Red Hot Stakes: A Steamy Single Dad Romance

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by Madison, Mia




  Red Hot Stakes

  A Steamy Single Dad Romance

  Mia Madison

  Copyright © 2019 by Mia Madison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  1. Prologue

  2. Gabi

  3. Gabi

  4. Gabi

  5. Luke

  6. Gabi

  7. Gabi

  8. Luke

  9. Gabi

  10. Gabi

  11. Gabi

  12. Gabi

  13. Gabi

  14. Luke

  15. Gabi

  16. Gabi

  17. Gabi

  18. Gabi

  19. Gabi

  20. Luke

  21. Gabi

  22. Gabi

  23. Epilogue One

  24. Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  Also by Mia Madison

  1

  Prologue

  September

  “Oh my god, you’re kidding!” Sierra exclaimed, looking at her roommate in shock. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t know what to do… I was just so surprised,” Gabi said.

  She had returned home minutes earlier, pleased to find both roommates there. Earlier in the evening, she’d attended what she’d thought was a birthday party for eight-year-old twins she knew. Instead, it turned out to be a dinner for four: Gabi, the twins, and their father, Luke.

  “What did Luke say?” Kait asked, looking aghast at her friend.

  “He was shocked, too. I mean first of all, he was expecting the friend his kids invited to be a child, not someone like me. And then after the twins blew out the candles and said that their wish was for him to marry me so I could be their new mommy, we both were too stunned to say anything.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Sierra said. “If it had happened to me, I think I’d still be in shock an hour later. Thank god Ian doesn’t have kids.”

  “It’s not the them,” Gabi protested. “They’re great. But why on earth would they think I should be their mom? I’m only twenty-four.”

  “Don’t you bake them cookies all the time?” Sierra asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And don’t you hang out with them at the park, like, a lot? You probably see them more than their dad does,” Kait added.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “That’s what moms do. What happened to their actual mom?” Kait asked.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think the children have seen her in years. I didn’t want to ask directly though.” Gabi waved off Sierra’s offer of more wine as she sat on the sofa, her feet tucked up under her. Though she’d been stunned at the twins’ pronouncement at dinner, it hadn’t been enough to stop her from eating. She loved food—and had a few extra curves to show for it.

  “Tell us more about what happened after Thing One and Thing Two basically proposed to you on behalf of their dad,” Sierra said.

  Gabi frowned. “Don’t call them that—they’re good kids. They just sat there beaming at us while Luke and I looked at each other in astonishment. We were silent so long that Ava started to get upset, so then I got up and took the cake into the kitchen. I had this really fake cheerful voice as I told them I’d cut it into pieces for everyone.”

  “Did Luke come to help?” Kait asked.

  “No… he must’ve recovered enough to talk to the twins, because when I brought the first two pieces out, he was speaking with them quietly.”

  “Was he mad?” Sierra asked.

  “No! He seems like a good dad. Except the cake was store-bought. The meal, too. I saw the containers in the kitchen—it was takeout from a restaurant.”

  “All the more reason those kids need a mom,” Sierra said.

  “Don’t be sexist. Many men can cook—just not him,” Gabi protested.

  Kait plucked a butterscotch cookie off the coffee table as if to prove what she thought of Gabi’s cooking skills. “What does he do anyway?”

  “The twins told me a while back that he was a writer, but I looked up Luke Pearson, and I couldn’t find any books or articles under his name.”

  “When did you look him up?” Kait asked.

  “I excused myself to use the restroom halfway through the meal.” She broke into a reluctant grin. “Once I met him in person, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “He was that hot, huh? So what did you find out?” Sierra asked.

  “He used to be a professor at the university. The last mention of him there was five years ago.”

  “Maybe that’s when he became a single dad,” Kait mused.

  “Do you have a picture of him? I’ve always had a thing for professor types,” Sierra said. “Sometimes Ian and I like to role-play, and that’s one of the—”

  “Sierra! This is about Gabi and Luke, not you and your man,” Kait scolded.

  Gabi sighed. “There isn’t any Gabi and Luke. And he didn’t look like a professor to me. More like a movie star. He had these whiskey-colored eyes that seemed to see right through me. And he had this sexy stubble like he’d forgotten to shave for a few days. Oh, and he had just the tiniest bit of gray at his temples.”

  “He sounds hot,” Sierra said.

  “He is. And he’s tall, and gorgeous, and there’s no way he’d ever be interested in someone like me. Trust me when I saw he’s way out of my league.”

  Kait reached over and smacked Gabi’s knee. “Don’t say that. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “And yet, every man I’ve met in the past year has managed to resist me.”

  “That’s because they’re morons,” Sierra said loyally. “If this guy was a university professor, that means he’s smart.”

  “Yeah, even his kids know that you two are a good match. Give him a chance,” Kait added.

  “What chance? I only see his kids at the park. It’s not like I’m going to run into him there.”

  “Figure out a way, then. If you like this guy, find a way to see him again,” Kait said.

  Sierra spoke even as Gabi was shaking her head. “Six months ago, we sat right here in this very living room and made a pact.”

  “I know,” Gabi said. “How could I forget? It was Valentine’s Day.”

  “We promised to take chances this year. To put ourselves out there. To do our best to find someone and change our lives for the better,” Kait said.

  “And Kait and I both did that,” Sierra said.

  “I know you did, and I’m happy that you’ll both have someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with next year, but just because I shared a meal with a man doesn’t mean that kind of thing is going to happen to me this year. It’s not that easy.”

  “Who said it was easy?” Kait asked. “Do you remember how many obstacles there were between me and Tyler?”

  “Yeah, and I had to reach the lowest point of my life before I met Ian. It’s not easy, but you have to try.” Sierra topped off Gabi’s wine glass.

  Gabi shook her head and sipped her wine. “I don’t even know him.”

  Kait leaned over and took her hand while Sierra took her other one “Then I’d say that that’s your first step.”

  2

  Gabi

  Mo
ndays sucked—especially when I got up early, took a shower, got dressed… and then saw a message from the temp agency saying the job I’d worked at all last week didn’t need me this week. Couldn’t they have told me that on Friday?

  I slipped out of the house before Kait was ready to leave and before Sierra was even up. Though they were like sisters, I didn’t want to face them this morning. Eight months ago, we’d all three had crappy jobs. Now, they both worked at good companies with the men they were dating. If they knew I didn’t have any work for today, they’d pressure me to apply for a better job, and I couldn’t bear to tell them that I had been. Or at least I had been until recently.

  Applying for one low-paying job after another and rarely hearing anything back was one thing. But the worst part was that I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. Sierra had majored in communications and now she was working at Ian’s communications firm. And Kait was a computer programmer, as was Tyler, her boss and boyfriend.

  But me? I’d majored in English, the most generic major there was. And not because I had some great love of literature, though I did like to read. But I much preferred reading whatever I felt like on my Kindle rather than over-analyzing Shakespeare in a class. Truthfully, I’d chosen English just because I didn’t know what else to do.

  With a sigh, I climbed into my car, tucking a thermos of coffee in the cup holder and tossing a brown paper bag on the seat. The only thing worse than having a crappy, low-paying job was having to do the same mind-numbing thing every day. At least with the temp agency, I got a little variety. One week I’d do basic data entry at the HR department of a small corporation. Another week, I’d helped out at an alumni office during a fundraising drive.

  I didn’t know what my dream career was, but I knew that it wasn’t the jobs I’d been applying for—and failing to get. In the meantime, the variety of temp work suited me. The hours didn’t though. I was lucky if I got twenty-five hours a week. Last week had only been twenty.

  Despite the lack of hours, it was interesting to meet new people and do new things. And for some reason, I had this feeling that something special was on the horizon for me. That there was a job out there that was perfect for me—I just didn’t know what it was yet. Trying a lot of different jobs on a temporary basis seemed like a good way to go about finding it.

  Still, Kait and Sierra had a point. We’d made a pact to take chances, to reach for something better this year. They had, and it had paid off big time. Now it was my turn, and since my love life was rather nonexistent, it seemed smart to start with work.

  That’s why I pulled into the parking lot at the temp agency. I had to wait awhile to talk to Violet, the woman who’d hired me, but not too long. She probably remembered the baked goods I always brought her. Today, I had two blueberry scones for her.

  “Gabi, good to see you! Scones? You shouldn’t have. Did you make them?”

  “Yes.” Baking was my favorite thing to do in the world with eating being a close second.

  “I’m sorry the job fell through this morning,” Violet said, her eyes closing in bliss as she took a bite. That gave me a few moments to contemplate the physics that kept her white, beehive hairdo upright.

  “It happens.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping to try some other kinds of work.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well… I don’t know, really. I was an English major. My writing and communication skills are good. And I can cook and bake.”

  Violet smiled, gesturing to the scone. “I can certainly attest to that. But we don’t get many requests for that kind of worker. I’ll certainly keep you in mind if something comes up.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to figure out how to express my thoughts. “I just feel like I could be doing more. Like I could be more help to a company than I’m being now. It just feels like I haven’t figured out what kind of company needs my skills.”

  “You’ve gotten good reviews at every place you’ve worked,” Violet said. “I wish I had something like what you’re looking for.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “I guess if there’s nothing like that, then at least it’s fun to try different things. I feel like the right career is out there only I haven’t discovered what it is yet.”

  Violet beamed, the last bite of scone clutched in her fingers. “Then it sounds like temping is a good fit for you.”

  “I guess so.” I smiled at her—she really was a nice lady.

  She studied me for a moment. “Sometimes when you can’t find the one that’s right for you, you have to kind of make your own job. That’s what I did when I opened this agency. Could you perhaps open a bakery or something like that?”

  I pursed my lips as I thought about it. Kait and Sierra had suggested something like that before. It would take a lot of capital, that was for sure. And it would be a lot of work. Not that that was a problem. I was willing to work hard, but I also wanted fulfillment. To me, baking was an expression of love for my friends and family—not something I did to make a profit. “It’s an idea,” I finally told Violet. But I knew it wasn’t right for me.

  After I left the temp agency, I sat in my beat-up old Honda for a few minutes, contemplating my next move. If I could only figure out what job I wanted, then I could work towards getting it. But how did you work towards an unknown goal?

  With that question in mind, I headed to the library, determined to do some good old-fashioned research into career options. I spent a couple of hours online taking various personality tests that supposedly pointed you toward career options. And I hit the books, too. My time in the English department at college had at least taught me how to conduct research.

  But after a few hours—and a break for lunch—I still was no closer to a path forward.

  As I often did during times of uncertainty, I went home and headed to the kitchen. I’d done far too much deep thinking today—time to distract myself with something else. Therefore, I chose eclairs. The technique was complicated enough that it would keep my mind occupied.

  An hour and a half later, I had a box of six perfect eclairs all packed up and ready to go. I’d left a few for my roommates, and of course, I’d tried one myself. Baked goods often went straight to my hips, but how else was I going to know if it was good or not?

  After cleaning up the kitchen and changing shirts, I headed out, certain I knew two people who would enjoy the eclairs as much as I had.

  The twins were on the playground when I arrived, but as soon as I sat down on my favorite bench, they appeared.

  “Hi Gabi,” Ava said, a bit shyly which was unusual.

  Brandon wasn’t shy at all. “What’s in the box?”

  “See for yourselves,” I said, opening it.

  “Cool! Donuts!” Brandon helped himself to one.

  “Actually, they’re eclairs.”

  “They’re so good,” Ava said. Her light brown hair was in pigtails and there was already a smudge of chocolate on her nose. Absolutely adorable.

  “Who gets the other four?” Brandon asked.

  “Please take them home and give them to your dad for me, okay? It’s a thank you for dinner the other night.”

  “Sure,” Brandon said, but Ava looked guilty. “I’m gonna go play soccer with some kids from my class.” He darted away, pausing only when he remembered to thank me.

  For a moment, I frowned as he raced away. I wanted to question him, to ask him where exactly he was going. It was a big park with a playground, several fields, a wooded area, and a lake. But he wasn’t my charge. His father, Luke, trusted the twins to play here on their own and I should, too.

  Ava sat on the bench next to me, eating her eclair slowly with apparent appreciation. That pleased me.

  “He forgot,” she said, glancing in the direction her twin had disappeared.

  “Forgot what?”

  “Dad says we have to apologize to you.” Her little cheeks turned pink. “For what we said at our birthday. You know… t
hat we wanted you to be our mommy.”

  For a moment, I fought an urge to put my arm around her. She was the sweetest little girl I’d ever met. “Honey, you don’t have to apologize for that. Don’t you realize what a compliment that was? It’s an honor to know that you and Brandon like me.”

  “We do,” the little girl confirmed. “But Dad says we embarrassed you. You know—when Brandon said Dad should marry you.”

  Yeah, that had been embarrassing. Really embarrassing. But I knew that hadn’t been their intention. “You and Brandon were just looking out for your dad. Honestly, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” It was true that their words had made the rest of the dinner quite awkward, but I was an adult, as was Luke. We’d done our best to act normal.

  For a moment, I wondered what Luke had thought of the whole thing. He was older than me, at least in his mid-thirties. And he’d already been married once though I didn’t know where the twins’ mother was now. For all I knew, he could have a girlfriend, though the kids had never mentioned it.

  Maybe he didn’t have time as a single father? Because I was sure he could get a girlfriend if he wanted one. The man was handsome as hell. He was an ex-professor, I knew that much, and I could visualize him in a tweed jacket presiding over a class of students. But at dinner the other night, I’d also seen the way he moved around the kitchen and dining room. Despite his lack of cooking skills, he’d projected an air of confidence and competence—two things I rarely felt outside of the kitchen.

  I’d also seen muscles stretch under his sweater—I didn’t know what he did for a living now, but he was obviously strong and fit. After dinner, he’d picked Ava up and swung her around as if she weighed nothing, and she’d just turned eight.

 

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