The Daddy Dilemma: A Brother's Best Friend Enemies To Lovers Romance (Hot Daddy Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

  The Daddy Dilemma

  Hot Daddy Series #3

  Angel Devlin

  Tracy Lorraine

  Contents

  A Note

  Prologue

  1. Brandon

  2. Reese

  3. Brandon

  4. Reese

  5. Brandon

  6. Reese

  7. Brandon

  8. Reese

  9. Brandon

  10. Reese

  11. Brandon

  12. Reese

  13. Brandon

  14. Reese

  15. Brandon

  16. Reese

  17. Brandon

  18. Reese

  19. Brandon

  Epilogue

  Also By Angel & Tracy

  About Angel Devlin

  About Tracy Lorraine

  Copyright © 2019 by Angel Devlin

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing by Andie M. Long

  Cover design and formatting by Dandelion Cover Designs

  A Note

  Single Daddy Seduction is written in British English and contains British spelling and grammar. This may appear incorrect to some readers when compared to US English books.

  Prologue

  Brandon

  Two years ago

  “Brandon. You have huge sweat patches under your arms for fuck’s sake. Couldn’t you have cleaned up your act just for once? It’s my brother’s engagement party.”

  My best friend’s sister, Reese, stands with her hands on her hips, head tilted, as she looks over me with disdain. She’s always acted like a brat on the few occasions I’ve seen her before, but since she passed the bar and became a hotshot lawyer, she really seems to think she’s something. She’s something all right. An Ice Queen bitch.

  I give her what I hope is a withering look in return. “I’m well aware of that, Reese. I’m just hot. Something you’d probably not know about due to the vast layers of ice constructed around yourself.” I’m usually a nice guy but I don’t like being judged by someone who doesn’t even know me.

  “Hot is definitely not a word I imagine is usually associated with you. I don’t know how my brother manages to be near you without vomiting. You’re a slob.”

  “You’re a bitch. I can clean up, but can you thaw, Ice Queen?” I shout back.

  “Fuck you,” she says and stomps off. I’m not pleased at how I’ve just acted, but who is she to come over and pass judgement on me? She doesn’t know me. I’ve met her less than a handful of times. I get another beer from the bar and look around me. I watch Reese. She stops and talks to people but the smile she puts on her face never reaches her eyes and she keeps tidying up, taking empty glasses and plates over to the bar. What the fuck is she playing at? She sees me watching and slides two fingers up her cheek at me. Such a child. I walk over to the buffet table and pick up a sausage roll and then I eat it without a plate, watching the pastry flakes hit the floor with satisfaction. I can feel the burn of her stare and sure enough when I look at her, her gaze is zeroed in on me. If her eyes narrowed any more they’d just look like lines on her face.

  I sigh. This is a fucking drag and I’m bored. I can’t believe my best mate is any happier. The stupid things people do for love, like holding engagement parties in function rooms above noisy pubs. No thanks. And then their best mates have to come way, way, waaayyy out of their comfort zones to attend, and have to basically stand by themselves because they don’t know many people and the ones they do know are busy. Case in point, Jack’s parents had a messy divorce and both are present, slinging bitter looks at each other from across the room. It makes me wonder how Jack isn’t put off marriage for life, but as I watch him and his bride-to-be beaming at each other, I can see the true love pass between them both.

  I’m so happy for him but God, no thanks. I’ve had my heart broken once. Smashed to smithereens by a woman I’d thought was my everything. Now my heart is padlocked firmly shut, and I only have to see women like Reese to confirm that I’m better off alone. I pity the poor bloke who ends up with her. She’d be better off marrying a vacuum cleaner, because only some sucker would go there.

  God, it’s hot in here. I can feel my underarms getting wetter. I run a hand through my mid-length wavy hair. Yep, it’s wet through at the back. Reese is right. I am a slob. But she doesn’t know me, doesn’t know why I am like I am, and she has no fucking right to stand there and judge me, like I’m on trial for crimes against barbers.

  I stay another thirty minutes and then I say my goodbyes to Jack and his fiancée Rhian. I’m just at the door when she appears again.

  “For someone who can’t imagine why people want to be near me, you don’t seem to be able to keep away,” I snap.

  “I just want the satisfaction of shutting the door on you. You really ought to do something with your appearance.”

  “And you really need to do something with your personality.”

  “Bye, slob.”

  “Sit on one of your own icicles, Ice Queen.”

  I walk out without looking back and hope it’s a long time before I have to see Reese Connors again.

  1

  Brandon

  December

  “This is an intervention, mate.”

  The voice of my best mate, Jack, booms from about a foot away from me. Am I still asleep? Is this a dream Jack or a real Jack?

  I realise it’s a real Jack as I roll onto my back, a corner of something digging in my thigh painfully as I do so. Rubbing at my eyes, I sit up and squint. The bastard’s opened the curtains and winter sunshine lasers through my vision. I bet I have empty sockets now. Eyeballs disintegrated. What the fuck is digging in my leg? I reach down and unearth a pizza box from underneath me. I’m still wearing my uniform from LoCost, the bargain warehouse I work nights at as a manager. I feel hot and sweaty despite it being winter. Oh, that might be because I turned the thermostat up on my way in last night. I don’t think I’ll want to open my heating bill.

  “You awake yet?”

  I nod though I’m not sure it’s the truth. I watch as Aiden, my ex-housemate walks into the room. Ah, now I see how Jack got in.

  “Wassgoinnonn?” I mumble.

  “What’s going on, my friend, is that we’re taking you in hand. Enough is enough. You’ve been slobbing around for long enough and since Aiden left you’ve got a whole lot worse. I get married in a week’s time. A week. You will not spoil my bride’s Christmas Eve wedding by turning up looking like a hobo. We’re Queer Eye-ing you.

  That wakes me up. What the hell is that?

  I stare at him wide-eyed. “What does that mean? It sounds sexual. Anything weird should be happening to you at your stag do.” I startle as a thought comes to me. “Oh shit, is that tonight?”

  “Yes, it’s tonight. It’s in… let me see.” Jack looks at his watch. “Five hours time. Five hours to do something with you. Now Queer Eye, you muppet, is a Netflix show where five gay guys make people over. Clothes, hair, cooking skills, house, and life.”

  Now I’m starting to feel very worried about where this is headed. I think my head is where it’s headed.

  Aiden pipes up. “You’re needing someone to share with to pay half the rent when my notice period i
s paid up. I paid you until the end of January because moving out at Christmas sucks, I know, but you need to get yourself and this house in order.” He looks around the place taking in discarded beer cans, takeaway cartons, and is that an actual pair of my briefs? “No one is going to move in here.” He says the word like most people say the word Brexit, i.e. with high disdain and as if it’s the worst subject in the whole world.

  He hands me a coffee, one I thought he’d made for himself. Mmmm, he’s made it just as I like it. I miss Aiden making me coffee and it’s only been a couple of weeks since he moved out. He fell in love. Can’t blame him. Kaylie is lovely. I knew he wanted her before he did, the idiot. “How’s Kaylie?” I ask, taking a sip of the hot beverage.

  “We’re not here to talk about Kaylie. We are here for you and the clock is ticking. Get that down your neck, go get the quickest shower in history, and then we’re off to the centre of London, my friend, where you are booked to have your hair restyled, and we doing some clothes shopping. Oh and I saw your bank statement, so I know you’ve been saving your earnings since the end of time and have more than enough for some new threads. We’re buying you a whole new wardrobe including clothes for tonight. And I’ve also organised someone to come around later in the week to help you sort through this mess of a house. When New Year is out of the way, you get this place advertised, you hear? And you keep it tidy. We’ll be watching you.”

  Aiden points two fingers at his eyes, then at me and then back at himself.

  My mouth has fallen open. In all the time I house-shared with Aiden he moaned at me plenty, but then usually had a mad tidy up himself and just threw my shit in my room. But now he seems so… fierce.

  “But I like my hair,” I protest, holding onto my shoulder-length locks.

  “Nope. Goodbye to lanky locks, goodbye to the bird’s nest you have going on around your chin.” Jack has his hands folded across his chest in a ‘brook no argument’ stance. “Do what you like after the wedding, but you’re looking shipshape for my big day.”

  “I fully intended to shower for it.”

  “Nope, Reese is right. You need a tidy up.”

  My shoulders tighten. I might have known she’d be behind all this. I’ve not seen her since the engagement party. I’ll tolerate her at the wedding and then at the reception I’ll make sure I’m at the opposite end of the room. If she comes over passing judgement on me, I might just be tempted to stick the bride’s bouquet where the sun doesn’t shine. God, what is it about her? I’m the most easy-going person I know but she brings out my inner twat.

  My drink is taken out of my hand and I’m dragged off the sofa and pushed in the direction of the shower. My God, what is actually happening in my life right now? And do I have any clean towels?

  I’m sitting in a chair at the barbers while some bloke oohs and aahs while he runs his hands through my hair twisting it this way and that. Then his hands lift up. “Okay, I know what I’m doing here. We totally have a bit of a Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy going on under all this hair. I’m going to unearth him and you can thank me by giving me a huge tip. And if you don’t swing that way then money is also good.” He winks. My so-called friends are in hysterics.

  I don’t remember the last time I had short hair. I feel exposed and he’s not cut a single hair on my head yet. I’m only doing this for my best mate. Once his wedding is over, I can grow it all out again.

  The clippers come out and half an hour later I’m unrecognisable. My light brown hair is short and shaved at the sides. My beard is shaved so I now just have a dark scruff around my chin and above my lip. It’s all so… neat.

  I don’t realise I’ve said this out loud.

  “Exactly. That’s what we’re going for and what you need in all aspects of your life,” Jack says, sounding like he’s parroting what I imagine his sister said to him. “Neat and tidy. Now I’m booking you back in here the day before the wedding to make sure you’re still looking this way. But for now, let’s go get you some new clothes.”

  I follow them into a department store, where, to my embarrassment, they have booked a personal shopper to assist me. I’m given no say in the matter as a small fortune is hung on a side rail for me to purchase. Shirts, suits, shoes, new underwear, socks. You name it, it’s here. Then they take me for a manicure and pedicure. I’m. Going. To. Die. And now thanks to my lack of hair, my bright red cheeks are free for the beauticians to see.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, honey. We have men in here all the time. Manscaping is so in fashion right now.”

  If they’ve booked me in for a back, sack, and crack, I am out of here. I have limits. Aiden and Jack block the exit, smug smiles playing on their lips. They have, the bastards.

  I’m deposited back at my house after a much-needed couple of beers. I couldn’t face lunch. I lost my appetite around the same time I lost my arse hair. I feel like one of those cats with no fur.

  “Get some of those clothes on and we’ll see you at XCluSiv in an hour,” my ex-friends shout as they depart. “Oh and the cleaning service I booked work with hoarders, so don’t stress,” adds Aiden.

  The door bangs shut behind them and I take a seat at my kitchen table feeling utterly violated and vulnerable.

  After ten minutes of trying to process what just happened to me, I realise I’m down to fifty minutes to get ready, so I pick up some of the many bags and take them to my bedroom. I strip naked and stand in front of my bathroom mirror. A person I used to know stares back at me, though he’s a lot older than the one I remember. This man hasn’t been here for years, slowly let go as it became easier to escape from real life as much as possible. I’m glad they left me with the stubble as that’s the only thing along with a few fine lines that sets me apart from the man who dated Naomi, the man made to feel so insignificant he disappeared. I re-affirm my vow in front of the mirror that no woman will ever do that to me again.

  Maybe I have let myself go completely and maybe it really is time to try to do something. Aiden is telling the truth when he says I need to change my ways for a new housemate. I’ll dip a freshly pedicured toe in the water tonight and see how it goes.

  I put on the sharp grey suit trousers along with a pale white shirt shot through with a delicate grey stripe, and a black and grey tie. Shiny shoes. Brand new aftershave.

  I’m a brand-new Brandon.

  I call for a cab and I’m on my way.

  We drink and move on, drink and move on. We’re all hammered. We’ve dressed Jack in a pink tutu over his trousers and put him a ‘bride to be’ sash on. The women out tonight all seem full of questions. It’s been ridiculous. “Can you point me in the direction of the bar?” “Where did you get that gorgeous tie?” And they’re all touchy-feely: a hand at my back or on my chest while they fondle my tie. It’s just a bit of cloth for fuck’s sake.

  I complain to Aiden. “What is wrong with these women?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks and I explain.

  He places a hand over his face.

  “Fucking hell, Brandon. How long have you been out of the game, mate? They’re hitting on you. They don’t give a shit where you got your tie from. They just want it binding their hands together as you fuck them from behind.”

  I suddenly feel amazingly sober.

  They are. They’re hitting on me. I’m so far out of practice I haven’t even realised.

  Monday comes around and so does this organiser woman, Janet. She looks to be about forty and she sits with me at my kitchen table having taken a tour of the house. I’ll need to go to work soon so I’m hoping she’s not going to get too cosy here.

  “There’s a lot of clutter here, Brandon, and to me it seems like there’s an underlying theme of avoidant behaviour. Like you’re not facing up to things. Just like the barber revealed your face, it’s time for us to work through the house and reveal the new Brandon here too. Someone who drops their laundry in a basket and if he can’t switch a washing machine on regularly, uses a laundry and ironi
ng service. We’re going to find the real Brandon amongst all this chaos. Okay?”

  I nod, ignoring all this psychobabble she’s coming out with. If I keep the house clean for a few weeks I can get a new housemate. That’s all I’m bothered about.

  It’s a difficult week because every afternoon before work Janet is there asking me what clutter is for recycling, the bin, or to stay. But slowly the house is revealed and she has me invest in some new furniture and bedding for my room and even calls in a decorator.

  Jack comes to stay at mine the night before his wedding as he and Rhian live together and she’s getting ready at their place.

  We have a couple of beers.

  “I’m thinking I might regret getting you made over. You might outshine me on my big day.” He laughs.

  “Soon as this wedding is over, I’m just going to grow it all right back, you know that right?” I tell him.

  He squeezes the top of my arm. “No. Please don’t do that, Brandon. You look good, more than good, and the place looks great. It’s hard. Change is hard. I know that. But it really is time for this brand-new Brandon. Same fab personality, but, well, clean.”

  “Thanks.”

  He grins. “That’s what best mates are for.”

  He holds up his beer.

  “To our new futures. To my bride and to brand-new Brandon.”