The Woodsman's Nanny - A Single Daddy Romance

by Emerson Rose

  He slides his hands around my waist and pulls me to him burying his face in my belly holding me so tight it hurts, but I don’t mind. “I wasn’t a good father today. I was a jerk-off, pompous ass, dickwad.”

  I kiss the top of his head. “Yes, you were.”

  “She hates me now, doesn’t she? She should if she doesn’t.”

  “Of course not. We talked, she knows you’re hurting, but you’re going to have to apologize. She’s expecting it.”

  He leans away from me still keeping his hands on my hips. “Thank you for protecting her. It killed me when I saw what I’d done to her.”

  “She was shaken up, but her love for you is fierce. It’s going to take a lot more than a scary rock song to push her away.”

  “What about you? Did I scare you, too?”

  “A little. Most of all you pissed me off.”

  “You should be angry with me. My behavior was inexcusable.”

  “Yes, it was. But I know where it’s coming from, and she doesn’t.”

  “I’ll go talk to her now.”

  “She’s asleep.”

  “Come inside with me. I want to show you something.”

  He stands taking my hand to lead me back to his house.

  “When you first got here I moved the things out of my music room that might have given me away as Apollo. I put those things in here,” he says opening the door to a room I’ve never noticed at the end of the hall upstairs.

  Inside is a spare bedroom filled with posters, special signed guitars, t-shirts encased in glass, gold Grammy trophies, multiple Moonman MTV Music Award trophies, American Music Award trophies, countless RIAA platinum and gold certificates propped against every available surface. The amount of recognition in this room is shrine-worthy and awe-inspiring.

  He stands at the door holding it open but not entering. “You’re an amazing musician. Clearly, you can see that with all of this validation, can’t you?”

  “That’s just it, this is the world’s validation of my musical talent. But what I sacrificed for this room full of glass and metal trophies isn’t worth any of it.”

  “Being a successful and talented musician didn’t kill your wife. A rare pregnancy complication did that, something that was out of your hands. You need to separate those things in your mind. If you don’t, you’ll deprive the world of your music and yourself the experience of making it. Music is a part of you just like your arm or your leg. Cut it off, and you’re not whole anymore, Gage.”

  He slumps against the door, and I examine his expression. He’s hard to read at times and transparent at others. Right now, he looks defeated and worn down.

  I step into the room and pick up a Grammy Award. The golden gramophone is so shiny I can see my reflection in it. The base of the award reads ‘Best Rock Vocal Performance by a Group with Vocal for Massive Love.’ Another is for Album of the Year for the album from which Massive Love came from. That album was titled Constant.

  “I can’t believe this. I never dreamed I would meet someone who had one of these and you have…” I look around to count.

  “Five,” he says interrupting my count. “They were all for songs on Constant.”

  “Constant. That sounds a lot like Constance. Is that a coincidence?”

  “Nope. Everything she touched was gold, just like that trophy, except me.”

  I roll my eyes. “For a smart guy, you can be pretty stupid, you know that?”

  “What?”

  “You wrote that album for her, and she may have been your muse and your inspiration, but you possessed the talent to turn it into something the rest of the world loved. That was all you.”

  He reaches out toward me, and I walk to him setting the Grammy down as I go. He takes me in his arms and holds me while he looks over his amazing accomplishments. “You might be right about that, but I like my life now the way it is. I don’t want to go back.”

  I take a step away from him. “Adley is growing up. It’s not my place to say, but I’m going to anyway. I think you should consider the fact that she might need more than virtual friends and a house on a mountain. Maybe you should ease yourself back into the real world slowly. Contact some people, your mother for starters, let them know what happened and ask for forgiveness. If you don’t, you’ll be asking your daughter to keep secrets for the rest of her life. I don’t think you want to do that.”

  “I don’t, you’re right. I hate asking her to lie for me, and I’m afraid she thinks our living in seclusion is her fault. I don’t ever want her to think she was the reason her mother died and my music career ended.”

  “Do you think she does?”

  “I don’t know. The other day when she asked you not to be angry with me, I considered it.”

  “She’s too young to put all that together.”

  “You’d be surprised what she can put together. She knows you’re afraid of fire and, she knows it’s not a minor thing. She mentioned it a few days ago.”

  “She did? What did she say?”

  “She said that I should cook on the stove because you have a obia.”

  “A what?”

  “A phobia, but she thought it was pronounced obia. I didn’t even know she knew what a phobia was.”

  “Wow, I’m that transparent?”

  “Or she’s just that perceptive.”

  “You have successfully steered this conversation down a different path. We started out talking about your music career. You said you don’t want to go back, and I understand that, but what about doing something different?”

  “I thought you said I successfully steered the conversation down a different path.”

  “You did, and now I’m going to do it, too.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you mean different?”

  “Let’s go sit down.”

  “Uh oh, whenever someone says let’s sit down, it’s bad news.”

  “That’s not true.” I take his hand and lead him into the living room.

  It’s darker in here now. The clouds have chased the sun away, and it looks like it might snow. It’s Friday, and I’m supposed to spend the weekend with Freda. It will be my first weekend away from Gage and Adley since I got here, and I’ve been apprehensive about it all week.

  It’s not that I don’t want to see Freda and my friends. I miss hanging out and having drinks at the bar down the street from our apartment, but I want to be here more.

  Being with the two of them is like being an important part of a real family, and it’s addictive. Not to mention I keep hoping one of these nights Gage will come into my bedroom and ravish me. If I leave, will we lose what small amount of momentum we’ve built up? I don’t want to find out.

  Freda, on the other hand, has threatened to hike up the mountain and wander around aimlessly until she finds me or until she dies trying. My bet is she’d die trying, so I promised I’d go.

  “Looks like snow. You should probably stay here this weekend.” He sits on the couch, and I sit next to him but not too close. I want to talk, and he doesn’t which means inevitably we will end up kissing. Not that I’m complaining, but I’m excited to tell him my idea.

  “I would if I weren’t positive Freda would be climbing the mountain in a snowstorm with a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a shot glass in the other yelling my name.”

  “She wouldn’t make it far.”

  “You underestimate the power of Freda. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Okay, let’s not waste what time we have left before you leave then.” He scoots closer, and I back away.

  “Not until we talk about your music career.” His face clouds, and he leans away.

  “I have no music career, and I don’t want one.”

  “There are other ways to be a musician than touring all over the world drinking yourself into oblivion and doing drugs. You can write and record from right here, you can even do it anonymously if you want to on YouTube. We set up a channel, and you play with your back to the camera
or behind a screen or something and see what happens. We can do it all under my name so that no one suspects.”

  “YouTube? You want me to go online and sing like a teenybopper wannabe pop star?”

  “Hey, a lot of very famous singers got their start on YouTube, buddy. Don’t knock it till you try it. It’s the perfect solution. You get to express yourself through music and share it with the world and keep your private life private.”

  “Somebody will figure it out eventually. It’s not like I have an average voice.”

  This is true. His low, gravelly voice could be recognized. “So what if they do? They still don’t know where you are or where you’re recording. We can set up in the music room and steer clear of the window.”

  “You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. Why haven’t you? Adley is on YouTube watching your old concerts, surely you thought about recording something and putting it out there.”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I came along then, isn’t it?”

  He tips his head back resting it on the couch. “I know you’re trying to help, but it sounds risky.”

  I throw up my hands and let them fall slapping on my thighs. “Of course, it’s risky, that’s living! You’re up here hiding and wasting your God-given talent, for what?”

  “Privacy. Peace. To be one with nature. Independence. Clean air and water…”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re a tree hugger but recording anonymously won’t take any of that away.”

  “What happens when record labels start to ask about me? Or when fans want to start sending things? Or when people ask where can I get your album or when are you going to sing in public? What then?”

  “You can worry about that when it happens. Or…” I hold up my finger when he starts to interrupt me. “Or you ignore them and say you’re only interested in sharing your music this way on YouTube with no face.”

  “People will figure out it’s me.”

  “Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. The power is in your hands. They only get as much as you decide to give, no more, no less. Please say you’ll think about it. Don’t say no right away.”

  “I’ll think about it. Let’s make out now.”

  I shake my head. “Always with the one-track mind.” He reaches over and yanks me onto his lap straddling his powerful thighs. I laugh, and he sweeps my hair behind my shoulders. “You’re right, it’s one track, and I go around and around chasing you on it all day and night.”

  I push some stray hair that has fallen out of his ponytail away from his face and look into his eyes. “When are you gonna catch me?”

  Sitting up, he scoots to the edge of the couch, and I can feel his thick erection through his jeans pressing against my core. My belly feels like I just went over the top of a rollercoaster, and I’m plunging straight down.

  His mouth covers mine in a mind-blowing, toe-curling, kiss full of tongue and teeth and nipping and sucking. I want him to pick me up and take me upstairs to his bed, but the sound of Adley flushing the toilet upstairs brings me back to reality.

  I pull away, something that takes herculean strength and willpower to do and brace my hands on his broad shoulders. Breathless I plead my case. “I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do, and Adley will be down here any minute so you should probably let go of me and let me sit on the couch.”

  “No more secrets remember? She knows we kiss anyway, she said so.”

  I wiggle my hips a little nudging my sex against his cock. “This is a little more than kissing, and if she’s as perceptive as you say, she’ll know it.”

  He wrinkles up his top lip. “True. When you come back, I want to sleep with you.”

  Did he just ask me what I think he asked me? “What?”

  “I want to make love to you. I know I’ve been giving you mixed signals. It hasn’t been because I don’t want to be with you, though.”

  “Why then?”

  “I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his hair starting at his forehead pulling it when his hand reaches his ponytail.

  “Yes, you do. Tell me.”

  He sighs and looks to his right out the window. “I let the only woman I ever cared about down when she needed me the most. I don’t want to do it again. I don’t want to lose you, Clover. You wandered into our lives and infused them with color and joy. We merely existed before you, and I’m scared you’ll disappear.”

  I place my palm on his cheek and move his gaze back to me. I feel the corners of my mouth turn up in a smile as I look down on this big, strong mountain man with a soft, vulnerable heart. “I’m not going to disappear. I might wander down the mountain from time to time, but I’ll always come back.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” I kiss his pouty lips softly and climb off his lap just in time. Adley emerges from her bedroom dressed in a snowsuit and boots.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” I call up to her.

  “It’s snowing. I’m going skiing!”

  I look down at Gage. “You ski?” he asks.

  “I majored in adventure education, what do you think?”

  He shrugs holding out his hands, palms up. “Honey, I have no clue what that means.”

  I laugh. “It means yes.”

  9

  Gage

  Outside the three of us make our way to a clearing made for local skiers to go down the mountain. It’s not a commercial ski slope with a lift but more of an ungroomed natural parting of the trees for anyone who wants to get down the mountain on skis.

  “This is it?” Clover asks raising her eyebrows.

  “Yep, it’s not fancy, but it does the trick.”

  “How do we get back up?”

  “Sometimes we ski for a while and then hike the rest of the way, or we ditch the skis at Jerry’s and take an ATV.”

  “I hope you’re taking an ATV today. It looks like the storm is close.” She looks up into the gray sky shielding her eyes.

  “Yep, Jerry’s fueling them up as we speak.”

  “Them?”

  “I had him get two in case you change your mind about going to Freda’s when we get down there.”

  “You’re leaving?” Adley says, surprise in her voice.

  “Only for the weekend. My best friend, Freda, misses me, and she wants me to visit for a couple of days. I’ll be back Monday morning bright and early, I promise.”

  Her face clouds like the sky overhead, and I feel guilty for being glad she’s so disappointed. Maybe Adley can convince her to stay.

  “Oh. I’m going to miss you, too. Can’t Freda come and stay with us instead?”

  I was afraid she might ask that. “I think the girls want to go and do grown-up things with their friends for a while. Clover will be back as soon as she can. We can do whatever you want this weekend while she’s gone. I’m all yours.”

  She wrinkles her nose, and I chuckle. It doesn’t even hurt my feelings that she would prefer Clover to me. Who could blame her?

  The first fat snowflakes begin to fall as indecision settles on Clover’s face. She’s rethinking her plans, and I am considering a pony as a gift for Adley’s next birthday.

  “How about I wait and go tomorrow night and come home Sunday evening instead of going for the whole weekend?”

  “Yes!” Adley cries, and mentally I give a big fat fist pump. We just gained a night with her, and if the snow is bad enough, she won’t be able to get out tomorrow night either. I know I’m being greedy with her time, but I don’t care. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for six years for her to arrive, and now that she has, I don’t want to share her with anyone except Adley.

  “Now that that is settled, let’s ski.” I lower my goggles over my eyes and dig my poles into the snow. They both do the same, and we’re off swooshing down the trail with the snow in our faces and the wind in our hair.

  I don’t let go and barrel down the mountain
like I do when I’m alone. Adley is an excellent skier, but she is still only six years old, her weight alone can’t propel her down the hills, she has to work for it and has to go slow.

  I look over and see Clover smiling as she keeps pace with us loving the outdoors as much as I do. I can’t imagine going back to the concrete jungle to record albums, but I have to admit Clover’s idea of secretly recording on YouTube is intriguing.

  I’m surprised she put that much thought into my music. It’s like having my own cheerleader rooting for me. The first two years without music was easy. I had another human being who depended on me for every single thing in her life. But the older she got, the more independent she became, and the more I missed making music.

  When we arrive at Jerry’s, he is outside talking to a guy in an old truck. He waves, and I wave back. The snow is coming down hard now, and I’m wondering if we should have stayed home. Taking ATVs home now is going to be messy if we don’t leave right away, and I had planned on taking Adley to a little jewelry store to let her pick out something for Clover as a thank you gift for being her nanny.

  “I think we should get back. It feels like this storm is going to be a big one,” Clover says as if she read my mind.

  “I was thinking the same thing. Do you want to call Freda and tell her you’ll be back tomorrow?”

  She looks around Jerry’s small parking lot. “I might ask for a raincheck. I don’t know why, but something feels off about this storm. I think I should stay with you and go next weekend.”

  “You won’t get any arguments from me. Let’s run inside and grab a few things and head back.”

  “Daddy, I wanted to… you know…” Adley says referring to the jewelry store visit.

  “We can do it another day this week, baby. We don’t want to get stuck in the snow trying to get home.”

  Clover looks curious but doesn’t say anything. Inside, Clover waits by the door calling her friend Freda while I grab a few staples that we are running low on along with extra batteries and a new flashlight in case of a power outage.