So Wrong (Heart 0f Hope Book 3) Page 2

  When I was done meeting with Mrs. Anderson, I loaded Maisie into the old Volvo I bought at her father’s encouragement when he hired me to babysit Maisie after school and as needed.

  “The old Volvos are like tanks. I’ll feel better about you driving with Maisie in that over another car,” he’d said.

  My Volvo looked like a tired old box, but it ran well and insurance on it was low, so I didn’t complain. A man like Dylan, young, ridiculously handsome, and rich, should have been driving a sports car, but he drove an old Volvo too. He lived modestly, belying his wealth built from a chain of gyms and real estate investments.

  “That’s why my wife left,” he’d once told me. “She thinks I’m a miser. ‘Why have all that money if we can’t have fun with it?’ she’d said.”

  Personally, I could think of all sorts of ways to have fun with Dylan that didn’t require money. Sure, I was a virgin and had no experience in sex, but I’d read romance and erotica, and had a good imagination. I had fun for free many times alone in the bathtub or in my bed simply thinking about Dylan.

  Maisie and I stopped at the grocery store, where I bought all the ingredients for brownies and then I drove her home. I parked in my driveaway, which conveniently was next to Dylan’s driveway. I’d first met him last year when I and two of my college girlfriends rented the house next to his, which he also happened to own.

  “Brownies have sugar. My daddy won’t think they’re healthy,” Maisie said as she pulled a chair to the counter where I organized the ingredients.

  “These are for your party tomorrow, so I think it will be okay.”

  He’d never gotten upset at me for baking with her. He just didn’t want her to get too used to desserts. I respected his wishes, usually. In my mind, a little treat now and then wasn’t bad.

  We mixed and stirred, and in a few minutes we had our batter in the oven.

  “Can we play a game?” Maisie asked as I turned the oven timer on.

  “Yes. What do you want to play?” I looked down at her. She was the perfect mixture of her dad and mom. She had dark hair as they both did, her mom’s striking blue eyes, and Dylan’s wonderful smile. She was sweet like him too.

  I was all for women pursuing their dreams, but I couldn’t understand how Veronica, Dylan’s ex, could leave him and Maisie to be a model. She and Dylan seemed to get along all right. Twice in the last year, she’d been in New York with enough free time to visit with Maisie. I suspect she and Dylan engaged in a little horizontal play as well, but within a few days she was off to Rome or Paris or wherever models went, leaving a perfect man and child behind. If they were mine, I’d never leave.

  I shook my head free of those thoughts. They weren’t mine. They’d never be mine. I needed to figure out a way to stop my brain from sometimes drifting into fantasyland about them.

  “Candyland,” Maisie decided.

  “Fun! Why don’t you get it out and set it up on the dining table?” I smiled like it was the most fun idea ever, when in truth, I’d be happy to never play that game again. There was nothing wrong with it. For kindergarteners it was perfect, as it didn’t require reading or math. But I’d played that game so many times; not just with Maisie, but also with other children I babysat back home in Brooklyn where I grew up.

  “”Kay.” She rushed out of the kitchen toward her bedroom.

  While she got the game ready, I went through the refrigerator looking for what I’d make her for dinner. Dylan usually got home around seven, which was too late for Maisie to eat, so I made her dinner. Most times, I made enough for Dylan too. I figured it would give him more time to spend with Maisie in the evenings if he didn’t have to worry about feeding himself.

  We played a game of Candyland and then took the brownies out of the oven to cool. I was able to convince her to go out into the backyard to play instead of more Candyland. We played superheroes until she saved me from the evil bad guy, and then I went in to make her dinner while she played with craft dough.

  I was pulling roasted vegetables from the oven when the sound of the door opening and shutting echoed.

  “Daddy!” Maisie called out with excitement.

  “Hey, lazy Maisie.” His deep baritone voice reached me in the kitchen. I checked my watch. It was almost five thirty.

  I exited the kitchen. “You’re home early,” I said when I saw him. I’d been working for Dylan for nearly a year, so you’d think by now I’d be used to seeing him. But every time I took in his t-shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, the fine ass filling his jeans, not to mention the sizable mound under his zipper, I nearly swooned. When he’d smile at me while holding Maisie, I did swoon.

  “Yep. I have a new manager at the local gym, and my operations person for the company is back from maternity leave, so I should have some more time for this little peanut.” He lifted Maisie up and blew a raspberry on her belly.

  “Daddy.” She laughed, and the sound of it along with the scene was too sweet. I felt a bit like an intruder.

  “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Maisie, why don’t you set a place for your dad?”

  “”Kay.” She wriggled as he put her down and ran past me into the kitchen.

  “How was the day?” he asked me.

  “Good.”

  He sniffed the air. “I think I smell baked sugar.”

  I laughed. “Brownies. They’re for Maisie’s class party tomorrow for the last day of school. Will you be able to come?”

  Dylan was a hard worker, often putting in long days, but he never missed an activity of Maisie’s. “Absolutely.”

  Maisie rushed back into the room. “I got you the Mickey fork, Daddy.”

  “I love that guy,” he said with a wink to his daughter. He looked at me. “Why don’t you stay?”

  “Oh, it’s okay.” I waved his invite away even though I really wanted to stay.

  “It doesn’t feel right that you cook for us but don’t eat.”

  “Stay and eat,” Maisie said. “I’ll get you the Donald fork.” She ran past me into the kitchen again.

  “You can’t turn down the Donald fork,” he said with a smirk.

  “I guess I’ll stay then.” It was really pathetic how much I liked it whenever he’d ask me dine with them on nights like this. I felt like a dumb school girl wanting whatever crumbs of attention Dylan would throw my way.

  “Yay!” Maisie put the fork on the table. “Daddy, we played Candyland and I drew this picture. It’s of Little Bear and his mommy. His mommy lives with him, not like my mommy.”

  The spark in Dylan’s eyes dimmed. “Where’s Little Bear’s daddy?”

  “He’s …” Maisie’s brow furrowed. “Where is he, Tessa?”

  “That’s a good question. The book doesn’t say.”

  Dylan shook his head. “Dads don’t get enough attention in kids’ materials.”

  He was right, and I felt guilty that I hadn’t more actively sought out books with dads. “You should write one,” I said.

  “I’ll write one, Daddy.” Maisie grabbed her paper and crayons and started coloring.

  A few minutes later, we were at the table eating chicken and vegetables.

  “So, tomorrow is the last day of school. How does it feel, Mais?” he asked.

  “Good. After tomorrow I’m in first grade.” She held up her index finger.

  “You need to stop growing up so fast,” he said with a sweet smile at Maisie.

  “I can’t help it, Daddy.” She held her hands up in a shrug.

  “How about you, Tessa? What grade do you go into next year?” he asked, taking a bite of the vegetables.

  I gave a little shrug as I pushed my food around my plate. “Eighteenth? If I go.”

  “If?”

  “Eighteen!” Maisie’s eyes widened.

  I didn’t want to go into my financial woes. “Just need to secure tuition funds.” To avoid going into detail, I took a bite of my chicken.

  He frowned. “Is that a real problem?”

 
I shook my head. “The problem is, what are Maisie and I going to do all summer?”

  “I want to go to the pool,” Maisie said.

  “So, you’re still good to watch her this summer?” Dylan watched me over the rim of his glass of water.

  I nodded. “Yes. Maisie and I are going to have a blast, aren’t we sweet pea?”

  “Yep.” Maisie chased a brussels sprout around her plate with her fork.

  After dinner, I offered to do the dishes while Dylan played Candyland with Maisie. When I was done, Dylan walked me to the door, and watched as I made my way next door to my house. He always watched to make sure I got home okay, a gesture that wasn’t needed, and yet I found it completely endearing.

  “How’s the single hot dad?” Corrine, one of my roommates asked as I closed and locked the door behind me.

  “Still hot and single,” I said.

  “I don’t know why you don’t jump him,” said Allison, my other roommate. She was sitting on the couch painting her toenails a bright pink.

  “Because I don’t want the embarrassment that would come with him rejecting me.” I sat on the couch next to Allison and looked over at Corrine, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table doing some sort of formulas for her stats final.

  “I doubt that would happen. You’re pretty with a good body.” Allison set her nail polish in the table.

  “Remember, he used to sleep with Veronica Tisdale. There’s no way I compare to her.”

  “He’s a man. I’m not sure they’re that picky,” Corrine said.

  “Gee thanks,” I said with a laugh.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’d still jump him. I bet he’s good in bed.” Allison waved her hands over her toes to help dry the polish.

  “He doesn’t seem to get out much.” Corrine put her pencil down. “Does he?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I only babysit when he’s working. I’ve never seen him on a date. I think he’s too focused on raising Maisie.”

  “He probably gets his jollies off with a woman at the gym,” Allison said.

  I frowned. “You think?”

  “He has to sometime, doesn’t he? Don’t men’s balls shrivel up or something if they don’t blow their load every now and then?”

  I knew Allison was kidding, but I still said, “You’ve been letting Keith manipulate you into bed again, haven’t you?”

  She gave me a coy smile. “Maybe. He’s good at it.”

  “Manipulating or in bed?” Corrine asked.

  “Both.” Allison waggled her eyebrows.

  That night in bed, I thought about what Dylan might do if I came on to him. He was nice to me, but that didn’t mean he thought I was attractive. He’d probably act flattered, but inside be horrified. He was a man who’d had lots of sex with Veronica Tisdale, one of the most beautiful women in the world. I could imagine all the ways they’d had sex. With me, he’d have someone who had no clue what they were doing. Sure, there was an idea that men liked virgins, but I wasn’t sure that was true. Men liked creativity in bed more, I was sure, and that I didn’t have.

  With a sigh, I rolled over and went to sleep. At least I could have him in my dreams.

  2

  Dylan

  I watched as Tessa disappeared into the house next door. I was troubled by the idea that I might lose her as a babysitter for Maisie. It was going to happen someday, but I thought I had at least one more year of her help. The thought of having to find another suitable person to help me was only just one part of it. The truth was, I liked being around Tessa. On nights like tonight, when she stayed and ate dinner with us, I felt like I was giving Maisie a real family experience. Granted, Tessa wasn’t Maisie’s mother or my wife, but she fit with us somehow. Since I didn’t plan to ever marry again, nights like tonight were the only times Maisie would have something like that.

  Tessa was smart, positive, and nurturing to Maisie, which I knew Maisie needed from a woman. Since her mother was off living her best life, Tessa was the next best thing to a mother figure, and she did it well. The only problem with Tessa was all the things I appreciated about her. Because she was so perfect as a person, wrapped up in a beautiful face and sexy body, it was sometimes annoying to have to deal with my libido around her. Tessa had that sexy girl-next-door look with her golden-red hair, green eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked sweet and innocent, which made my attraction to her all the more disturbing. Adding the fact that she was only twenty-three so, I felt like a dirty old man. Granted, I wasn’t that much older than her in years, but in life experiences, I was ancient. A woman like her would become a successful teacher, find a nice man to marry, have a few kids, and live a happy life. She would have all the things I couldn’t give her.

  As for me, until Maisie, I didn’t really know what happiness was. I thought I had it with her mother, Veronica, but as it turned out, Maisie and I weren’t enough for her. It didn’t take a shrink to tell me that marrying Veronica and having a child by twenty-two was an attempt to create the family I hadn’t had while growing up. My mother did the best she could, but as it turned out, her best was subpar. She struggled financially, and always sought out a man fix her money woes and unhappiness. As a result, I had a string of stepfathers who at best ignored me and at the worst, used their fists on me.

  I shook my head of my own dysfunctional childhood. I wasn’t able to give Maisie the ideal family situation, but she was safe and happy and loved.

  “Come on Miss Maisie, time for a bath.” I shut the front door and scooped Maisie up.

  “Can I have bubbles?”

  “Two bubbles,” I said, walking toward her bathroom.

  She laughed. “Daddy!”

  “What?” I grinned at her. Yep, we may not have had a traditional family, but no child was ever loved as much as my Maisie.

  A few minutes later she was in the tub, which was filled mostly with bubbles. I sat on the toilet seat, playing a guitar as Maisie and I sang old folk song, while she played with her bath toys. I washed her hair, and then got her out of the tub. After getting her pajamas on, getting her hair combed and dried, she was in bed. I sat next to her, reading a few books.

  “It’s time to go to sleep,” I said setting the last book on her side table. “You have a big day at school tomorrow.”

  “Will you come to my class party?” Maisie asked as she snuggled into her bed.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” I kissed her forehead.

  “I hope Tessa can be my teacher next year too.” Maisie yawned and turned to her side.

  I was sure that wouldn’t be the case, but didn’t say that. “That would be nice.”

  “If you married her, she could be my mommy.”

  My heart clenched, partly in sadness for Maisie, but also in resentment at her mother’s selfishness. “Honey, your mom will always be your mommy. Nothing will change that.”

  “But she’s not here.”

  “No, baby, she’s not. And Tessa is very good to us. We’re lucky to have her.” I patted her hand and then headed out of her room, turning off the light. Her nightlight cast a glow through her room. I took a second to admire my sweet girl, and then shut the door.

  I pushed away my anger at Veronica for not being the mother Maisie deserved, and instead went to my home office set up in the third bedroom of my home. I reviewed some paperwork from the gyms I owned, and then went through the financials of my rental properties. On paper, I was financially well-off, although many people wouldn’t know it based on how I lived. I could afford a larger home in the ritzy part of town and a fancy foreign luxury car, but I didn’t need them, so I didn’t have them. Maisie and I were quite comfortable in our three-bedroom cottage on a quiet family street. The basic Volvo got us where we needed to go safely and fit all the equipment we needed to get there. I had everything I needed, as did Maisie.

  After making sure my little empire was chugging along, I watched TV, and then with a final c
heck on Maisie, I went to my own bed.

  I woke at five the next morning, a habit I developed just after college when I read that most successful people woke up that early. Today I appreciated the extra time I had to myself before Maisie woke up to set my day on a positive path. I had a glass of water while my coffee brewed, and then I took a few moments out on our covered back porch to enjoy the quiet of the morning.

  I had a few pieces of exercise equipment there, so after drinking my coffee, I lifted weights, ran three miles on the treadmill, and did some yoga stretches. I’d do a more extensive workout at the gym later, but this got my blood going and woke me fully for the day.

  I got another glass of water while a second cup of coffee brewed. Coffee was my one vice. Sugar would be too, if I allowed it in the house. I knew Tessa thought I was too strict on that rule. I appreciated how she honored it most times, I thought as I saw the brownies on the counter. I liked how Tessa respected my rules, and at the same time would occasionally challenge them. It ensured I didn’t go overboard with Maisie. Tessa offered a good balance—a balance I’d lose if she was unable to continue to work for me after this summer.

  I grabbed my coffee and headed to my room to shower and get dressed for the day. As I passed my window, I opened the curtain to enjoy the sun as it slowly ascended and lit the room. My bedroom was along the side of the house, and looked out toward the kitchen of Tessa’s house. As perverted as it was, I never missed a chance to glance over to see if she was there.