Who’s the Daddy

by Taryn Quinn

  I frowned. What did that mean?

  As soon as Ally left, Kelsey trained those golden eyes on me. “You’re early, Dare. In fact, I was expecting someone named…” She moved to her desk and flipped open an iPad.

  “Charles.”

  “Right, Charles Kramer. I definitely didn’t put two and two together. Actually, I’m not completely sure I knew your last name. We sort of didn’t…”

  “Talk?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “No, not much.” She wore black dress pants and some sort of coppery sweater that made her hair look like the pale edges of fire. She was goddamn beautiful and almost untouchable in her teacher gear.

  I wanted to muss her up.

  I wanted to run out the damn door.

  This was not cool at all.

  Especially since it was obvious she had more to say about Wes and I had a feeling not all of it was good.

  She waved her hand. “Have a seat, Mr. Kramer.”

  “Really? That’s where we’re going with this?”

  She huffed out a breath. “What do you want me to call you? Pizza Guy?” Her cheeks got even redder.

  My eyebrow rose. “Not sure you want me to call you Thank You Girl.”

  She moved behind her desk and sat down. “How about we just go with Kelsey and Dare, hmm?”

  That prim and proper voice was so at odds with the woman I’d originally met at the bar and again at her apartment. I was used to the girl who would blurt out anything. She definitely was like Sage in that regard. But this woman? The buttoned-up elementary school teacher?

  Yeah, no, that didn’t compute.

  I glanced down at the miniature desk she wanted me to sit at and gave her a bland look before using the desk as a chair. No way was I folding my six-foot-two self into that chair. Fuck, no.

  “I’m early because I have to go back to work. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “Certainly.” She folded her hands. “Wes is a great kid. I don’t have any real issues to go over with you—” She broke off as I stood. “Where are you going?”

  “Then I’ll tell him to be more careful and we’re good here, right?”

  “No. Not quite.”

  I fisted my hands at my sides. “Then what?”

  She got up from her desk and came around to lean on the edge. “Mr.—” At my almost growl, she cut herself off. “Dare…” She scrubbed her palms over her pants. “This is awkward.”

  “Because we’ve been naked? Or because you don’t want to tell me my kid has a problem?”

  “Well, I certainly see where Wes gets his defensiveness. And that’s what I want to talk to you about, but only if we can have a conversation like adults.”

  I crowded her against the desk, boxing her in with a hand on each side of her hips. “You were adult enough to take me into your body a few weeks ago.”

  Her pupils blew wide and her fingers clutched the edge of her desk beside mine. “We’re not talking about that.”

  “Then stop trying to talk to me like I’m a fucking stranger.”

  Her gaze kept bouncing from my mouth to my eyes to my neck and back again. She licked her lips. “I’m your son’s teacher.”

  “And I’m annoyingly hot for teacher evidently.”

  “You did not just quote Van Halen to me.”

  “I might kiss you just because you know the reference.” I leaned into her. “I might kiss you just because.”

  “Is this guy bothering you, Kelsey?”

  I resisted the urge to snarl at the interruption. I was already hard as hell and her sharp orange scent was making me crazy. As it was, I’d gone to look for blood oranges in the produce department just to see if that was indeed the smell I couldn’t stop thinking about. That had been the name on the bottle in her bathroom, but an artificial scent might not compare to the real thing.

  It was damn close.

  But it wasn’t Kelsey.

  And my brain was definitely not engaged right now. Unless you counted the primal lizard part that wanted to rip out the douchetwat’s throat for interrupting us.

  Kelsey pushed me back and shifted toward the guy in the doorway. I still hadn’t looked away from her, since she was my entire focus.

  “Caleb, um, no. Of course not.” She smoothed her hair away from her face.

  What the hell was that about? I finally dragged my attention from her to the doorway. Straight-laced teacher type. Was she actually worried about this dude seeing us together?

  I straightened. I was good enough to hook up with, but not to be seen with. I’d been there before. Nice girls only liked the gutter when they were ankles were up toward the ceiling.

  Or…

  I huffed out a half laugh. Or this was her kind of guy, not me. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was poaching.”

  “You were what?” She elbowed me in the ribs. “No one is poaching on anyone and we’re at school, for Pete’s sake. Neither of you should be saying the things you do here.”

  I folded my arms and crowded into her again. “Saying things like what?”

  “Are you serious right now? Are you going to pee around me or something?” She pushed me back a step, then glanced at the douchenozzle. “Never mind. This is ridiculous.”

  I finally recognized the guy hovering in the hallway now that I had my head in the game and not ready to dive between her fucking thighs. Beck’s little brother was a teacher here. And douche still applied. He thought his marathon boy and gym rat muscles made him a man.

  More than a few women had fallen for his brand of charm.

  Personally, I wanted to use his head as a soccer ball whenever he was around me and his brother. Which wasn’t often. He was too worried about the closest single woman in a five-mile radius.

  “Dare.” Caleb hovered at the threshold of her classroom. “I didn’t realize you were friends.”

  I was pretty sure the fucknut wanted to choke on that word.

  Kelsey sighed. “I’m fine, Caleb. Thanks for checking on me. Dare and I were just…talking.”

  Without thinking, my hand coasted along her lower back.

  She looked up at me again with eyebrows climbing for her damn hairline. I dropped my hand.

  Caleb puffed up his chest, but he didn’t come any closer. “If you’re sure.”

  “She’s sure,” I said darkly. Besides, what was this kid going to do? I could break him with my pinky.

  “I can speak for myself, thank you.” She gave me a sharp look, then Caleb a tight smile. “I can handle myself. He’s harmless.”

  I gave her a serious dose of side eye. I’d show her how harmless I was as soon as we were alone. She stomped on my foot and winced for her trouble. I had steel-toe boots for a reason.

  “All right. I’m right across the hall if you need me.” He melted out into the dark.

  “Caleb?”

  He rushed back in. “Yes?”

  “Close the door for me?”

  I resisted the urge to smile big. Instead, I left my face stony. Caleb was afraid of me on a good day. Today was not a good day.

  Caleb nodded and shut the door before glaring at me through the skinny window.

  Pussy.

  “You don’t get to do that. Just because we slept together.”

  “Twice. I’m entirely sure it was memorable, darlin’. You screamed my name multiple times, each time. Even said—”

  “Do not say what I know you’re going to say.” She stabbed a finger into my chest. “I can’t believe this.”

  “It’s a small town. Did you really think we wouldn’t run into each other again outside of when it’s convenient for you? I work two doors down from your apartment.”

  “Of course not. But this makes it a little more precarious. I’m your son’s teacher.”

  “Considering most of the teachers in this school are married, I’m sure there’s some overlap all over the place.”

  She huffed out a breath. “That’s not the point.”

  “What is it then? That we slept to
gether? Or that you’re ashamed about it?”

  “I’m not ashamed. Well, not really. I mean, I have needs. Every woman does. That’s not the point!” Her voice rose with each sentence.

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and shifted her toward me again, lowering my mouth until we were a few millimeters apart. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Conflict of interest is the problem.” She swayed a little and her face went as white as my shirt.

  “Kelsey.” I grabbed her elbow.

  “Oh, God.” She staggered away from me and slapped a hand over her mouth.

  The look on her face had me reacting. I knew it well. I had a five-year-old. I spotted a small trash bin next to her desk and handed it to her just before she spewed. “That’s it. Just get it out.”

  “Get away from me.”

  I huffed out a sigh. “Not my first rodeo, darlin’.” I gathered her hair back at the nape of her neck. “You all right?”

  “No. I want to die.”

  “Didn’t take you for the weak constitution type.”

  She held the back of her hand against her mouth. “Flu. Kids.” She moaned and went for another round.

  I winced and gently led her to the sink across the room. “You done?”

  “I think so.”

  I pushed her hair back and gave her a once over. Her color was coming back. Slowly. “Go on and wash your mouth out.”

  “I could just die.”

  “You should have been in the shop when we got a batch of bad clams. This is nothing.”

  She ran the water and rinsed her mouth. “Can you grab my bag from the bottom right drawer of my desk?”

  I frowned at her, but figured she was upright enough for me to get there and back before she pitched forward. Maybe. She hunched over the sink and rested her head against the faucet.

  I opened her desk and found a purse the size of my entire torso. Jesus. It took me two tries to get it free, but then I was back beside her. “Here.”

  She plucked a green bag out from the bottom with barely a look. How she knew which bag was which with the six in there, I had no idea. But the sharp scent of mint disrupted the sour aroma.

  While she was brushing the sick out of her mouth, I found a trash can liner and dumped the little wastebasket into the bag and tied it off. The little plastic bin was pretty and frilly like a girl. And also had a basket weave that would never recover. Better to just put it all out of its misery.

  I put the bag near the door and went back to her. “All right?”

  She blew out a slow breath. “Yes. We’ve had three kids out with the stomach bug. It’s not shocking I got it.”

  I leaned forward and touched my lips to her forehead. “No fever.”

  She blinked up at me. “No. I’m probably in the contagious phase. Which doesn’t bode well for you.”

  I shrugged. “I rarely get sick. Motor oil in my veins.”

  She tied her hair back into a low tail. “I hope that’s true. It’s not fun in the least. At least according to the moms I’ve talked to.”

  “Maybe you should cancel the rest of the meetings tonight. Just in case. I can, uh, take you home if you want.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll send out an email to the other parents, but I can get home on my own.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “Yeah, but I’m going back to work anyway, so I’m right there.”

  “Then I won’t have my car.”

  “I can have one of the guys pick it up.”

  She rested a hand against my chest. “I’ll be okay.”

  “All right. I can take a hint.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip. “It’s not that. I hope you know that.”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “And that’s what your son does. He obviously has learned it from you.”

  I folded my arms.

  “That too. Look, Dare. He’s an amazing kid. I’m not disputing that, so don’t get all…growly.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are. But he’s obviously got something going on at home, or because of this thing with Laurie. Just promise me you’ll talk to him.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” She stepped back and I immediately wanted to pull her closer again.

  And that was stupid. Very stupid. Obviously, she had her own reasons for not wanting to start up something with me. My own list of reasons was about as long as my arm.

  The top three reasons all included my kid.

  Now I had to talk to him about some girl. Seth Hamilton’s kid no less. Wes was six. Just the thought of girls at his age made me want to hide under the hood of a car. Maybe I could teach Wes how to take apart an engine.

  Surely that would be easier.

  Fuck.

  “Feel better.” I backed away and crossed to the door. I snagged the trash bag as I strode out and didn’t look back.

  Even if a strong part of me wanted to gather Kelsey close and take care of her. That was the most dangerous part of all.

  I lengthened my stride down the hall, dumping the bag in one of the janitor bins on my way out the door.

  I jammed my aviators on my face and put her out of my mind.

  I’d done it before. I could do it again.

  One of these days, it would finally stick.

  Nine

  I slept on my lumpy couch. It made me wonder if half my stomach queasiness came from the smell of the ancient fabric. Which started me down the path of cleaning my entire apartment at dawn. All eight hundred square feet of it. It didn’t take long.

  Just like my unpacking, though I’d stretched out that awful task as long as humanly possible.

  Since I didn’t have another episode—yay extra strength Febreeze and baking powder trick on Pinterest—I went full tilt on the baby shower prep for Sage. At least the non-cooking things. No need to infect the world if I was sick for some reason and just not showing symptoms.

  Well, except those two exceptional moments yesterday.

  Someday, I’d stop cringing about it.

  When I was ninety maybe.

  I worked on shower prep for a bit and then passed the rest of the day on my sofa. Watching TV and surfing online seemed to be about the extent of what I had energy for.

  As was driven home to me with sterling clarity when I woke up with my neck bent an unnatural angle and my face smushed into a Febreezed cushion the next morning.

  What was my damage lately? This was like a super stealth bug or something. Kept coming and going without warning. But today was the shower, and I needed to get my butt moving.

  Making a fleet of paper cranes from a tutorial I found on YouTube seemed safe. I could always spray them down with Lysol. Not that they should hold germs in the oxygenated air—thank you, weird science trivia lodged in my brain. In that regard, I shouldn’t be causing any problems with the women and children who would probably be in attendance.

  Before I’d fallen asleep last night, I’d spent a couple hours swearing at my smart TV since the little screen of my phone wasn’t enough. Apparently, I needed the videos approximately forty-two inches in size to learn how to make the paper cranes. I fell asleep dreaming of them.

  I really had to stop sleeping on the sofa. Especially before nine o’clock. What was I, seven years old? It wasn’t as if I didn’t have a truly stupendous new bed to sleep on. But sleeping there made me think of Dare, and thinking of Dare made me think of wall-knocking sex or puke.

  Right now, neither of those options did much for me. So…couch it was.

  Lame. So lame.

  After a shower and no other stomach episodes, I used part of the morning to finish my little project.

  I started with the big ones that we’d hang from the trees in the backyard. When I only mangled fifteen of the hundred sheets of origami paper or so, I moved on to little ones that would perch on top of the cupcakes from Sugar Rush, a super cute bakery in town. Okay, possibly the only bakery.


  When my hand started cramping, I switched to texting Ally to make sure everything was ready.

  I got three replies and finally a photo reply with her middle finger in crystal clear focus with a half dozen tables already set up in her backyard. Okay, so I was being a little anal about the party.

  But I really wanted it to go well. I liked having girlfriends. Was it so wrong to show them that?

  I frowned down at the pile of paper cranes. Okay, maybe I was overdoing it a little. But then again, Sage was the one who told me stories about how many of these crazy paper animals Oliver made her.

  I sniffled and wiped my hand under my nose. Why the hell were my eyes leaking? I huffed out a breath and got up to wash my hands and face and blow my nose. Maybe I was sicker than I’d thought. There was no reason for me to be getting all teary about paper cranes.

  Just because I’d never had a guy in my life who cared enough about me to obsessively make little paper animals didn’t mean my life was incomplete. And okay, so what if my ex-boyfriend had treated me more like an afterthought than his partner? That was on me too. I was the one willing to take scraps.

  That was so over. Crescent Cove was my fresh start.

  I exhaled and waved a hand near my eyes to dispel the rest of the tears then stalked over to my phone and opened my music app. I didn’t have to sit here in silence and cry about dumb stuff.

  Because the dumb stuff pushed me into thinking too much about a certain single dad I had no business worrying about. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell me he had a child, let alone that said child was in my class.

  Who got the name Dare from Charles, dammit? Not that Charles suited him. Maybe Charlie, but definitely not the name fit for a royal. A guy with that name would not have the kind of oral prowess that made me dream about him four weeks-plus later. Even just remembering it made my toes tingle.

  And other things.

  The fact that I’d never had such things happen between my legs in my life could account for some of it. Like never to the tenth power of ever. But that didn’t mean I should still be thinking about him.

  I couldn’t even do a one-night stand properly. Okay, so it was two nights, but it wasn’t even like it was a wild weekend. Two distinct moments of madness.