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

by Claire Adams

  “Stop that!” I scolded, as the mouse wriggled a little and then went limp again. Howard looked up at me, blinked once, and began vigorously licking his paw and cleaning his head before he stopped and followed me. I stepped out onto the back porch, walked down the stairs, and across the yard, where I flung the now-squirming rodent over the back fence into the woods behind my house.

  “You’re impossible; you know that, right?” I said, as I looked at the round cat sitting on the top step of the porch. Howard blinked and mewed in protest as I climbed the stairs.

  “I supposed you want lunch now, eh?” I asked, as he watched me make my way up the steps.

  Howard blinked once and turned toward the door, waiting for me to let him inside. I shook my head and held the door open as he regally entered the house. He was an odd cat, and had been since I’d found him as a kitten crying outside the back door of the run-down house I’d been living in while going to college. It had rained that night, and he was soaking wet. I’d taken one look at the tiny little face and dripping whiskers and then became the sucker of the century. I’d named him after my favorite historian at Boston University, Howard Zinn, and had done my best to keep his presence on the down low since the lady I rented from didn’t like cats. With his mellow personality, Howard had proved to be a bit standoffish and, except for the fact that half the time he refused to kill the prey he presented me with, I found him to be an ideal companion.

  “Couldn’t you just kill it before you bring it to me?” I asked, as I scooped the dry food into his bowl and pulled the water bowl off the floor so I could wash and refill it. “I mean, there’s plenty of them to catch, and how much trouble would it be to just bite their heads off?”

  Howard didn’t look up from his food, and when I replaced the water bowl, he simply gave me the old side eye. I loved his grumpy-yet-superior attitude, and the fact that he was more than happy to stretch himself across my lap at night while I graded papers, watched a documentary, or caught up on the latest historical nonfiction book I’d ordered. Together we shared a quiet, but comfortable, life.

  “Hey, Em, you home?” a voice called from the front room. “Em?”

  “Back here in the kitchen, KO!” I called as my best friend, Kendra Ornish, came bounding into the kitchen. She was the exact opposite of me in almost every way. She was tall and thin with olive skin and a mop of thick black curls that she often tried to tame with a pair of chopsticks. She dressed like a biker, in jeans and long sleeve T-shirts with sayings on them like “Fuck Authority. I AM the Authority.” Unlike my own, KO spent her childhood being bounced around from family member to family member until her grandparents, Memaw and Pop, had finally taken her in for good when she was in her teens. She was outgoing and brutally honest, and it came in handy in her line of work as a bartender at The Lucky Clover. I also loved the way she embraced life and the way she swept me up with her. I said, “I’m making lunch; you hungry?”

  “I hadn’t seen you in a few days, and I wanted to make sure those high schoolers hadn’t plowed you under,” Kendra said, as she walked toward the island, leaned across it, and grabbed half of the tuna sandwich I’d put on a plate and took a huge bite. She mumbled with a full mouth, “You know me, I could eat a bit.”

  Laughing, I pushed the plate across the counter and went to the fridge to get her something to drink. “Soda?” I asked.

  She nodded and took another huge bite out of the sandwich. I slid a cold can across the counter and began making a second sandwich for myself.

  “Damn girl, you’re like one of my 10th graders!” I laughed as Kendra made quick work of the first half of the sandwich and most of the chips.

  “The benefits and drawbacks of spending my childhood as a ping pong ball,” she shrugged, after taking a long drink from the can. “Eat or be eaten! Speaking of 10th graders, how are classes going?”

  “Not bad,” I said, as I spread mayo on a slice of bread and then added lettuce and a spoonful of tuna. “They’re antsy with the holidays coming up, but they’re doing their best.”

  “You could not pay me enough to be a high school teacher,” Kendra muttered, as Howard hopped up on the stool next to her and sat silently staring at her as she ate the second half of her sandwich. When she looked down at him, he looked away.

  “You’d be good at it, KO,” I laughed, as I added a handful of chips to my plate and walked around to sit on the third stool at the counter. Howard sat between us staring straight ahead, but I could tell he was simply trying to gauge which one of us was most likely to give him a bite of our tuna sandwich. I sat down and added, “You’ve got a wealth of experience talking to people who don’t always want to listen.”

  “God, isn’t that the truth?” she sighed, as she reached over and gave Howard a pat on the head. He responded by maintaining his thousand-yard stare and ignoring her. “Speaking of the bar and unruly customers, you want to come have a drink tonight? It’s two-for-one from 5 to 7, and it’s never very crowded.”

  “Sounds tempting, but I still got a stack of papers left to grade,” I said, thinking about the 30 essays on early 20th century immigration sitting on the coffee table waiting for me to evaluate.

  “You can’t keep hiding, Em,” Kendra said, as she petted Howard, who suddenly turned and swatted her with his big fat paw. She pulled her hand back as she said, “Hey, buster! Don’t swat me! You know this cat is anti-social don’t you? You’re not helping matters by emulating him, Em.”

  “I’m not anti-social,” I protested weakly.

  “Well, you’re certainly not social,” she replied. “You need to get out and live a little, Em. You can’t stay locked up forever.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, waving my hand at her as I picked up my sandwich and took a bite. I chewed slowly as Howard bumped his head against my arm. I ignored him and said, “Maybe once I get this stack done, I can come out and play?”

  “Now that’s more like it!” Kendra smiled. She tipped the soda can up and drank the last of what was in it and then belched loudly. I laughed and shook my head as she stood up and grabbed her keys. “I gotta go. It’s my night to set up the happy hour bar and pick out the music!”

  “What are you spinning?” I asked.

  “Probably some Dropkick Murphys and a buttload of Tommy Clancy drinking songs,” she said. “The guys like the authentic flair, you know?”

  “Sounds like a loud night,” I laughed. “I’m sure you’ll have the night of your life and earn a fortune in tips.”

  “Eh, it’s post-flag football night, so it’ll be mainly FD and PD guys,” she shrugged. “They’re a bunch of cheap bastards.”

  “I’m sorry I’ll miss the fun,” I said, wondering if I should push the grading aside and go down to the bar.

  “You can always change your mind!” Kendra shouted, as she pulled open the front door and headed out to her Mustang. I could hear her revving the engine in the driveway as I reconsidered my choice to stay home and grade.

  “I could go for an hour or two,” I said, looking over at Howard, who was still perched on the bar stool. He blinked once and looked away. I sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. That’s not very responsible of me, is it?”

  I finished my lunch and returned to grading. Curled up on the couch, I read paper after paper, marking them up and wondering where I’d gone wrong in the lesson to end up with such poorly supported thesis statements and lack of primary source evidence. I sighed as I wrote a C- on the paper I’d just read.

  Howard hopped up onto the edge of the couch and gently patted my arm until I moved the stack of papers out of his way. He curled up in my lap and promptly fell asleep purring contentedly with his nose buried between his paws.

  “A nap sounds good right about now,” I said, as I slowly stroked his soft fur. He stretched a little in response and rested his head on my stomach. I pulled the quilt draped over the back of the couch over my legs and slid down so that I could rest my head on the pillow I’d been leaning on. With an arm over Howard, I
drifted off to sleep.

  BRRRRING! BRRRING! BRRRING!

  “Huh? What?” I mumbled, as I was jolted out of my sleep by the sound of my phone. By the sound of the ring, I knew who it was, but I reached over and grabbed the phone from the coffee table to check the screen. It was my mother. I stared at the phone as the ringing continued and then reached up and hit “Send to voicemail” before setting the phone back down again.

  Howard stretched lazily on my lap and flipped over so that his soft, furry belly was fully exposed. I pulled myself up into a sitting position as I continued petting him. He mewed softly and put a fat paw on my hand before rolling over and going right back to sleep.

  “Must be really nice to be you, eh?” I chuckled softly, as I reached up and turned on the lamp next to the sofa and grabbed the remaining papers.

  I had work to finish.

  Chapter Three

  Blake

  Sunday morning I was up bright and early, despite the fact that Nina and I had stayed up late watching all three Saw movies. I peeked into her room and found her buried beneath the purple comforter still sound asleep, so I closed the door and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. I turned on the local news and heard the meteorologist predicting that a major snowstorm was headed our way in the next few days.

  Snow meant that we’d most likely be busy dealing with small fires caused by space heaters and fireplaces that hadn’t been properly cleaned since last winter. I poured myself a cup of coffee and stood looking out the kitchen window into the front yard. The last storm had knocked loose some branches, and I could see that I needed to get out there and cut them down before the weight of the coming snow caused them to break. I finished up my coffee and tossed on some sweats and a jacket before heading out to grab a ladder and the saw.

  “Hey Blake! How’s it going, man?” a voice called from the sidewalk. I lowered the saw and turned to see Jake and Kathy Baker staring up at me. I hadn’t made up my mind about whether or not I wanted to go down the swingers road, and as a result, they made it clear how they felt every time they saw me.

  “Good, good. How are you two doing?” I asked, as I decided not to come down off the ladder.

  “I see Nina’s here for the weekend,” Kathy said, as they crossed the lawn and stood staring up at me from below.

  “Yeah, it’s my weekend to deal with all the teenage angst and then crack down on the homework,” I smiled. Kathy was a gorgeous woman with long brown hair, big brown eyes, and a body that was built to do some amazing things, or at least that’s what I imagined. The thought of her naked caused me to have to reach down and readjust myself. Her eyes followed and she gave me a seductive smile.

  “Too bad,” she said, laying a hand on my lower leg. “I was in the mood for some action this weekend. I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

  “Yeah, she really has been,” Jake echoed. He was an odd man whose kink was voyeurism, and it was the main reason I was hesitant to have sex with Kathy. He’d explained how the two of them would often have a marathon sex session as a result of how turned on he got by her having sex with another man. Despite the fact that I wasn’t judgmental about other peoples’ kinks, I couldn’t quite get past my own discomfort.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I said, only partly sorry. Sometimes the pressure was more than I cared for, so I was glad that I had Nina’s presence as an excuse. “Maybe next time.”

  “Oh, of course,” Kathy said. She grabbed Jake’s hand and walked back across the lawn, stopping to look over her shoulder and wink at me. As I watched her walk, I felt the familiar ache of desire but resisted the urge to adjust myself again. Instead, I waved at Kathy and flashed her a half grin before turning back to the task at hand.

  It took me an hour to trim the branches and clean up the mess I’d made, and by that time, Nina was up and moving around.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, you wanna get some breakfast in town?” I asked, as she sat at the counter drinking a cup of hot tea. She nodded but said nothing. Unlike me, she wasn’t a morning person, so I was used to her silence as she moved from sleep to wakefulness. I patted her shoulder and said, “I’m going to go grab a shower and get dressed. Can you be ready in a half hour?”

  She nodded again and stared into the her mug. I smiled and went to get ready. A half an hour later, I stood in the kitchen as my 16-year-old daughter came strolling out of her room with a serious look on her face as she stared at her phone.

  “Well, good morning, sunshine!” I said, as she entered the kitchen. “It’s good to see you back in the land of the living!”

  “Dad, please,” she said, rolling her eyes and tucking the phone into her back pocket.

  “What? Are you nixing all of the pet names I have for you?” I asked, as she walked across the room and stood on tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

  “In a word, yes,” she said, as she put out a hand to keep me at a distance. “No offense, Dad, but those names are so 7th grade. I’m 16 now.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, hanging my head in mock shame. “Your old man is no longer good enough to call you by your beloved childhood pet names. I guess I’ll just go sit out back and eat worms.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Dad,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “That’s not what I mean; I’m just saying. Can’t you treat me like a grown-up?”

  “Because you are one?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m not a baby anymore,” she said, as she tugged on her coat and looked at me expectantly. “Well? Are we going to go eat or what? I’m starving!”

  “Yes, madam,” I said, bowing as I pointed to the back door. “Your carriage and your servant await.”

  “You’re crazy; you know that, right?” she said in a testy tone as she breezed out the back door and headed for the truck.

  I drove us into town to the local diner we’d been having brunch at every Sunday since Remy and I divorced. The Sunny Side Up was a bright, cheerful place full of a mix of Waltham residents who were intent on filling up on the pancakes and waffles that the place was well-known for. Judy waved us toward our usual booth as I grabbed two rolls of silverware and a couple of menus. Nina shed her jacket and slid into the far side of the booth before taking a menu from me and quickly deciding on eggs, bacon, and waffles.

  “You sure you’re ordering enough food?” I asked. Remy had told me that Nina hadn’t been eating much at home during the week and that I should keep an eye out for any behaviors that might indicate she had an eating disorder. I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant or what I should be looking out for, but I did know that I needed to encourage her to eat.

  “Dad, why are you picking on me?” she asked, as she slid the menu to the end of the table and took a sip of water.

  “No, I’m dead serious,” I said. “Your mother said you’re not eating very well at home, so I’m supposed to fill you up while you’re here, I guess.”

  “I eat fine at home,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s just that Mom buys that gross organic stuff and I hate it, so I wait until I’m at school to eat real food. I’ve told her a hundred times I don’t want to eat quinoa or tofu or whatever crazy micro greens she’s bought this week, but she never listens.”

  “Ah, I see,” I nodded, hesitant to add any more to the pile of kindling that Nina was building under her mother. Remy and I might not have gotten along very well, but I wasn’t keen on waging war against her using our daughter as the ammunition. However, Remy had no reservations about it, and that often worried me.

  “Okay, well, if we need to go to the grocery store and stock up on regular supplies for you to take back to your mom’s, then we can do that this afternoon.”

  “Nah, it’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

  “Speaking of communication,” I said, just as Judy came to the table ready to take our order. We both ordered, and then I returned to my question, “Anything new on the boy front these days?”

  “Dad, you know I can’t talk to you about that stuff,” she said, shutting down the discussion.
>
  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s weird, that’s why,” she retorted. “Besides, do you want to talk to me about your love life and when you might consider dating again?”

  “Now see here, young lady,” I began.

  “See? You don’t want to talk about it either,” she said, in a tone that clearly drew the line. “You really need to get out and see someone, Dad. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy with a lot to offer, but you’re not getting any younger.”

  “Are you telling me I’ve got a shelf life at 38?” I laughed.

  “If the shelf life fits,” she shrugged. “Look, you and Mom have been divorced for more than two years, and she’s started dating again. Why can’t you?”

  “I don’t have time for it,” I said. “Plus, you know my schedule; most women aren’t willing to put up with my weird hours and lack of availability.”

  “Excuses, excuses,” she said. “If you found someone really interesting who shared your interests, you’d find a way to make it work. But to do that, you’ve got to get out in circulation!”

  “Message received, can we move on to another topic now?” I asked, as Judy brought out steaming plates of bacon and eggs with waffles on the side. She put down the butter and syrup, refilled my coffee cup, and asked if we needed anything else before moving away to attend to the next table.

  “How’d the game go yesterday?” Nina asked, with her mouth full of waffle.

  “We kicked the PD’s ass to the curb, as usual,” I said, cutting up my waffle and smothering it in syrup.

  “How’s Uncle Tony doing?”

  “He’s a major pain in the ass, as usual,” I laughed. “Maybe I’ll call and see if he wants to join us for pizza and beer tonight. He’s having a rough time at home right now.”

  “Maybe if he didn’t act like a 15-year-old boy he wouldn’t be,” Nina offered, as she dug into her eggs.