Hot Daddy Sauce

by Angel Devlin

  I follow Carl into the living room, and I know he’s chatting away to me but I’m in the window looking at Jenson again as he bids goodbye to the mystery woman and drives off. She must be important because she’s looking after Amelia and I know already from one meeting that Jenson would not allow just anyone to care for his daughter.

  “Earth calling Leah.”

  I turn and stare at Carl, with a no doubt vacant expression on my face.

  “God, I’m so sorry, Carl.” I lift up my coffee mug. “I’m half dead today, hence this is my third cup. You fancy one?”

  “I’m guessing you mean a coffee?” Carl quips. He’s a typical workman, with a pleasant demeanour and a cheeky bluster about him. His eyes have looked me up and down twice already today but hell, he’s male, and I know my clothes are scanty, but it’s so hot weather wise and doing physical work makes it even worse. Soon, Carl will remove his t-shirt and I’ll be checking out those toned abs of his so I can’t complain he checks me out too. Tall, with sandy, wavy hair and green eyes, Carl is a good looking guy, but when I look at him there’s no connection. Not like I had with Jenson.

  God, will you stop mooning about Jenson, it’s pathetic. He has a girlfriend and Carl’s single. Flirt with Carl.

  But I can’t. Jenson’s hazel gaze meeting mine is on repeat in my mind.

  I spend the rest of the morning emptying my bedroom into boxes: some things to keep, some for charity, some for the bin. Once it’s painted, I will live in my personality-free bedroom until it becomes someone else’s. I have all the neutral new bedding purchased along with matching curtains. A blank slate for someone else.

  From then on it’s masking tape everywhere and by the time lunchtime comes around I’m a sweaty heap. Carl has brought lunch, so I just make him another drink, and I take my own sandwich and glass of water into the garden.

  My parents’ back garden is long with a decking area at the top with a table and chairs and then it leads down to a grassed area. At the bottom is a glass greenhouse next to my father’s vegetable patch. I’ve been watering everything that was left in there but that’s been it. I guess really I should harvest any veg that’s ready, but I’ve been existing on pizza and takeaways, evidenced by the extra few pounds on my tits and arse. It’s hard to cook for one. Maybe I could invite Jenson and Amelia around for a meal? Except, I can barely cook. Wandering down to the veg patch, I try to work out what’s in there. Little stringy bean things, tomatoes, cucumbers that are so huge they look obscene, and a row of chillis. What the heck was my dad intending to do with that many? Finding a clean large plant pot in the greenhouse, I start taking off everything that seems ready. I’ll take a load of veg around next door later tonight as a thank you for them caring for me and feeding me this morning and I’ll try to find out who the woman is like the sad bitch I am.

  My bedroom looks over the back garden and once I’m back there after my garden foraging and eating my lunch, I emulsion a wall and then peer out nosying as I watch Amelia running around her garden dressed as a princess. Christ, she must be roasting hot in that costume. Sure enough, the woman comes out and inflates a paddling pool, putting the hose in it to fill it and then changes Amelia into a swimsuit and lathers her in suntan lotion. They look so comfortable together. This woman has clearly been in Amelia’s life for a long time. She’s slim and pretty, with light-brown curly hair. Dressed in a long yellow sundress with a daisy design on it, she looks the epitome of effortless summer glamour. Her feet are encased in gold sandals. As she walks, her buttoned up sundress reveals a hint of shapely calf. Goddamn it. I take my frustrations out on the next wall, getting more paint on my body, face, and in my hair as I smack the roller onto the plaster and push it up and down. I turn on the radio to drown out the sounds of the two of them enjoying themselves in the garden.

  “I’m done for the day, darlin’.” I pivot to find Carl standing in the doorway. “Jesus, you look like you got more paint on yourself than the wall.” He sniggers, once more appraising my body, although this time it’s amusement not lust reflected in his features.

  I grin back at him. “Yep, but the job’s almost done, so it’s worth it. Emulsion washes off easily enough.”

  “True. So anyway, the living room is all done. I’ll be back tomorrow for the kitchen. We’re getting there, Leah. The weather will help loads with drying the walls, but leave the windows open and my industrial fans on okay?”

  I salute him and a spray of paint flows out in his general direction. Thank God for distance between us, and old curtains covering my carpet. Once these walls have another coat of paint later on, I can get cleared up and the carpet cleaned and this room will be done.

  I hear the door close and breathe out a huge exhale with relief that once more it’s just me in the house. Time for another coffee break, then to get the second coat of paint on, and then another shower and another takeaway. I have no energy for cooking tonight. I have barely enough to paint again. The heat and the effort are wiping me out.

  So it’s funny later after my takeaway that I suddenly have enough energy to pop next door with my now bagged up veggies. Given how sophisticated the woman next door looked, I put on a mint-coloured tea-dress that my mother made me buy for a wedding reception, along with a pair of grey kitten heels. I straighten my hair and add a light dusting of make-up. I don’t want to appear like I’m trying too hard. I watched the woman leave earlier so I know there are only the two of them in the house now. Grabbing my plastic bag full of veg, I open my door, removing the key and putting it in my little grey shoulder bag and then I walk down my path, across the front, and up their path.

  With one last smooth of my hair and my dress, I ring the doorbell.

  I hear an, “Amelia, come back. What have I told you about safety? Adults answer the door, not six-year-olds.” A curtain pulls back and Jenson’s gaze meets mine through the window. I smile and my smile is returned. Then a little body pushes past him and Amelia is waving and grinning through the window and I notice she has a gap at the middle of her top row of teeth where this morning there was none.

  They disappear from the window and there’s a fiddling of a key in the lock and then the door opens and he’s standing in front of me. He’s dressed in an open white shirt, and I find it quite hard not to pass out from sheer lust from where I’m standing. I can see a six-pack and oh my fucking god there’s the ‘v’ running into his low-slung jeans. This shouldn’t be allowed. God, that lucky bitch who just left. Please let her just be a childminder, I beg to every deity I know.

  “Hey.” I hold up the bag. “So, my dad used to be a keen gardener and I’ve rescued some veg from the patch. There’s far too much for me, and to be honest, I can barely cook, so can you use any of this?” I hand over the bag.

  “You don’t need to cook. My daddy’s a chef. He can cook all your dinners, can’t you, Daddy?” Amelia jumps up and down excitedly. “What’s in the bag, Daddy? Show me.”

  He looks at me and at Amelia and back again. “I have a little budding chef of my own.”

  “Ah, right. I brought these to the right place then.”

  “Tomatoes, cumber. What are those little red things, Daddy? Are they baby peppers?”

  “They’re chillis, sweetpea. And they are spicy hot. You have to be careful with cutting and handling those so for now they are just for me to use okay? You stick with the tomatoes.” He passes a small cherry one to her and she stuffs it in her mouth. “That’s so delicious. I think that’s the best tomato I ever tasted. Another, Daddy, another.”

  He lifts up a pepper and stares at it. “Wow, a Bird’s Eye chilli,” he says. I look at him, feeling a crease come to my brow.

  “Bird’s Eye? Like the people who make fish fingers?”

  He guffaws with laughter. “No, that’s the name of the variety. It originated in Thailand, Cambodia, places like that; but it’s used around the world in cuisine now. They’re called Bird’s Eye because of their roundish shape and the fact that birds spread them.
<
br />   “Oh.” I reply feeling stupid.

  “I like your dress.” Amelia says. “Does it twirl?”

  “Er, I’m not sure.” I reply honestly, bearing in mind I never got up to dance at the wedding reception because the DJ insisted on playing shit like The Birdie Song all night.

  “Well, try please.”

  “Amelia, stop being bossy.”

  “It’s okay.” I tell her dad. “I’ll try it.”

  So I swirl around and sure enough the dress twirls and then the summer breeze gets behind it and the next thing I know, I’ve flashed my thong at the pair of them.

  “I can see your bum!” Amelia giggles.

  I want to die.

  5

  Jenson

  When the doorbell rings I’m expecting it to be some irritating salesman at the other side that we seem to be inundated with at the moment. I panic when I see Amelia rush towards the door because those men could be anyone. I hate that I get so paranoid, but I can’t help it, my protective nature knows no bounds when it comes to my daughter. What I’m not expecting when I pull the curtain back to reveal who’s standing at our front door is Leah. Only, she doesn't look a bit like I remember because gone are the tiny gardening clothes she was barely covered by this morning, and in their place is a cute little dress which looks like something I might put Amelia in. My stomach twists as I’m reminded of how young my new next-door neighbour is and just how inappropriate my sudden crush is.

  “It’s Leah,” Amelia squeals excitedly when she joins me at the window. “Quick, let’s invite her in for Cinderella.”

  Amelia’s gone before I get the chance to make an excuse and when I catch up with her, she’s already at the front door twisting the key.

  Glancing down at myself, I realise I should probably tell Amelia to wait and button up my shirt but ever hopeful that Leah might see something she likes, much like I do every time I’ve laid my eyes on her, I push the thought aside and pull the door wide.

  My breath catches the moment my gaze lands on her. She looked beautiful through the window but being right in front of her is so much more intense. Her eyes hold mine and her lips curl up in a slightly shy smile before she holds her hand out and shows me something that gets me even more excited. A bag of veg!

  I get a little overexcited about the fresh produce she’s brought around for me. She can’t possibly know my obsession with food from the few minutes we spent together this morning, so it’s either a good guess or she needed an excuse to come back. I like to think it’s the latter of the two options, but fuck knows why. I’m a single dad to a little girl who single-handedly embarrassed both of us only hours ago. Why would she risk coming back?

  My obsession with the veg gets the better of me and I soon end up showing my inner food geek by relaying my detailed knowledge about the Birds Eye chilli, much to Leah’s amusement.

  Thankfully my daughter rescues me, but in true Amelia style she manages to cause even more embarrassment when she insists that Leah does a twirl in her dress and she ends up flashing us both with her bare arse.

  The second the fabric lifts and reveals her smooth, flawless, peachy arse, my mouth waters and I find myself biting down on my bottom lip, wondering how it might feel if it was her arse. My cock swells and I feel like a fucking teenager again getting his first look at a naked woman. It’s only her arse, Jenson. Get a grip.

  “Shit... fuck. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should go. Shit. Grrr.”

  Leah goes to take a step back, but I take pity on her, or at least that’s what I tell myself as I try to ignore the disappointment that floods me as I consider her leaving so soon.

  “Wait,” I call. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Yes,” Amelia squeals, “We’re about to watch Cinderella before I have to go to bed.” I don’t need to look at my daughter to know the end of that sentence came with an eye roll. “Daddy can make you one of his magical hot chocolates.”

  The mention of chocolate seems to perk Leah back up a little, although it’s not enough for her to agree.

  “Oh no, I shouldn’t intrude. I’ve got plenty to be doing.”

  “Are you going out?” I ask, realising that she’s dressed up like she should be. “Date?”

  Her cheeks flush. “Oh, no. I just... uh... my mum bought this for me so I wanted to…” she trails off and I feel awful. She’s already been through enough and between the two of us we keep making it worse.

  “Please, come in. Don’t let that pretty dress go to waste.”

  “I’ll go and put the DVD in.” Amelia’s gone before I have a chance to blink and Leah steps towards me.

  “You think it’s pretty?”

  “Uh... yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s the kind of thing that Amelia would choose, so…” I trail off feeling like a dick for comparing her sexy as sin dress to one belonging to my six-year-old.

  “Riiight.”

  “Um... you should come in before she comes to find you.”

  “Sure.”

  Stepping back, I allow her to enter. The second she moves past me her sweet scent fills my nose and my cock threatens to go full mast behind my zip.

  “I was just about to jump in the shower. I’ll make the hot chocolate when I come back down.”

  “Isn’t it a little hot for that?” Her eyes drop from mine to my bare chest for a split second and my brain misfires as I wonder what she’s talking about.

  “Yeah... um... I’ll be back.”

  Fucking hell, anyone would think I’ve never spoken to a female before in my life. I shake my head in frustration as I climb the stairs, my balls aching with my need for release like they have been since my eyes first landed on Leah in a heap on the floor in the garden.

  Turning the shower on, I twist the temperature straight to cold. I need to get myself together before I go back down and try to act like she hasn’t sent my world into a tailspin. My focus needs to be my daughter and my business. I’ve no time to be fantasising about the girl next door, her tiny denim hot pants, and her black lace thong.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I don’t allow myself to think about it; the second I step under the freezing cold water, I wrap my fist around my solid cock and tug. A groan rumbles up my throat but I swallow it down for fear of being heard.

  I’m so worked up after having images of Leah in those damn shorts on repeat in my mind all day that it takes embarrassingly few pumps of my cock before releasing my seed into the swirling water at my feet.

  My muscles relax for a beat but as soon as the thought of her sitting downstairs with Amelia enters my head, it feels like it was all for nothing. I fear nothing short of having her under me is going to fix my current situation.

  Stepping out, I wrap a towel around my waist and head out to find some fresh clothes. I automatically reach for a pair of jersey shorts but when I notice my cock’s already tenting the towel once again, I think better of it. That fabric shows enough at the best of times, I don’t need to be walking down there—where my daughter is, I remind myself—showing off my semi.

  Sounds of their joyful chatter fills the air as I descend the stairs and head towards the kitchen for Amelia’s nightly treat. Leah was right, it is a bit hot for it, but Amelia insists and who am I to take that little pleasure away from her?

  I make Amelia’s standard mug, swirl cream around the steaming chocolate and then sprinkle a few marshmallows to finish it off before turning to grab a bottle of coffee liqueur to spike the adults’ drinks with. Placing all three on a tray, I carry them through.

  The sight in the living room stops me in my tracks when I get to the doorway. Amelia and Leah have made themselves a den—or knowing my daughter it’s probably meant to be a castle—and they’re both laid out surrounded by sofa cushions with a blanket precariously draped over the top, watching Cinderella.

  My heart aches. Amelia should have someone she can do this with every day. I thought I hated her mother when she first left, but now understanding everything Amelia is missi
ng out on because of her mother’s selfish actions makes me hate her even more. I’ve no idea how I didn’t see it prior to her falling pregnant. Not that it would make a difference because I can’t regret any of it. I’ve got the most incredible daughter and right now, that’s all that matters.

  I step a little into the room and their heads come into view. I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips when I find them both wearing tiaras and Amelia with one of her dress up dresses over the top of her pyjamas.

  “Oh the hot chocolate's here. You’re going to love it, Leah. Daddy makes it perfect.”

  Leah glances up at me. My heart pounds the second our eyes connect and I swear hers darken as our contact holds.

  “Well, I can’t wait for a taste then.”

  The ache I’m becoming used to when I’m around her starts up and the tray trembles in my hands.

  Thankfully, the sight of Amelia scrambling from their makeshift castle catches my eye and she races over to take her mug.

  Leah is slightly more elegant as she crawls from beneath the blanket, although it doesn't mean I don’t get a great shot straight down the front of her dress.

  “Hmmm... smells incredible,” she all but moans when she gets to me and takes the closest mug.

  “I made yours extra special,” I say with a wink.

  “Well, I can’t wait to experience it. Thank you.” Her words might sound perfectly innocent but the dark, hungry look in her eyes as she says them is anything but and it sets off my imagination once again.

  How long is it until Amelia’s bedtime?

  I sit myself at the opposite end of the sofa to Leah in the hope her alluring scent might fade but it never does. It also means she’s constantly in my line of vision every time I so much as glance at the TV. Not that I need to, I could recite Cinderella word for word with the amount of times I’ve been forced to sit through it over the years.