Daddy Next Door

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Daddy Next Door Page 4

by Kylie Walker


  I supposed we all had secrets. I had essentially no real idea of who these people were. Just that Tyler was divorced and that both he and his daughter had a sincere dislike for his ex-wife.

  Once inside the house, Tyler and Rachel followed me to the kitchen, where I reached for the lemonade. Having Tyler this close to me in an enclosed space heightened the attraction I felt toward him. It had been a long time since I had felt this kind of immediate chemistry and every time I had seen him recently it had grown considerably. My god, I wanted this man.

  Rachel continued to play with the dog, leading him into the far living room and tossing various toys that were already strewn about. The place still looked like no one had lived there for ages, even though it had already been over a week that I had moved in.

  I hunted for something, anything to say.

  “Sorry for the mess,” I began, knowing I sounded foolish. What did I even mean? And why was he making me feel like jelly? I was normally so much more articulate than this.

  “That’s the beauty of a new place,” he said. “A clean slate until you mess it up with memories. With good times.” His eyes seemed to read me like a book, glancing across my chest and taking in the curve of my waist, his eyes falling down to where my hips flared out.

  “Your daughter’s adorable,” I said as I turned my attention to the lemonade. “I’m going to enlist her as much as I can to watch my dog when I’m at the lab on late nights,” I said, pouring us three glasses of lemonade.

  “The lab?” he asked.

  Of course. He knew nothing about me, either.

  “Yes. I’m a lab assistant at the University. Graduated with a major in biology recently and actually got a job. At least, until I realize what I actually want to be when I grow up,” I said, my cheeks turning a bright pink. What did I mean—‘do’ when I grow up? And how young did I sound? I hadn’t told him a single element of my real past. He didn’ have to know about my best friend sleeping with my boyfriend or that I’d left Asheville with my tail between my legs.

  “It’s a process,” Tyler said. He crept closer, easing against the countertop beside me. Staring into my eyes, he seemed so dominant, powerful.

  God, it felt so good to be stared at like that. It was like sparks crackling through the air, an electrical current flowing between us.

  “So you’re a scientist. What kind?” he asked me.

  “I’m studying mice and sleep patterns,” I whispered, not sure if I sounded like an idiot or not. Or was it gross that I dealt with literal rodents at my day job? I didn’t know.

  He pointed his nose back toward Rachel, in the far room, and said, “She’s fascinated with science. Says she wants to be either a doctor or an ecologist when she grows up. Of course, I don’t know anything about either of those professions. Maybe you could talk to her. Give her a bit of insight about what’s out there.”

  My voice caught. “I’d love to,” I said. “Bringing little girls into the science field is—well—definitely one of my passions. I remember how lonely it was to be the nerdy girl who had an ant farm.”

  He snickered, but not with a mean spirit. Still, he wasn’t giving me much to go off of.

  “That thing she said about her mom last week?” I began, sounding tentative.

  “Divorced several years ago,” he said, his voice low. “She has to spend a bit too much time there. I don’t think it’s a good environment for her, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Well. If she ever needs to come over here—“ I found myself offering, almost incredulous that I’d already opened my life to these strangers. I wasn’t normally so open. For the past five years, I’d had a community. People I trusted. And now?

  He stared at me for a long time after that, as if judging whether or not I was serious. He took a soft step closer, making me realize he was nearly a foot taller than I. At five foot three, my nose was almost pressed into the center of his chest. I inhaled his musky scent, overcome with a burst of longing. Glancing upward, I found him staring down at me, his lips parted.

  His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “I’ll be sure to keep you in mind.”

  At that moment, Rachel and Randy entered the room, with Randy scampering around her feet. She giggled madly, not realizing what was going on between her father and I.

  “I think I’m in love,” she breathed, again tossing a fake bone across the room. “Daddy, I can’t go to Mom’s house tonight. I have to stay here. With Quinn and Randy, forever.”

  “See what you’ve done?” Tyler said, taking a step back and sipping his lemonade, looking almost devilish. “You’ve destroyed our entire night. How can I force her to leave? She hasn’t been this happy in years.”

  “Ha,” I said, unsure of what to make of this conversation. Why did he have the continual upper hand? I glanced at the young girl, my mind racing. How could I make this interaction normal again? “Rachel, I heard you’re interested in science.”

  Rachel’s nod was emphatic. “Science is my best subject. Then math. I also LOVE to read, but I don’t know if I want to do anything with books for a living. I want to make a difference.”

  Her words were filled with such purpose, such promise. I almost laughed, sensing that she was the first pure person I’d met in years. “That’s a beautiful thing. That’s part of the reason I wanted to be a scientist as well.”

  “You’re a scientist?” Rachel asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

  “Come look,” I said, drawing her toward the hallway, where I’d placed the wall art. In the back of the stack, I found the three frames, filled with countless bugs—all of the collected by yours truly, and then stabbed with a single pin and labeled beneath. They were beetles, fireflies, butterflies, and moths—all organized during a time when I’d been sure I’d wanted to study bugs for a living.

  I watched as Rachel’s eyes ate up each one with fascination. She whispered their names as if she were reading a lullaby. Tyler watched us from the end of the hallway, a small smile spread across his face. What on earth was he thinking? That I was a nerd?

  And why had I offered to watch his kid? Jesus. There was no way he even liked me.

  For all I knew, he had a girlfriend or a fiancé. He had someone—who wasn’t me. And it wasn’t like I was ready for any kind of relationship anyway.

  “This is so cool,” Rachel said, leaning back against the wall. “I didn’t even know you could do this. Daddy, I need to make my own collection. Like, as soon as possible.”

  “We’ll go bug hunting soon, kiddo,” Tyler said. He glanced at his watch, perhaps growing bored of me. “In the meantime, I have to take you to your mom’s. It’s getting late.”

  Grumbling, Rachel rose up and raced to the dog, kissing him atop his head to say goodbye. “You shouldn’t go to San Francisco,” she breathed, making me curious.

  I followed her, walking mere centimeters from Tyler, sensing that he wanted to touch me. I suddenly wanted to tell him to stay behind; to come back and be with me. God, I was stupid. I wouldn’t have uttered those words in a million years. I was cowardly, sure. But I was also sensible. That’s what scientists were. They looked at the hard facts and made decisions based on them.

  I walked them to the door, giving Rachel a broad smile and a half-hug, already growing to feel a bit of love for her. Dangerous. I shook Tyler’s hand, feeling childlike as if I’d just had a meeting with a professor who’d told me I needed to apply myself in class.

  “San Francisco?” I asked, my eyebrows high.

  “For work. Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I hate leaving her alone like this.” He brought his arm around Rachel’s shoulder, hugging her tight against his leg. She tapped her hand against his taut stomach, making him laugh.

  It was beautiful, seeing them like this—a man who truly loved his daughter and wanted the very best for her. I watched the two of them walk back across the grass, realizing I’d moved into an incredibly dangerous position.

  I
wasn’t sure how I was going to avoid him.

  Chapter 7

  Tyler

  Driving Rachel to Marnie’s place wasn’t exactly simple and easy, not after encountering the most gorgeous woman I’d seen in years—actually spending time with her, speaking with her for the first time. I felt out of my mind, forcing my eyes on the road, hardly able to listen to Rachel as she spoke excitedly about the new neighbor.

  “Dad, can you believe a woman scientist moved in beside us?” she asked, her eyes wide. “I mean, think of all the things she could teach me. And when I’m a little bit older, maybe I can walk her dog around the neighborhood by myself! And what if she took me to her lab…” She trailed off, pressing her hands across her thighs, excitement making her quiver. “Dad, seriously. She’s even cooler than you.”

  “Is that so?” I asked her, giving her a sneaky smile. “Come on, squirt. Don’t overwhelm the poor girl. She just moved in. Let’s not bombard her with all of our schemes to make her a part of our life just yet.”

  “You want to be friends with her, too?” Rachel asked, her voice honest and pure.

  God, I could hardly face what I actually wanted to do with that girl. Quinn. She was so breathtakingly gorgeous, and every time I was in her presence I wanted to take her into my arms and ravish her. Completely inappropriate given the fact that Rachel was always around.

  Once I reached Marnie’s, I pulled into the driveway, my eyebrows low. I was always uneasy when I was about to see Marnie since I was never quite sure what kind of mood she was going to be in. She’d been an explosive person when we’d met, which was part of the reason I was so attracted to her. Her zest for life, her joie de vivre—it had all been exciting. That is until she’d gone absolutely ape shit with that affair.

  With the flower guy.

  When she’d wanted to get back together a few months after, I’d refused. I’d realized just how strong I was without her, how much of a better father I would be to Rachel. And I thanked god every single day that we hadn’t had another child, just to ‘fix’ the problems between us.

  Now, we were like strangers.

  “Why haven’t you ever dated anyone, Daddy?” Rachel asked me suddenly.

  “Why are you asking that?” I said, trying to keep my voice even. She’d never shown any kind of interest in my personal life, and I didn’t want anything getting to Marnie about what had just happened between Quinn and I. Not that anything had, or would.

  “Because Mom met someone. Even got married,” Rachel said, shrugging. She eyed the trees outside. “She says you’re a loser because you don’t date anyone.”

  “A loser, huh?”

  I felt my blood begin to boil, as we sat there in the driveway. With my nostrils flared, I waited as Rachel gathered her overnight bag and cranked open the door.

  “You coming?” she called.

  “Sure,” I said, wanting to blast back down the driveway and leave before saying hello. But I had never done that, had always shown that I was the stronger of the two of us, if only because I came to the door. I said hello. I told her what was going on with Rachel’s school homework. I was fucking diligent in all the ways Marnie never was.

  When we reached the door, I had to ring the doorbell three times before Marnie appeared in the crack. She gave Rachel a dry, almost drunken smile. I wanted to ask her if she’d started drinking before dinner again—as she’d begun doing right after Rachel was born. But I pressed my lips together, waiting.

  I had to behave.

  “Hey, Mom,” Rachel said, sounding disappointed. “What’s up?”

  “I’m making your dinner,” Marnie said, turning her fingers through her dyed red hair. “Hot dogs and fries. Hope you’re hungry.”

  I felt the scoff come out before I even planned it. Tilting my head toward her, my eyes flashed. “Hot dogs? Fries?” I asked.

  “You have a problem with that?” Marnie asked, always prepared for a fight. She dangled this in front of me, like a worm for a fish, waiting for me to strike. Then, she could lure me in. Use my anger as some kind of example.

  It was disgusting.

  Rachel popped into the door, giving an unfriendly wave to Greg, who was plastered across the couch. His belly was large, almost bouncing as he gruffed a ‘hello’ to my daughter. I felt my blood continue to burn.

  “So you’re heading back to Frisco this week?” Marnie asked me, cracking the door a bit more. “You’re back, what. Sunday?”

  “That’s right,” I said. I’d been over this with her four times now. “Big meetings with some investors. Rachel has a test in English and in Social Studies. She’ll tell you about it. Make sure you listen.”

  Marnie had a hard time being a mother. Her selfishness didn’t play well into it, incidentally. What a huge shock.

  Greg lurched up from the couch, taking up space beside Marnie in front of the door. I inhaled the scent of hot dogs and fries and felt my face begin to scrunch with anger. Hold back. Hold back, I thought.

  But I had to say something.

  “I’m trying to keep her on a healthy diet,” I began, my nostrils flaring. “Her anxiety goes through the roof if she eats too much junk food.”

  Marnie would know that if she paid even an ounce of attention. Each time Rachel got back from being with Marnie for more than just a few days, her body seemed bloated and fatigued. It had been when I got back from San Francisco a few days before. She was no longer the happy girl I’d dropped off. She didn’t want to run around in the back yard with me. She didn’t laugh with me till her gut burst. She sat like a lump. Like Greg.

  “Broccoli. Chicken. Rice. Things like that,” I continued. “Not hot dogs. Not fries.”

  “It’s meat and potatoes,” Marnie said, snorting. “We were raised on meat and potatoes.”

  “Is that really your argument for serving our daughter hot dogs?” I asked.

  “It’s a good argument,” Marnie said. “Now, run along and go to your little tech meetings. We all know they’re more important to you than Rachel is.”

  “That’s just not true,” I began, my voice rising in volume. “Jesus Christ, Marnie. All I ask is you don’t make a lump out of our daughter. Goodness knows I don’t want her to turn into someone like you.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d said it out loud—all the things I’d been holding back since I’d first began this ‘single dad’ status. Marnie’s bottom lip began to tremble after the insult, making her look meek and insecure. Greg, ever the upstanding gentleman, bucked between Marnie and I, trying to raise himself to be as tall as me, despite being under six feet.

  “That’s not how you talk to my wife,” he stammered.

  “This is none of your business,” I told him, searching behind him, on the hunt for Rachel. Where had she disappeared? Could she hear this fight?

  “It is my damn business. This is my house,” Greg bellowed.

  He had a point, but I didn’t give a shit. I slotted myself between him and the door, entering without being asked to. I found myself in the mess of their foyer, gazing at Rachel’s backpack, which she’d flung at the base of the staircase.

  “Rachel?” I yelled out. “Can you come back down here for a second?”

  “Tyler. Listen to Greg,” Marnie began her voice a whine. “And get out of here. Just go back to Silicon Valley and leave us be.”

  “Not until you get my daughter something better to eat,” I demanded. It was no longer about the food. Maybe it wasn’t even about Greg and Marnie. I was enraged, and I couldn’t pinpoint precisely why. I worked so fucking hard to be a good father, to be an organized and centered partner. And here I was, losing my mind over a few hot dogs.

  “Fine, fine,” Marnie said, stomping into the kitchen. “I think we have some fruit—“

  “Dammit, Marnie. Why can’t you just—“

  But Greg pounded over to me, then, his fists raised toward my face. He was huffing madly, like a bulldog. “Say it,” he growled. “Say wha
t you were going to say. Insult my wife. I fucking dare you.”

  Marnie quivered near the door. I flashed her a half-confident smile, knowing she remembered me from my university days—when I’d been the strongest guy in my fraternity house, able to blast in somebody’s nose if I was dared. And I often was, in the heat of drunkenness, during those raucous university nights.

  I raised my fists in answer, making Marnie cry out. She waved her hands madly, her face scrunching into something like a root vegetable. Had that really been the woman who’d birthed Rachel?

  “STOP IT!” she cried. “I swear to God, Tyler, if you hit Greg, I’ll find a way to take Rachel away from you for good. Full time. I promise.”

  I felt a twinge in my heart after the words spilled from her lips. Slowly, yet surely, I drew my arms back down to my sides, allowing my nostrils to flare out in rage. Jesus. She’d never been so drastic in her threats before, and I knew that the mother always had the upper hand in the courts. If Marnie said I was doing anything out of line, she really could have Rachel full time. No matter how much Rachel and I kicked and screamed about it, Rachel would have to hang her hat in that trash house day in and day out.

  I had to be on my best behavior.

  “Fine,” I retorted, stretching my palms skyward. “But if you don’t start straightening up, I’ll tell the courts what you’re up to.”

  “Great. You have a really wonderful argument, Tyler,” Marnie said, sounding sarcastic. “A hot dog argument. Really great. All the while you’re raising your fists to Greg. Wonderful. I’m sure that will work out just splendidly for you.”

  I left and strutted toward my truck. As I flung myself into the vehicle, I glanced upward, toward Rachel’s room—which I’d never actually been allowed to see. She peered down at me, waving sadly, tears glinting in her eyes.

  “I’ll see you on Sunday,” I mouthed to her, feeling my heart stab in my chest. “I promise.”

 

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