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

by Claire Adams

“You sure changed your tune fast there, buddy,” I said, eyeing him suspiciously. “One minute you're all for it, and the next you’re telling me I’m a lucky guy. Which is it?”

  “Dunno, ask me again when the two of you patch things up,” Tony grinned, as we entered the station and found the guys gathered around the breakfast table as Cal dished up sausage and eggs. I quickly stored my gear and pulled up a seat at the table. As soon as he’d finished buttering the toast, Cal took a seat next to me and filled his plate.

  “Good eggs, man,” Tony said appreciatively, as the rest of the guys grunted in agreement.

  “Hey, Blake, was that Emily Fowler you brought to the party last weekend?” Cal asked, as he poured hot sauce on his eggs.

  “Yeah, why? You know her?” I mumbled with a full mouth.

  “No, but I know who her dad is,” he said, as he took a piece of toast and broke it in half.

  “Oh yeah, who?”

  “Her dad is William Fowler, the oil tycoon,” Cal said, as he spread jam on half of the toast and then began scooping up eggs with his fork and shoveling them into his mouth at an alarmingly rapid rate. “He’s got more money than God, or so I hear.”

  “Huh, is that so?” I said, as the wheels in my brain started spinning.

  “Oil tycoon?” Tony said, leaning across me to look at Cal. “A rich guy, you say?”

  “Yep,” Cal nodded. “Super rich. Didn’t she say anything about it?”

  “Nope, not a word,” I said, looking down at my plate as my appetite deserted me. I didn’t know what to do with this information, all I knew was that I missed Emily and I didn’t know how to get her back.

  “B, you need to get her back,” Tony whispered, as he nudged me with his elbow. “She’s an heiress or something!”

  “Shut the fuck up, Tony,” I muttered, as I picked up my plate and carried it to the sink where I dumped the remains of breakfast into the garbage and loaded the plate into the dishwasher.

  The alarm sounded before Tony could respond and as the voice came through the intercom, we rushed out to don our gear. I hauled myself up into the cab, giving Cal the once-over to make sure he was properly dressed. We pulled out of the station and headed toward the fire. I tried to get my brain focused on what I’d do once we got there, but I couldn’t get Emily out of my mind. I wanted to know why she hadn’t told me about her family and why she’d kicked us all out. Most of all, I wanted to know if she was missing me as much as I missed her.

  We pulled up to find the small house engulfed in flames, and two people, old enough to be my grandparents, shivering on the front sidewalk as they watched their home burn. The medics got them into the ambulance while the rest of us suited up to douse the flames.

  “Gaston, I want you, Tony, and the rookie to take the front door,” Chief said as I pulled my respiration over my head and grabbed the hose. “The house is a loss, so don’t be a hero.”

  I nodded as I looked around for Tony and Cal. Finding them, I motioned toward the front door and headed up the walk. I wondered what Emily was doing right at that moment. Was it time for Nina’s History class? I couldn’t remember. I felt someone tapping my shoulder.

  “B, what are you doing?” Tony shouted through his mask. “Where’s the ax?”

  I looked down and saw that I was holding only the hose. I shrugged and hollered, “Rookie! Go grab the ax out of the engine!”

  Tony shot me a look as Cal headed back to the truck to grab the ax. I pulled off a glove and put a hand on the front door to test for heat. The door was hot, and the knob was too hot to touch. Not a good sign. When Cal returned with the ax, I put a hand on one of the windows next to the door and said, “Bust the glass, but stay back!”

  Cal nodded and swung the ax. The sudden gush of air made the flames flare up.

  “GET BACK!” I yelled, as I shoved Tony and Cal off the porch and ducked. The sudden increase in heat caused the five small windows surrounding the door frame to explode, sending glass fragments flying. I waited a moment before lifting my head off of the porch. I called out, “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah, fine,” Tony replied, as he pulled Cal up off the ground and climbed back onto the porch. “You okay, man?”

  I nodded and grabbed the ax from Cal’s hand, swinging it back before bringing it down through the door. The wood splintered but remained intact as I pulled it out and took another swing. This time the door cracked, and when I wiggled the blade, the cheap wood split in two. Tony kicked the door into the house and aimed the hose at the front entry.

  It took an hour to put out the fire, and when we were done, the homeowners thanked us profusely. It felt surreal to have people whose lives had just been consumed by flame thanking us. Chief made sure they had the information they needed to get resources while the Red Cross volunteers took inventory of what their immediate needs were.

  “Damn, no matter how many times it happens, it always amazes me how quickly those folks get here!” Tony said, looking at the volunteer handing the couple a booklet of resources and a small amount of cash while the other one made hotel reservations for them.

  “Are they always that quick?” Cal asked, watching with awe.

  “Yep, that’s the power of having thousands of local volunteers in every community,” I nodded. “They always have someone ready to go. It’s pretty amazing when you think about it.”

  As we loaded up the engine for the trip home, Tony came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “You okay, B?” he asked quietly. “You don’t seem like you’re in the game today.”

  “I’m okay,” I replied. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, you’d better get some of it off your mind before Chief calls you to the carpet,” he said, adding, “Or someone gets hurt.”

  I stood by the side of the truck holding my helmet as Tony hauled himself back up into the cab, knowing I had to get Emily out of my head.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Emily

  The sun shone through the windows in my classroom on an unseasonably warm Friday afternoon in February as I handed back the graded tests to my sophomore History class. I praised them for their hard work and attempts at addressing the finer points of early 20th century immigration, and reminded the ones who hadn’t done as well that they still had several more chances to make up for less than stellar grades.

  “Nice work, Nina,” I said with a big smile, as I set her test down on her desk. She gave me a nervous look that quickly turned into a wide smile as she saw that the grade on the top of the page was an A.

  “Thank you, Ms. Fowler,” she said, smiling up at me.

  “Don’t thank me; you did the hard work!” I said, returning her smile. I handed out the rest of the papers and then went over the answers before the bell rang.

  Nina hung back as her friends headed to their next classes. Nervously, she approached my desk and said, “Ms. Fowler, I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay, what’s up?” I replied, looking up from the computer where I was pulling up a PowerPoint lecture for the next class.

  “Not now,” she said, looking toward the door and then back at me. “After school?”

  “Are you all right, Nina?” I asked, suddenly worried.

  “Yeah, fine,” she nodded. “I just need to talk to you in private.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait here for you after the last bell,” I agreed. She nodded, then turned and ran out the classroom door.

  I spent the last two periods of the school day worried that something was wrong with Nina. I had a sinking feeling that she was going to tell me she was pregnant and ask for help telling her parents. I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case, but I steeled myself just in case it was. I didn’t want to be judgmental, but I wasn’t at liberty to offer her any advice on how to deal with the situation outside of advising her to tell her parents.

  I was packing up my things and had all but given up on Nina showing up when she entered the classroom. She looked subdued and less than happy.
As much as I wanted to launch into a series of questions, I forced myself to hold back and wait for her to speak first.

  “Ms. Fowler, I feel like I have a problem,” she began nervously. “I want to be able to talk to my dad about it, but I don’t know how to start the conversation.”

  “Your dad’s a pretty straightforward person,” I said, hesitating a little. “It’s probably best just to approach him in a direct manner and say what’s on your mind. He loves you more than anything, and I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you about any problem you have.”

  “But see, that’s just it,” she said. “It’s not technically my problem.”

  “Oh, is that so?” I said, feeling my stomach begin to churn. Teenagers had a way of asking questions “for a friend” that made me wish I could free them from the shame and guilt they felt asking for themselves.

  “Yeah, it’s actually kind of his problem,” she continued, looking up at me before shifting her eyes back down to the floor and shuffling nervously. I waited, knowing that if I interrupted, she might get spooked and stop talking. When she looked back up at me, she said, “Look, my dad misses you. He’s old and stubborn, and he won’t talk about it with me, but I can tell that for the past month he’s been really lonely without you.”

  “Oh, I…well, it’s complicated,” I began, and then stopped. I had no idea what to say. I’d missed him terribly, but I had no idea how to approach the issue of my family with him. It felt too huge and overwhelming to have to explain the situation, and then to have to endure the humiliation of admitting that my family was the polar opposite of his, well, that felt like more than I could stand.

  “I know you might not want to hear this, maybe you moved on and have a new boyfriend,” she said quickly. “But I saw my parents together before the divorce, and my dad was never as happy with my mom as he was when I saw him with you. He was calmer. More patient. And since you’ve been gone, he’s just kind of shut down and gone back to being a grumpy old man. I know he misses you.”

  “I see,” I nodded, as I listened to her talk about the differences she’d seen over the past month.

  “I thought maybe if you could talk to him…” she trailed off before shrugging and saying, “Maybe you could talk some sense into him, you know? I mean, maybe he’d apologize for being a jerk, and you’d take him back.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from laughing at the idea that it was Blake’s fault we’d split up. If only Nina knew the truth, then she’d probably hate me, too.

  “Look, I know you’re sad about your dad and me, but I think he knows what’s best for him,” I explained. “I don’t think it’s right to blame him for everything, either. We are both adults.”

  “They why don’t you both act like it?” Nina blurted. “You guys are always telling us teenagers to be honest and talk things out. Why can’t you follow your own advice?”

  “Oh, Nina,” I said, chuckling as I rubbed my eyes. “Were it only that easy.”

  “It is,” she said, staring at me. “It is that easy. You just have to say what’s going on and then talk about how to fix it.”

  “Well, as much as I like the idea…” I began, as a knock on the classroom door interrupted the conversation. I looked up and called, “Come in!”

  The door opened and through it walked Blake. I looked at him and then back at Nina, who now had a satisfied grin on her face. I shot her a look before I smiled and said, “Hello, Mr. Gaston. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, Ms. Fowler; it’s good to see you, too,” he replied, giving Nina the same confused look that I had given her moments before. “Nina told me you wanted to see me about her grades.”

  “She did?” I said, looking back at Nina, who was slowly making her way to the door. “Wait a minute, young lady.”

  “Nope, I wanted you two to talk. Bye!” she chirped, before quickly yanking open the door and running out into the hall.

  Silence filled the room as Blake and I stared at the open door and empty hallway, listening to the sounds of footsteps growing fainter. I looked back at him and inhaled sharply. He was even more handsome than I remembered. His hair was a little longer and, as a result, the salt-and-pepper gray was a little more pronounced, but the five o’clock shadow made him look a little more tired than I remembered him being.

  I stood staring at him from across the room and couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Blake

  I wasn’t sure if Emily was mad at me or not, but by the look on her face, I could tell she was surprised that I was here. I stood awkwardly at the door waiting for a sign from her, and when I didn’t get one, I cleared my throat and walked across the room.

  “So, Nina tells me she’s failing History,” I said, feeling both angry and ashamed that my daughter was doing so poorly in Emily’s class.

  “What are you talking about?” Emily asked, looking more surprised than she had when I walked into the room. “She just got her exam back, and she got an A on it.”

  “You mean she’s not failing?” I asked.

  “She’s passing with flying colors,” Emily replied tersely. “I’m not sure why you’re here.”

  “I’m here because Nina…” I said, trailing off, as I realized that my daughter had set me up. I chuckled softly as I shook my head. “She’s a piece of work, that one.”

  “What do you mean?” Emily asked, giving me an irritated look.

  “I mean that she wanted you and me to get back together, so she engineered this whole thing,” I said. “For someone as smart as you are, you sure do miss the obvious.”

  “Oh, right,” she said, turning her gaze toward the window on the opposite side of the classroom. “Missing the obvious.”

  “Emily, why did you get so mad at me?” I blurted. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I wished I could haul them back and swallow them.

  “I…don’t know how to explain my family,” she said, shaking her head slowly. She avoided my gaze as she continued, “My parents aren’t bad people, but some of the things they do…”

  “It’s okay; you don’t have to explain. I get it; they’re your parents,” I said. “I just didn’t understand why you got mad at me.”

  “I was mad at the situation,” she sighed. “I was mad that you and my father were fighting. Mad that I felt like I had no say in the matter. Mad that you have perfectly wonderful parents who treat you like a person, not a possession.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unsure of what else I could say, and not willing to risk pushing her further away. “I’m just sorry, Emily.”

  “No, it’s not you,” she said, shaking her head as she covered her face with her hands. She cried, “I’m just tired of fighting them all the time. Nothing is ever good enough.”

  “Emily…” I said, as I moved around the desk and pulled her into my arms. I could feel her shaking in my arms as I held her tightly and gently rocked back and forth. “It’s okay. Shhh. It’s okay.”

  I could hear the second hand of the clock over the door ticking as I held Emily and waited for the sobs to subside. In a few minutes, she lifted her head and stared up at me with tear-stained cheeks.

  “I’ve tried to distance myself from them,” she said, forcing back a sob. “I don’t want their money or their things. I just want some peace in my life, you know?”

  Unsure of what to say, I simply nodded and waited for her to finish.

  “My family has a lot of money, and they use that money to get the things they want regardless of the cost,” she said. “There’s always a price to be paid with them, though. And you’re never free and clear. Never.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand what you’ve been through,” I said, as I held her and slowly ran my hand up and down her back trying to soothe her. “But I assure you that I definitely don’t have a normal family. They are as weird as a family can get.”

  “But they’re so nice!” she wailed, as she pressed her face against my chest and cried. �
��My family is not nice at all.”

  “Emily, listen to me,” I said, speaking softly as I rested my chin on the top of her head. “It’s not your fault you have a family that drives you crazy. It’s not your fault that your father insulted me. It’s not your responsibility to find a way to excuse your family’s behavior and live with it. The only responsibility you have is to be true to yourself.”

  “Thanks, Shakespeare,” she mumbled into my chest.

  “I’m serious,” I said, pulling back and tipping her chin up so that she was looking at me. “You are only responsible for you. End of story.”

  Emily nodded as her eyes filled with tears again. I leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead before pulling her back into my arms. I knew I’d missed her, but until this moment, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her. I heard the classroom door open behind me, and when I turned to see who it was, I saw Nina smiling and giving me two thumbs up. I shook my head, and she quietly closed the door leaving Emily and me alone again.

  “I’m a mess,” Emily said, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “I need to clean up and get out of this school.”

  “How about I take you out for a nice dinner and then you can go home and get a good night’s sleep,” I suggested, hoping that she would say yes to dinner, and trying to come up with an alternate plan in case she said no.

  “I don’t know,” she said, pulling away before starting to pack up her books and papers. “I should get home. I’ve got a lot of grading to do.”

  “It’s just dinner, Emily,” I said, frantically trying to think of a reason she couldn’t refuse. When I found it, I smiled, “I know that Nina would appreciate it if you were there to help celebrate her improved History grade.”

  “Oh my God, you’re going to use your daughter to blackmail me into having dinner with you?” Emily laughed.

  “Yep. I’m going to use every weapon in my arsenal to get you to have dinner with me,” I said with a grin.

  “Fine, I’ll have dinner with you two,” Emily smiled, as she finished packing up her things and grabbed her coat.