Hook Up Daddy (A Single Dad Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  He smiled as we stopped right in front of a sand castle. It was built 3 feet high, and the water that brushed onto the shore stopped just feet from it. He kneeled and patted the castle as I looked out to the shore as far as my eyes could see. Once I glanced down again, Ezra had made a dent in the castle. “Ezra! Why are you messing up some kid’s sand castle! That is so rude!”

  “I was trying to fix it. I guess I pressed it too hard. Can you help me?”

  I kneeled beside him and grabbed sand from the side to reconstruct the small building. Suddenly, I saw a black case buried in the mound of sand that had crashed on the side of the castle. “Ezra, what is that?” I asked, leaning in closer to it.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see it there before.”

  When I reached for it, I saw that it was a small, black box, and as I held it in my hand, my heart felt as if it had stopped beating. I looked at Ezra as he kneeled beside me. I shook my head as tears rushed to the bottom of my eyes and everything around me grew silent. “Hannah, baby, I’ve known from day one that you were the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, and there wasn’t a time that I ever doubted it. You are my life, and I don’t know how I made it as far in my life as I did without you, but I don’t want to have to find out. You are a part of the puzzle that I’ve been missing and I–”

  “Ezra, just ask me, damn it! I’ve been waiting three years for this!” I said as tears flowed from my eyes in rivers.

  He smirked. “Will you... stop rushing me!”

  “Ezra!”

  “Baby, will you marry me?”

  I lunged into his arms, then demanded him to put the ring on my finger. “What took you so long to ask me, Ezra? You make me sick!”

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  BLIND LOVE

  By Naomi Niles and Erin Wes

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Erin Wes

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  Dylan

  “Why are these houses so far apart?”

  I sighed. If I was going to find the right car to steal, I knew I had to find the right house. So far, no one had left the keys in the car. Maybe rich people never did that. Poor people did because they didn’t expect anyone to take their crappy cars.

  Needing a new computer and with my mother getting fired once again, I knew that I had to take desperate measures. With a new computer, I could do my programming homework at home instead of school. The computers at school were crappy, and I could never get enough time on them in class.

  I spied a Mercedes. That could get a good price. My cousin boosted cars and he’d shown me where I could sell it to get cash. That would be one sweet computer.

  My stomach rumbled. Right. I hadn’t had dinner and the low income lunch had been hours ago. The night was turning chilly, and I needed to get this done. I hadn’t brought a jacket because I had no idea where it was. Knowing my mother, she sold it.

  I looked around. No one on the street. Being twilight, everyone was probably having dinner. Something I might have to skip tonight – unless I found some ketchup packets in the refrigerator.

  I sighed. This life sucks and with that computer, I can make a better one. I didn’t feel bad for stealing the car because they had insurance. They could buy another one.

  I thanked my luck that the car was in the driveway instead of the garage. A silver Mercedes E-class. I’d bet it had all the bells and whistles. It would be a sweet ride to the chop shop. The porch light on the McMansion turned on, so I froze standing behind a tree. There was a light on in a front window, but I couldn’t see anyone in the room. No one came out of the house.

  I stalked up to the car, then pulled on the handle to the driver’s side door. It was unlocked, but the dome light came on and the car dinged. The key was inside.

  Sweet. I hopped in and slumped down. If anyone looked out, they wouldn’t see me. There was no movement, from what I could tell. I had just let out a breath I’d been holding, when the passenger door opened.

  My heart raced, but I froze instead of jumping out of the car. A hand clamped onto my arm, which should have energized me, but it didn’t.

  I looked up into the stern face of the man who probably owned the car.

  “Son, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  My lips moved, but I could form no words. I’d been caught doing petty stuff. My life as a criminal had not been smooth. Ever. Auto theft was big deal – this was real jail time.

  “Uh.”

  “That’s all you got?” he said.

  He’d probably already called the cops, so I’d better run, but the man had a strong grip and I couldn’t pull free. “I’m sorry.”

  The man chuckled. He was laughing at me? It wasn’t a maniacal laugh, but it sent chills through me, anyway. “Oh, son. I’m guessing you’ve never done this before.”

  I shook my head. Maybe the cops would be lenient on me since it was my first large offense. Never mind that I’d shoplifted and stuff like that.

  “No, sir.”

  “Sir, huh. Now you get manners? You try to boost my car and you call me sir? How old are you?”

  “Eighteen, sir.”

  He nodded. “You go to the local high school?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man must be waiting for the cops to arrive. My stomach took that moment to rumble. A loud and long sound that was unmistakable. The man’s face softened. “You hungry?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Well, what was I supposed to say? My stomach had just sang a song if its people, so I couldn’t deny it. “What’s your name?”

  “Dylan.”

  “You got a last name?”

  “Cabot.”

  I licked my lips. I had no idea how I was getting out of this situation. Fuck. Shit. This had been stupid of me. If my mother was even awake, she was going to be pissed. I bet she’d let me stay in jail all night.

  “Dylan Cabot who is hungry and trying to steal my car. Well, Dylan Cabot, it’s your lucky day. I haven’t called the cops and I won’t call the cops if you do me a favor.”

  Shit, I’d do anything at this point. “Sure.”

  “Let me take you home. I’m sure someone is worried about you.”

  I shook my head. “No. No one.”

  “We’ll get takeout on the way so you have something to eat. If I let go, are you going to run? Remember, I know your name, now.”

  I shook my head, the lure of food pretty strong. If I had enough food, I’d eat all the time. “No.”

  He let go of my hand and my better judgement prevailed because I didn’t run.

  “Now, let’s switch places, and I’ll take you home,” the man said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Rob Dean,” he said, holding out his hand.

  I shook it then we both climbed out of the car. I looked at him for a moment, unsure if he was joking. I had tried to steal his car and now he was buying me dinner and driving me home. What bizarre world had I stepped into.

  “Buckle up,” Mr. Dean said when I climbed back into the car.

  I really expected Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me that I’ve been punked.

  “It’s okay, son. You care what fast food we stop at?”

  “Uh, no sir,” I said.

  I’d eat garbage at this point, which was probably what would have happened. I’d have gone dumpster diving behind the burger joint. Now, I was actually getting food from it.

  But tomorrow I’d wake up hungry, so I might as well enjoy this meal now.

  ***

  When we got closer to my house,
I turned to Mr. Dean. “You can let me out here.”

  “No, I’m taking you all of the way. I’m not going to tell your parents what you did.”

  I clutched the bag of food he’d bought me while I searched for a way to get him to stop. He didn’t need to see the trailer I lived in. He didn’t need to see my mother in her bathrobe, assuming she was even awake. If she lost her job today, she would be drinking. Among other things.

  I couldn’t have been more embarrassed. “No, really. I need to get out here. My driveway is rutted and it’ll do damage to your car.”

  “No go, son. I take you all the way there or I take you to the police station.”

  Shit. I frowned at him and didn’t say anything until we reached the driveway.

  “See. It’s a mess. You don’t need to damage your car.”

  Mr. Dean eyed the driveway then pulled off the road. “Then, we’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  I looked at his nice pants and dress shoes. It had rained this morning. “You’re going to get muddy.”

  “Everything is replaceable.”

  Spoken like a man with a big paycheck. I climbed out of the car. At least, I could find a path that wouldn’t be so muddy.

  The trailer I lived in was at the end of a long driveway. A rotted car sat to one side of the driveway. My mother said it had been hers, but it broke down and she couldn’t get it fixed. She’d been relying on rides from coworkers and several had let her down. That’s why she was fired. She hadn’t shown up for a few shifts this week.

  I would have to apply for food stamps again, posing as her online, but I needed a computer for that. I had figured out how to get internet. A neighbor hadn’t secured their network and I could use it if I stayed at one end of the trailer.

  “Is anyone home?”

  “I only live here with my mother. She may already be asleep.”

  “This early?”

  “She works odd hours.”

  Or in this case, doesn’t work. Mr. Dean nodded. “Okay, but I’d like to meet her.”

  “I’ll see if I can wake her.”

  I opened the front door. The smell hit me. She hadn’t cleaned. I hadn’t cleaned. In weeks. I tried to spend as little time here as possible, but I knew that sometimes my mother needed me to take care of her.

  My mother was passed out on the couch when I turned on the light. Mr. Dean pulled out his phone. “Go check her. I’ll call an ambulance.”

  He was barely inside the house and I could see he was wrinkling up his nose. I checked my mother. She was still breathing. “Mom.”

  She didn’t stir. I blinked at her then shook her harder. “Mom.”

  Mr. Dean put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Dylan. The ambulance is on the way.”

  The police arrived first, but there was nothing they could do. She wasn’t responding, but she was breathing. Then, the paramedics worked on her.

  “Let’s go outside, Dylan,” Mr. Dean said.

  He stood with me while the cops asked me questions. He kept his hand on my shoulder and for that moment, someone had my back. No had ever had my back. Not in my entire life.

  “You came here and just found her like this?” the officer asked me.

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Does she drink?”

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eye. I could tell he was viewing me with pity. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. I wanted a hand out of this place, but that was never going to happen. I was eighteen – too old to be put into the system.

  I was on my own having been dealt a shit hand.

  “Does she do drugs?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  Always nice to have one’s life laid out for strangers. I wanted to eat my burger and go to bed. Forget that this all happened. Or figure out another way to get a computer. Anything but stand here while these two men dissected his life.

  “Okay. I need to talk to the paramedics. Do you know what drugs she does?”

  “No sir. I never paid attention.”

  My mother had taught me call all adult males sir. It was probably the only thing good thing she taught me. When I glanced up at him, the officer nodded, but he didn’t look as if he believed me.

  I wanted to shout that I had bigger plans for myself than a trailer in the woods. Maybe I’d go into the military or to trade school. I just had to figure out how to get out of high school alive.

  The paramedics took my mother out of the house. She still hadn’t woken up yet. If she died, I was going to have to quit school to make money. Otherwise, I’d have no place to live. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I wanted to punch something. Mr. Dean squeezed my shoulder. “Dylan will come home with me.”

  “He’s eighteen, he can do what he wants,” the officer said.

  The both stared at me. I still had the sack of burgers in my hand. I really just wanted to eat them.

  “How about you eat your dinner, then you can decide. Hard to think on an empty stomach,” Mr. Dean suggested.

  I nodded, then followed him in. I didn’t look at the couch. I just sat in the kitchen. I could hear Mr. Dean moving around in the living room. He finally sat down with me as I finished my food. I did feel better.

  “You are free to do what you want, Dylan, but I suggest you come home with me. I have a bedroom for you and we can figure out what’s next.”

  I nodded. It was the best offer I’d gotten in awhile.

  Chapter Two

  Taylor.

  Mom had picked me up and told me that Dad had been out. I loved my mom, but I enjoyed the time in the car with my dad. He was much more laid back than my mother and I could talk to him about so much.

  I could ask him about boys and he wouldn’t get upset or tell me that I couldn’t date certain boys. I was eighteen, and he respected that I needed a little more freedom. My mom was all about the appearances – what I looked like and who I hung out with.

  It was so annoying. All I wanted to do was go to school, cheerlead, and hang out with my friends. Why do I have to be bothered about what I look like? People like me. I’m smart, sort of. I get so disgusted by her.

  She makes me show her how I look before school every day. I know how to dress. She taught me, after all. I thought she should leave me alone. We don’t talk the whole ride home. When we got there, Dad’s car was in the driveway.

  I hopped out to go see my daddy. I missed our talk on the ride home. I had a question for him that I didn’t think my mom could answer. Flying in the front door, I stopped dead at the strange guy sitting in my living room.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The boy stood. He looked a little familiar, but I was scared.

  “I’m Dylan. Your father brought me home,” he said.

  “Dylan? Where’s my father?” I raced down the hall to the kitchen before he could answer. “Daddy?”

  “What, pumpkin?”

  I stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. My dad was putting food on a plate.

  “Who is that guy in the living room?”

  “That’s Dylan Cabot.”

  I had heard of him. He was a burnout and bad news. Why was he in my living room? My friends were coming over after dinner. “Why is he here?”

  “He had no place to stay, and his mother is in the hospital,” he said.

  It still didn’t make sense. “How did you meet him?”

  “That not important, pussycat. He’s staying with us for a few days.”

  I blinked. “Staying with us? Does Mom know?”

  “Not yet.”

  The front door closed and my mother strode into the kitchen. “What is that tattooed boy doing in our living room?”

  “Relax, Mallory. He needed a place to stay, so I offered him one of our bedrooms. We have more than we need.”

  “He looks like trouble.”

  “Well, he is in trouble and I’d appreciate you being nice to him. The kid’s had it rough, and he needs our help.”

  “Robe
rt Dean, you are a softy. Do you have a plan?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  She frowned. My mother didn’t like people in the house. She only tolerated my friends because we went into the basement and she couldn’t hear us. My mother could be a bitch. I bet she was going to give Dad a hard time about Dylan after I went to bed.

  “Dylan,” my dad yelled.

  The boy appeared in the kitchen doorway looking at all of us as if we were going to challenge his right to be there. As long as he stayed out of my way, we’d be fine. I had no time for sullen teen boys when I had my eye on the quarterback of the football team.

  “Here’s some food. Eat.”

  “You already fed me,” he said.

  His voice was deep, more like a man than he looked. He was skinny and a tattoo snaked up his arm into his shirt. I wasn’t sure I liked tattoos, and it made him look a little scary.

  “Well, Dylan, I guess you’ll be our guest for a little while,” my mom said.

  As much as she didn’t want him here, she still had manners. You know, all about appearances and such.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”

  He took a spot on a stool at our kitchen island, then dug into the food Dad had offered him.

  “Dylan, this is my daughter, Taylor,” he said.

  Dylan looked at me, then through me. “Hello. You’re in my math class.”

  Okay. I hadn’t seen him, but I might not notice someone like him. He wasn’t in the crowd I hung out with.

  ***

  I was hungry, but I didn’t really want to eat with Dylan. He ate like he hadn’t seen food in years. Did he never eat in public?

  “I’m going to take my plate downstairs,” I said.

  My mother nodded. My father frowned. “You might as well eat with Dylan and me. Are you eating, honey?”

  My mother shook her head. “No, I have a meeting tonight.”