Not Her Daddy

by Darcy Dawes

  Not Her Daddy

  Darcy Dawes

  Copyright © 2019 by Darcy Dawes

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter One

  Daniel

  As I plucked out a silvery strand from the front of my hair, there was only one word that could quite describe my feelings about it.

  “Fuck.”

  It was the fourth one I’d found this week. In all my thirty-eight years on the planet I’d never been cursed with a single gray hair. In the past two months I’d found seventeen.

  Okay, there were seventeen I’d removed. The shorts sides of my hair were going gray, too, but they made me look…I don’t know. Refined. Interesting. More attractive, even.

  The grays up the top simply made me look tired and old before my time.

  Well, that’s what happens when a kid is sprung upon you, I suppose.

  Wyatt was a good kid. Not quite five yet. He looked like me. Or, rather, he looked like my old man. Every day I was reminded how glad I was that Wyatt didn’t look a thing like his own dead-beat dad, who would quite literally end up dead if I ever saw him again.

  He was my sister’s kid. My only sibling, and my twin. Sandy and I were close, but she had fallen on hard times. Not financially, just…mentally. Again, her dead-beat ex was to thank for that. For her to get the help she needed meant her losing custody of Wyatt in order to do so. Our parents were too old to look after a kid for however long it would take for Sandy to recover, after all.

  But I couldn’t bear that. There was no way I’d let my nephew be thrown into a social care system that didn’t give a damn about him. So I took custody of him, though I knew fuck all about taking care of a kid and my job as a publishing executive is demanding. It was far better than the alternative, though, and I was convinced all my sister needed was a few months—the summer—to piece herself back together.

  I never knew a summer could feel so long and exhausting…and it was only May. It wasn’t even officially summer, though the days were hot and balmy already.

  When Wyatt’s pre-school recommended a nanny to help me out over the summer I took it as an insult. Were they suggesting I couldn’t look after my own nephew? It had irritated me.

  One day of juggling a five-year-old with no babysitter and a full-time job was all it took for me to see the light. I’d hired the live-in nanny recommended to me with no questions asked. She would only be living in the house over summer, after all. No time at all.

  Her name was Natalie. Nineteen. A college student looking for extra cash to help her pay next year’s tuition fees. Excellent background with looking after kids. Clearly a good girl. To be honest, at this point she could be an atrocious human-being when it came to everything but childcare and I’d still view her as an angel.

  She was due any moment now and, for some reason, my heart was pounding. I was full of nerves. It wasn’t like me—my job was high-stress and involved lots of public speaking and talking to people I’d never met. Natalie was a college kid. Almost twenty years my junior. What was so intimidating about that?

  Sighing to my graying reflection, I resolved to pull myself together. So I was getting old. So what? Most of my hair was still dark brown. My face wasn’t all that lined yet, apart from a few around my eyes that apparently added ‘character’ (or so said my sister). I was tall. I kept in shape. Women liked my beard and tatts. I certainly looked a lot better than I did at nineteen, when I had a questionable nineties haircut and overly baggy pants.

  Now I largely wore perfectly tailored suits, which suited me just fine. Not that I was wearing one right now, of course—it was Saturday and it was warm. But I didn’t want to give off the wrong impression to Natalie, so I put on a pair of tan linen pants and a navy polo shirt. I hoped it made me look like a respectable dad.

  Even though I wasn’t one. Well, a dad, at least. As a publishing executive at a successful publishing house I could probably be considered respectable.

  “Uncle Dan, a lady is at the door!”

  I jolted in surprise. I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring, nor had there been a knock on the door. I glanced behind me, trying to see my nephew, but he was out of sight.

  “How do you know that, Wyatt?” I called out, rinsing my face with water very quickly before drying off and leaving the bathroom.

  “I saw her through the window and let her in,” Wyatt said, running to meet me while pointing at the woman in question who was, indeed, already standing in the hallway. I ruffled his hair fondly, making a mental note that I really had to teach him about stranger danger, before stopping right in my tracks as I looked at the woman properly.

  Wyatt grasped hold of my leg with his stubby fingers, pretending to be shy when he patently wasn’t, given he’d let a stranger into the house. To be honest, though, if every stranger looked like the woman in my hallway then I’d let them in without thinking.

  She was beautiful. There was no other word for it. She was maybe just above average height and fit the phrase ‘curves in all the right places’ so perfectly I almost felt as if I hadn’t seen an attractive woman in my life before now. Her hair was long and straight; I was fairly certain the color of it could be described as “ash brown”. A delicate spray of freckles crossed her face, and her eyes were so pale they were almost gray.

  Like my hair, I thought fleetingly as I desperately tried to hide the fact I was staring. But then a bright, nervous smile transformed the woman’s face, and I forgot how to speak altogether. I was completely and utterly transfixed.

  I must have looked a fucking idiot, standing there and saying nothing.

  “Um, are you Mr. Farthing?” the woman asked, a little uncertainly.

  It took me a moment to collect myself. “Ah—yes, that’s me,” I stuttered, jerking forward as though being pulled by a cord. Wyatt came along with me, still attached to my leg. “Call me Daniel. Or Dan. I don’t mind.”

  Her nose wrinkled up adorably as she chuckled. “Daniel, then. I’m Natalie Jones, the nanny little Wyatt’s pre-school recommended.”

  She held out a hand. I shook it far too enthusiastically, hating myself all the while. I felt like my cheeks were on fire.

  Natalie bent down slightly once I pulled away, hands on her knees as she stared at Wyatt. “So the young man who so kindly let me in must be Wyatt Farthing! He’s your nephew, I heard?”

  “You heard correctly,” I said, gulping slightly as I tried—and failed—to stop myself staring down the top of Natalie’s flowery sundress as she bent down further to try and tease Wyatt away from my leg. He giggled when she reached over and tickled under his chin.

  “I heard your momma’s in hospital, Wyatt,” she said softly.

  My nephew stared up at her with his big eyes, which were the same exact shade of green as mine. “She’s sick.”

  My stomach twisted hearing that. It was all Wyatt could understand, that Sandy was sick. It didn’t help anyone trying to explain to five-year-old why his mother couldn’t find it in herself to get out of bed in the morning.

  Natalie smiled at him. “Aw, I’m sure she’ll get better super soon. We’ll just have to have lots and lots of fun this summer and time will fly by
!”

  Wyatt’s eyes lit up at the word ‘fun’. He let go of my leg and any semblance of being shy and grabbed Natalie’s hand.

  “Want to draw? I like dragons. All my drawings are dragons. I’m the best at drawing them.”

  “That sounds amazing, Wyatt! Just give me a few minutes to talk to Uncle Daniel, okay?”

  “Okay!” Wyatt said excitedly. “I’ll get out all my crayons.” And then he was off up the stairs, crawling up them on all fours in his haste to reach his bedroom.

  Natalie turned to me. “Is it okay if I go and get my bags from my car and then you can show me to my room?”

  I thought the interaction between her and Freddie would have given me an opportunity to collect my thoughts…it hadn’t. And they were all firmly in the gutter.

  She’s twenty years younger than you and your nephew’s new live-in nanny, Daniel. Get it together.

  And then it truly hit me for the first time.

  Live-in.

  I was going to be around this impossibly beautiful, sunny young woman all summer.

  The same word I’d uttered as I plucked out gray hairs mere minutes ago flashed through my mind now.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Two

  Natalie

  When I accepted the summer live-in nanny job from the pre-school close to my college I never imagined the kid’s dad—or, rather, uncle—would be so handsome.

  No, that wasn’t strong enough. He was drop-dead, unbelievably gorgeous.

  Daniel Farthing was tall and well built in a way that looked effortless—like he could run a 10K without so much as breaking a sweat. He had shockingly green eyes framed by heavy brows. He had cheekbones to die for and that beard and tattoo combo that was so fashionable at the moment—and yet didn’t seem like a conscious choice. His dark hair was peppered with white on the sides which I found…unnervingly attractive.

  All in all, I felt entirely inept by comparison. My new employer was well-dressed, distinguished, hot as high hell—and he hadn’t even said anything yet. But when he finally did speak, his voice sounded altogether rather British. Listening carefully I realized his nephew, Wyatt, spoke with a similar accent.

  So hot, charming and British? I thought as I escaped outside after greeting both Daniel and Wyatt in order to get my bags out of my rundown, beaten Ford Fiesta. I’d grinned foolishly all the way through our conversation and fallen back on talking directly to Wyatt instead of Daniel, I’d been so nervous. And I was supposed to live with the guy for three months?

  This job was gonna be so much harder than I thought.

  “Let me help you with those,” Daniel said from behind me as I struggled taking them out of the trunk, making me jump. When I turned around he was achingly close to me.

  “I—um, I’m okay!” I sputtered, the confident, sunny façade I’d had on in the house mere moments ago dissipating immediately due to his proximity.

  Get it together, Nat! This is a job!

  Daniel smiled; it was luminous. He took most of the bags off my arms. “I insist. What would it look like if I let you carry all these while I held nothing?”

  And so, just like that, he swept back up the driveway into his house, me following meekly behind as he closed the door behind us with a kick of his foot and traversed up the stairway to what would be my bedroom for the summer.

  I clutched one my bags to my chest as if it could hide my throbbing heart and rosy cheeks. When Daniel showed me into the bedroom I stumbled, only making me feel even more nervous. I didn’t look at him as I dropped my bags onto the bed and he did the same.

  “This is…really nice,” I said truthfully. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”

  Great. What a loaded question.

  To my side, Daniel chuckled. With his accent it was unbearable. “Of course! You’re here to help me out with Wyatt—the least you deserve is a nice bedroom. Are you from around here, Natalie?”

  “My mom and brother live a few hours away, but my college is close by. You’re not from around here, are you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Daniel seemed puzzled by the question. He was silent long enough for me to look at him once more and immediately regretted it—his eyes were on me, and he had the strangest look on his face. It felt like he was watching my every move.

  It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

  Then realization dawned on him. “Oh, do you mean because of my accent?” Daniel laughed easily. “My old man’s English—a Londoner through and through—but my mom’s from around here. My sister and I lived in England when we were teenagers but we both moved back for college.”

  “Ahh, so Wyatt picked up the accent from his mom?”

  “My sister Sandy, yeah.”

  There was an awkward pause. I didn’t know whether I was allowed to ask about what was going on with his sister. Other than being told she was sick I had no more information to work from. I fingered the bottom of my hair, twirling it round my fingers a few times while being painfully aware that Daniel was watching me.

  I couldn’t take it. I was standing in a bedroom with my achingly hot employer who was definitely old enough to be my dad. I’d never been attracted to older guys in real life before—it was easily to fall for forty-something actors because they all looked amazing. I’d just never figured I’d meet a man in real life who was on the same level as them.

  Better, even, I thought. I can actually touch this guy instead of watch him on a screen.

  “What are you looking at?” Daniel asked, a slight smirk crossing his lips as if he knew exactly what I was looking at.

  “N-nothing!” I blushed furiously. “I just…if you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Farthing—”

  “Daniel.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Daniel,” I said again, struggling not to stammer over his name, “how old are you? You don’t have any kids of your own, do you?”

  He shook his head. “No kids. No wife. No significant other to speak of.” There was that smirk again. “And I’ll be thirty-nine in two months. Why? Do I look much older than that?”

  I stared at him, horrified. Had I just offended him? Did he think me a precocious brat asking such invasive questions? “No, of course not!” I babbled. “You look…your age? Ah, I don’t know what thirty-eight looks like, really, other than you, so…”

  I trailed off. I had nothing else to say, after all, and I was making a fool of myself.

  Daniel scratched the end of his nose as if he didn’t know what to say.

  I’ve totally ruined it, I thought miserably. He thinks I’m an idiot. I am an idiot. A stupid, babbling idiot.

  “You said your mom and brother live a few hours away,” Daniel said eventually, surprising me out of my head. “What about your dad?”

  “Oh.” I looked away. “He’s…out of the picture. Since I was a baby. He was a good-for-nothing, or so Mom says.”

  “No father figure? No step-dad?”

  “Um…no. Not really. Mom is kind of dating someone, but I’m a bit old for a father figure now, aren’t I?”

  Something flashed across Daniel’s face. I wasn’t sure what. But it caused a small smile to curl my lips even as I felt my cheeks flaming hotter than before.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  When Daniel took a step towards me, I swear I stopped breathing. What was he planning on doing? Was he going to touch me? Was he going to kiss me? Holy shit, I definitely wanted him to kiss me. But that would be impossible; we’d only just met and—

  He chuckled. “Are you a mile-a-minute thinker, Natalie?” he asked mirthfully. “I can see your brain working overtime inside your very pretty head.”

  Oh.

  “I—yes,” I replied, replaying the words pretty little head over and over again as I spoke. “I’ve always been like that. I talk too much, too. I never grew out of it. I—”

  “Shhh,” Daniel said, holding a finger to his lips that I wished was on mine. “If you tell me everything in one go then
there won’t be any secrets left to uncover later.”

  I didn’t know if I was supposed to be taking Daniel’s comments the way I was taking them, but I didn’t care.

  “You work at a publishing company, Daniel?” I asked politely, steering the conversation away from possible innuendo like my life depended on it.

  He nodded. “It’s my father’s company, actually. I’m one of the executives.”

  It felt like a lightbulb moment. “You’re Daniel Farthing of Farthing Publishing?!”

  “In the flesh,” he smiled, dipping into a somewhat sardonic bow as he did so.

  “Wow. Wow. I can’t believe the penny didn’t drop—”

  “The penny farthing?”

  I snorted in laughter; I was sure it wasn’t flattering. “How often do you make that joke?”

  Daniel grimaced. “Too often. I hate my surname.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I got picked on a lot,” he admitted easily. “It’s such a stupid name. And of course, my family is pretty wealthy, so kids at school thought it hilarious that my name was a rather low denomination of coin.”

  “Oh, it must be so hard to rich,” I bit out, unable to stop the comment before it came spilling out of my mouth. I raised a hand up to my mouth in horror. “I’m sorry, that was—”

  “A very reasonable thing to say. And you’re right,” Daniel said soothingly. “Only the truly privileged can say that the worst thing about growing up was people picking on them for their surname. So tell me, what’re you doing working as a nanny at your age? Nineteen, was it?”

  The way he asked the question made me think he very much knew the answer. I nodded. “I need the money to help with college. My mom isn’t super well off so I didn’t want her worrying over my tuition.”

  My brother had recently gone through another round of chemotherapy for his leukemia, which had recurred for a second time, and that had wiped the family out financially, but I wasn’t about to lay my sob story at Daniel Farthing’s feet.

  “You’re a good girl, Natalie,” Daniel said. It made my insides squirm pleasantly to hear him say such a thing. He smiled, waving a hand back towards the door. “We probably shouldn’t leave Wyatt waiting. I bet he’s dying to show you his dinosaur drawings.”