clan leader. Too bad others were catching on fast. I did not like the sound of a Thrall army.

  I made it past the camp and crossed the trail without being seen. Once I was amongst the redwoods and pines again, I relaxed.

  It was a big mistake since out of nowhere, a Cloaked Corpse appeared. Cloaked Corpses traded the ability to speak for unlimited lives. They were not able to work together with other players so they were often alone. But because of the unlimited lives, they were impossible to kill.

  I had no spells, only a Frost Sword. The Cloaked Corpse attacked and before I could think of a plan, I had to fight. If I did not avoid its razor sharp nails, there was a possibility my avatar would also become a Cloaked Corpse. They were the Dark Flag version of zombies.

  I was about to give up and try to run when a bright flash of light obliterated the screen.

  "Don't worry, Quinn, I got you," a voice said.

  Light Slayer appeared, his Sun Sword sending out solar flares that blinded the Cloaked Corpse. He did not even have to fight to chase off the other player.

  "Stop, don't," I told him. "There's a new clan nearby. A Thief King."

  "His name's Balon," Owen said. "If we let him get more established, there will be bigger rewards when his clan falls." Still, he sheathed his Sun Sword and told his clan members to go and spy on the rival clan.

  We were alone in the Pitch Forest.

  It was strange to stand facing Owen's avatar. When he removed his helmet, I saw his avatar looked exactly like him. Not many people chose to be themselves in the game, but there we were, animated versions of ourselves.

  "I'm glad you're here," Owen said.

  "Me, too." I was about to tell him my quest when I saw his avatar pause.

  "Sorry, Quinn, I gotta go," Owen said. He exited the game and Light Slayer disappeared.

  I stood by myself in the Pitch Forest.

  "Quinn? Can you go get the pizza by yourself?" my mother asked from the top of the stairs. "Your father had to make a phone call."

  He would have gone with Sienna, but I was used to being sent off on my own.

  #

  I got in the car, my head full of Dark Flag. It was easier than thinking about anything else.

  Owen's avatar moved differently than any other player. He knew the commands and sequences so well that his avatar moved fluidly. I was impressed – and more than flattered that he had arrived just in time to save me. The game had notifications so a message could be sent when certain players logged on. Owen must have added me. Dark Flag's first clan leader saving some novice human; there was going to be talk.

  I smiled to myself. It was nice that there was a whole other world where rumors like that were thrilling instead of awkward. I was wondering if I could handle the same talk in the real world when a knock on the window made me jump.

  "I could use a little fresh air," my father said, getting into the passenger seat.

  That meant my mother was taking a down turn. "Fresh air" was my father's polite way of saying he could not take the brunt of her blackening mood. He clipped his seatbelt on and turned the radio off.

  "Should I take the long way?" I asked.

  He
nodded as I realized I had no idea which way the long route was. I turned right out of our driveway. My father did not seem to notice the world outside of the car. I kept driving and he did not care. He studied his hands quietly until I wondered if he had drifted off to sleep.

  "Sorry for sending you out like that. I should have just gone myself," he finally said.

  "It’s no problem. I wanted the fresh air myself," I replied.

  My father opened his mouth and then popped it shut. He scrubbed his chin a few times before he said anything. "Your sister always had something to say. She was easy to talk to. There was always the next step of her plan to discuss, the accomplishments she could already check off. Sienna was going up and up."

  "Thinking about the future made her happy," I said. The words left a painful reverberation in the car.

  Sienna was only happy when she was discussing future plans. She never stopped to concentrate on where she was – or who she was with for that matter. She lived to become a projected version of herself. The perfect version of Sienna was always a few steps away in the certain future.

  If she lost that certainty, even for a moment, a gloom fell over everything around her. When Sienna stopped to look around her, she found faults everywhere and her mood plummeted. I knew that was exactly what had happened, but I could not tell my father.

  "What about your future?" my father asked. "You don't seem to spend much time thinking about it."

  I gripped the steering wheel harder to keep the accusation in his tone from knocking us off course. "I have been lately," I said. "I think I should meet with my advisor again and discuss majors. There might be a better fit out there for me."

  "Of course. Some people would take a tragedy like this and turn it into a reason to work hard with every breath. And some take it as an excuse to go spinning off into la-la-land," my father said.

  I held on tighter. "No. It’s just I think I let Sienna influence me too much. She was always so excited about becoming a surgeon, she made us all excited about it too. I think that's why I chose nursing, not because I loved it. You have to love it to be good at it."