Single Dad's Nightmare (Finding Single Dads Book 1)

by Sam Destiny

  When had Jacky and I become two people just sharing a house, and why hadn’t I seen it before? Was I just lying to myself about the past to make me feel better about the future?

  God, I was exhausted. Sally’s nightmares had taken on a new level and she was hardly asleep before the screaming started. Guilt about the fact Clare had to deal with that tonight nearly killed me, but I needed to get out.

  We’d agreed that I’d pick up Sally in the morning. Maybe I’d manage to drink myself into oblivion to not wake up until noon.

  When the doorbell rang, I forced myself to my feet, wondering who the hell would show at eight o’clock on a Friday night.

  I opened the door, seeing Clare standing there. Worry shot through my body, which she must have sensed because she lifted her hands in a pacifying gesture.

  “Sally’s fine, playing with Lacrosse right now, but I need to talk to you.”

  She brushed past me, walking five steps into the hallway, then turned. “Listen, nothing I say now changes the fact that I’ll watch Sally today or any other day. I just…” She rubbed her forehead, her keys jingling in her hand. I was sure she hadn’t locked her doors, she never did, but it seemed that she felt the need to keep her fingers occupied.

  There was distress on her face, and she still looked pale. I closed the distance between us. When I reached out, she stepped back, avoiding my hand. “What is it, Clare?”

  Her emerald eyes lifted, holding my gaze as she inhaled deeply, as if steeling herself. “There’s no way I saw this coming, Dale, and I don’t think you did, either, but… I’m pregnant. And since I only slept with you, I wanted you to know. I told my doctor we used condoms, but she insists they can sometimes move or have tiny imperfections you don’t see. Trust me, it was not in my plan. However, I realize I should’ve been honest with you weeks ago.”

  I would’ve interrupted had I actually found words, but this totally caught me off-guard and my world titled. This couldn’t be happening. It just wasn’t possible.

  “More honesty? I’m not sure I can handle it,” I muttered, no longer looking at her. She stepped forward and cupped my cheek, touching my lips with her thumb in a gesture so tender, I wanted to drown in it. Instead, though, I grabbed her wrist.

  “I didn’t want our late nights to stop. I wanted them to increase, to change into something more. I don’t know anything about you, other than you’re either an incredible dad or a bitter, lonely man, but I couldn’t care less. I want to get to know you, want to see where this can go. I’ve wanted that since the night you told me we couldn’t do it anymore.”

  I coughed out a bitter laugh. “Right, Clare… I’m sure that’s what you wanted back then, not just suddenly because you found out you’re expecting.” I bit back words about not being sure the baby was mine because, hell, I’d never seen her with another man. I didn’t think she was a woman who just went around blackmailing people for no reason. I wanted to lash out, give a voice to my confusion. Thankfully, part of my brain was still working enough to point out I shouldn’t burn bridges while being emotional.

  She shook her head, clearly hurt, but obviously determined to not give up so easily. “No, and you know it. I saw the way you looked at me, felt the way you held me that night, Dale. There was more between us. You’re just scared, but that’s okay. So am I.”

  “I’m not scared, Clare!” I roared. “What I am is not ready to have a family with another woman. I don’t want another child. You and I don’t even like each other. You’ve tried to hit me with plates more times than I can count, and—”

  The angry tears springing into her eyes made me stop abruptly. I’d never seen her truly angry. The coldness of her expression, those full lips drawn into a tight line, her body vibrating with unspoken words… This was a woman who’d literally have your balls.

  “You’re a coward, Dale. I have no idea why you are so afraid of admitting that you like me, for fuck’s sake. A guy who didn’t care wouldn’t have come to help me when I was throwing up, and he most certainly wouldn’t have cleaned up after me, but you did. You even came to check on me afterward.”

  “I wanted sex.”

  She shook her head. “You’re a liar. I just can’t decide if you actually believe what you say or are just trying to make me believe it.”

  I didn’t reply, letting her come to her own conclusions. Truth was, I was terrified. I couldn’t go through another birth, another childhood, another family life only to have constant fear I’d lose Clare the same way I’d lost Jacky.

  Worse, I couldn’t see myself agreeing to have that child and getting to know Clare—all of her—only to realize she was nothing like I thought.

  “You’re not having that baby, are you?”

  She blinked slowly, as if I had somehow spoken a foreign language, then she stepped back and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “I will have that child with or without you, Dale, but should you decide you don’t want any part in it, I will respect that. I won’t ask for child support, and I definitely won’t ask for help or advice. The cards are on the table. Go and enjoy your date or whatever it is you and your friends have planned.”

  She shouldered past me, my arm stinging where she’d been rougher than she should’ve been, and the screen door fell shut behind her. I stayed in the hallway for longer than I thought, only startling from my thoughts when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Cane’s name popped up on the screen and I lifted the phone to my ear. “I’m on my way. Order me two whiskeys. I need them. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Done deal,” my best friend replied and we hung up.

  I called a cab, glad that it was still early enough to get one on a Friday night, and grabbed my keys. Waiting, I couldn’t help but wonder where exactly I’d gone wrong. I thought about the condoms I’d thrown away and if I’d noticed anything weird about them, but I knew that while they were pretty safe protection, nothing was a hundred percent.

  God, another baby…

  I shook my head, my chest aching. I knew what my mind was saying, wanting me to feel, but my heart sounded so much louder, thudding angrily in my chest. I had no idea what it was trying to tell me, but decided that for the ten-minute ride to the bar, I’d allow myself to imagine what it would be like to be part of Clare’s and the child’s life.

  God, it was too easy, seeing myself getting up in the middle of the night because the little one would cry. I’d kiss the side of Clare’s head…

  Holy shit, I need to stop this right now.

  The problem was, once I’d allowed the first thoughts to seep in, I couldn’t stop more from coming.

  I’d seen a few true smiles on Clare’s face and imagined how she’d hold the child, beaming up at me. The way she’d touched me in the hallway had been too tender, too intimate, and I knew she was right.

  I’d felt the change in her, in me. I’d been too scared to acknowledge it, so I’d called it off. I wasn’t man enough to admit I was ready to jump in.

  I feared what that would imply. Damn, I didn’t even know how to properly court a woman. Yes, we’d fucked, but other than that, we’d never been close. I wanted to take her out on a date, but that wouldn’t happen because I couldn’t trust anyone else to watch Sally.

  Hell, what kind of asshole did it make me to expect and trust Clare enough to watch my daughter after what I’d said to her, yet fear she’d screw me over?

  I couldn’t wait until that first sip of whiskey hit my lips, hopefully helping me forget my dilemmas for at least one night.

  I could always make a decision tomorrow. Or the day after. Or the day after that. After all, Clare had made it clear she was going to have that baby, so I could wait a little longer to think about what my future held.

  CLARE

  It was hard to not think about being pregnant. It was also hard to not think about the fact that Dale had clearly rejected me. The anger on his face hadn’t taken me by surprise. The fact he expected me to give up this baby had.
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br />   I’d wanted one, but not like this, not with someone who wasn’t by my side. I wanted to be a mom for a child who would grow up in a family. I wanted a guy who would be there when I first started doubting myself, who’d hug me and tell me everything would be okay.

  Most of all, I’d wanted to be prepared for the news. Condoms had never failed me before, and I was sure I’d have known if it would’ve broken. The excuse of it shifting was bullshit, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t carrying the proof inside me.

  Hell, I hadn’t even thought about the possibility because I knew we’d always used one and my sickness had lasted a relatively short time. The only thing that had worried me was missing my period. When I told my doctor that, she’d smiled, run some tests, and here we were.

  It was half past two. While Sally slept, I was wide awake because I’d napped with her after she’d woken up at ten, screaming. I listened for every sound, worried she’d wake again. Yet when the screen door screeched and closed softly, I knew Dale hadn’t stuck to the plan of leaving his daughter with me for the night.

  Or maybe he’d reconsidered after everything I’d told him.

  I stood and met him in the door to the living room. The smell of alcohol hit me before he even stepped close, the soft swaying of his shadow making it obvious he was more drunk than I’d seen before.

  “You need to lock your doorssss,” he slurred, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Go home. I’ll bring Sally over after we have breakfast and—”

  “I’m ssssorry, Clare.” I shook my head. I didn’t want his apology. “I’m ssssorry for what I ssssaid earlier. I don’t know why, but you move me. You couldn’t irk me the way you do if you weren’t sssspecial. I want to be with you, Clare. I ssssaw you making pancakessss in my kitchen.”

  I had no idea where that came from, but the hope in his voice was endearing. “Pancakes?”

  “In my mind. I could ssssee it. You. Me. Ussss. I want it.”

  He reached for me, seeming more sure than I thought possible, and I let him, my treacherous heart ready to forgive him.

  “Lemme hold you tonight.”

  Oh god, worst idea ever. “You’re drunk, and you’ll regret that come morning. No. Sleep on it and—”

  He interrupted me with a kiss that curled my toes and made my heart weep with its sweetness. He held me as if I were breakable, then rested his forehead against mine. “I’m jusssst a little drunk.”

  The whiskey on his breath told a different story.

  “Dale…”

  “Pleasssse, Clare. Jusssst let me hold you through the night. Keep you in my armssss. Pleasssse.”

  I wanted it so much, I could already feel his arms wrapped around me, his heart beating under my ear. “No walking out in the morning, Dale. If you do, I’m never letting you back in again. No running after you wake up.” How stupid was I, letting him promise me that when he was intoxicated? However, I hoped, begged, prayed his heart was actually in on the decision and that his mind might catch up in the morning.

  “No running.” He pulled me closer again, his lips brushing over my cheek and neck, then he nudged me. “Lead the way.”

  We both knew he knew the way, but I stepped aside, telling him I needed to lock the doors first. He smirked.

  “I’ll wait.”

  There was part of me that wondered if he’d meant it, the holding, or if he’d just been trying to seduce me, but when we reached the bedroom, he took off his pants, socks, and shirt—he was a little unsteady, but still somewhat sexy—and sat down on the bed, drawing me to him after I’d rushed through my nighttime routine.

  He gathered me in his lap, kissing my shoulder, whispering my name over and over until I silenced him with my lips on his.

  Pushing him back until he was lying down, I nudged him a little, glad when we were under the covers together. He pulled me close, my head resting over his heart just the way I’d imagined it.

  “I missssed this…holding a ssssweet-ssssmelling woman, feeling her breathe with me,” he muttered into my hair.

  As much as I wanted to stay awake, wanted to soak this up, I couldn’t deny that his beating heart started lulling me to sleep faster than I could imagine.

  I felt him brush his fingertips over my arm and through my hair as I started to drift off. The feeling was nice, sweet, and gentle. I was sure he murmured a few things into my hair, too, but I couldn’t make them out.

  I was somewhat surprised that he wasn’t asleep yet. I was used to men passing out the moment their heads hit the pillow, but Dale clearly didn’t fall under that category.

  “Night,” I muttered, or maybe I only thought that. I had no idea, but the next thing I knew, the sun shone into my bedroom. Smiling, I turned to my side.

  No Dale.

  I looked around the room. Empty.

  For a moment, I was sure I’d only dreamed his presence, but when I turned my head into the pillow he’d slept on, his cologne was unmistakable.

  The thought jolted me out of bed. I slipped a robe over my nightie, then checked the guest bedroom. Sally was gone, her bed a mess, almost as if she had to leave it in a rush.

  Listening for a second, I only heard silence. My heart beat out of my chest as I made my way down the stairs.

  Nothing.

  There wasn’t even a note, and I was certain about that because I searched every surface, even walking back to the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!

  I couldn’t stop thinking that same word over and over again as I went to the front door. I hesitated, my hand on the knob, then decided against unlocking it. This house no longer had an open-door policy. There weren’t going to be any more second or third chances, no matter how wrong it had been for me to set the ultimatum last night. He’d heard me, and I knew he’d been lucid enough to understand what I said.

  I locked the back door, too, knowing Dale had probably taken that route to escape.

  Once I made myself some tea and stared at the cookie dough I still had in the fridge, I decided to go back to baking—and let my tears run free.

  After today, there’d be no more tears for Dale and the future we would never have.

  DALE

  “Do you have everything, Sally?”

  We were running late, which seemed to be a pattern lately, and Sally had been dragging her feet more than usual.

  “Can I see Clare this afternoon, Dad?” she asked. I couldn’t look at her as I shook my head.

  “We’ll be coloring together, remember? Then you have a dentist appointment, too. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  It was Wednesday, three days after I’d woken up next to Clare. I had every intention of not leaving her bed until she’d given me a smile, then remembered I had a friend coming over to fix my washing machine. It was a piece of crap at the best of times, but because I didn’t want to spend hundreds on repairs only to buy myself a new machine, he’d agreed to come by early Sunday morning to look at it before taking his wife and kids somewhere.

  Granted, it had been shitty timing, but also my salvation. I’d remembered Clare’s ultimatum, but I’d also felt a twinge of worry and panic when I woke up next to her.

  The thing was, if I didn’t get blackout drunk, I usually only needed a few hours of sleep before I was wide awake again, and that Sunday morning had been no exception.

  However, feeling her body against mine, I’d found myself utterly at peace, unable to remember when I’d last felt something like that. It had freaked me out so much, my washing machine had been the perfect excuse to vanish, grabbing a very sleepy Sally and leaving Clare’s home.

  John had appeared not ten minutes later. I’d kept myself busy by helping him, then making a big breakfast for Sally, all without looking at the house next door.

  By evening, I’d talked myself into even more of a panic, thinking Clare was going to be furious and it would be better to give her some time to cool off.

  Monday had been busy. After doing so
me much-needed clothes shopping for Sally, we got home at eight, I gave her a quick dinner, then tucked her into bed—only to rock her through the night, crawling out of her bed at five to start the day all over again.

  Tuesday, I’d picked her up from daycare, had pizza for dinner, then settled in to watch TV with her. Both of us had been too exhausted to do anything, even though Clare wasn’t far from my mind.

  In bed this morning, after another short night and hardly three hours of sleep, I’d convinced myself that talking to Clare now wouldn’t be good because it had been three days of silence on my part. I knew I should’ve gone to see her right after John had left.

  I was in love with my infuriating neighbor, but still couldn’t face her because all my apologies suddenly seemed hollow.

  “When will I see Clare again? I haven’t played with Lacrosse in forever, and I sleep so much better after she sings to me,” my daughter announced, making me pause.

  Something had been nagging me ever since I’d picked Sally up from the bed in Clare’s spare room, and only now did it hit me that we’d slept the whole night. Sally hadn’t woken, screaming for someone to come save her from the shadows.

  She was right. She’d slept much better there. Still kneeling on the floor where I tried to tie her shoes—if only my stiff fingers would cooperate—I looked up at her.

  “You’re right. Why is that?” I had my assumptions, but I wondered how her youthful mind saw it.

  “I don’t know. When she sings, it makes me all warm inside and I feel cuddly. Mom used to sing to me. It sometimes reminds me of that.”

  I lowered my head again. It was a mind thing, her thinking of her mom when Clare sang. Since most of her nightmares were about Jacky, I wasn’t surprised a woman singing her to sleep helped.

  “Clare doesn’t sound like your mom, sweetheart,” I whispered, wondering if I should even say that.