Single Dad Next Door: A Fake Marriage Romance

“No. I know you don’t. That’s the problem. You want me to just waste away and spend your money. I never wanted that for myself and you guys never cared what I did want.”

“Honey,” says my mother. “Listen to yourself. You’re saying we didn’t care because we didn’t want you struggling away the best years of your life just to make enough money to buy a place like this?” she gestures toward my house without even looking.

“I’m saying you didn’t care because you never bothered to see that I’m not like either of you. This place is mine. I was proud as hell when I was able to buy it, okay? Maybe you can’t see that. Maybe it looks like a pile of sticks to you, but it’s mine, and I earned it. That means the world to me.”

My parents both focus their gaze somewhere behind me. I hear his footsteps and turn to see Reid approaching. The look on his face is not kind.

“You okay?” he asks, squeezing my shoulders and kissing my cheek.

His rough whiskers tickle my skin and the wonderful manliness of his smell fills my nose. In his arms and in his presence I feel safe. Protected. Whole.

“I’m okay,” I say softly, hoping I can make the words true if I try hard enough.

“We trusted you,” says my father.

“Yeah, well, I guess you can’t trust every asshole with greased hair and buttons on his shirt.”

My mother makes a shocked face and my father scowls. “I told your father we shouldn’t have come.”

My father shakes his head, looking at me sadly. “I wanted so much better for you, Sandra. So much better.”

They move like they’re about to get back in the car when Reid steps between my father and the door, planting a firm hand on the car and keeping my father from opening it.

“No,” says Reid. “You’re not leaving yet.”

My father actually tries to push past Reid, but he might as well be shoving against a tree for all the good it does. Reid waits patiently for my father to give up, straightening his suit and crossing his arms petulantly. My mother is halfway in the car, apparently frozen between her decision to get in or get out and try to help. She settles for something in between, peeking over the top of the car at the standoff between Reid and my father.

“You’re not leaving,” continues Reid, “until you have a chance to know what an amazing fucking daughter you have. Your daughter owns a bakery. I’m guessing you didn’t know that by the look on your face. Yeah, she owns her own business and she does a damn fine job of it too.

And you know what? She did it without your help. Do you even realize how incredible that is? Do you get how many people would take the easy handout you’re offering? You should be proud as fucking hell of your daughter for the woman she is. If you can’t see that, neither of you deserve to be here. So you can get in your fancy fucking car and go back to your bullshit excuse of a life.”

Reid practically shoves my father in the car and slams the door. My father starts the engine and hastily backs out, turning as quickly as he can and spinning the tires in his rush to get away from Reid and his anger.

I stand speechless, mouth open as I look at Reid, who is sucking in heavy breaths and frowning. He just defended me. No one has ever defended me, not like that, and especially not to my parents. I’ve always tried to stand up to them and get my point across to them, but it never worked. They never saw who I was or even listened to me. Even if a word of that didn’t sink in for them, I can’t stop hearing it all over and over again in my head.

“You really think all that?” I ask, smiling shyly.

“Every word of it.”

I kiss him then, with the fading afternoon sun warm against my neck and his body pressed to mine. His strong, possessive hands splay across my back, taking me in and making me feel small and vulnerable in all the best ways, in the ways that make me know I can let my guard down around him. I can be the girl I never got a chance to be. I can be vulnerable. I can be all the things I couldn’t because he’s here to protect me. To keep me safe and to care for me.

I kiss him knowing all of that is true down to the last syllable because I can feel it in his touch and see it in his eyes. And for the first time, I know with blinding certainty and without even the faintest glimmer of doubt that I want to have his baby. I hope beyond all hope that it’s already growing inside me, and if it’s not, I want to keep trying.

“Reid Riggins,” I say softly, pulling away and looking up into his eyes. “You might just be the man of my dreams.”

He smirks down at me. “Sweetheart, if I came out of your dreams, I’d hate to see your nightmares.”





19





Reid





Roman waits in the truck and listens to his songs about bears while I go to confront Alfred and Collette Williams, who are ordering around a small team of teenagers from town. The teens are bringing load after load of supplies out of the bed and breakfast from furniture to suitcases to floral arrangements. It’s all being packed into a semi-truck while Collette and Alfred watch, command, and don’t break a sweat.

“How long were you planning on staying?” I ask them, eyeing the ridiculous amount of stuff.

“You have some nerve to come here,” says Alfred.

“Yeah, get used to it,” I say. “You’re both making a mistake. You know if you leave now, you’re going to lose her.”

Collette sniffs derisively. “Sandra is losing herself. We’ve done all we can for her.”

“That’s what you think?” I ask. “All you’ve done is taken the satisfaction out of chasing her dream. You’ve made her feel like a fucking outcast. Like she’s some kind of slimy, lowlife person for wanting to make something out of herself.”

Alfred looks to the sky, holding his hands up as if asking for help from above. “Good God, man. You really don’t get it. Maybe to people like you in places like this, being a… a… baker,” Alfred finally spits out, as if even uttering the word offends his sensibilities. “Maybe that’s ‘making it’. But Sandra is better than that. She has millions of dollars waiting for her if she so much as asks. And she’s too headstrong to ask, so we’re forced to watch one of our own subject herself to this life.”

I huff a humorless laugh, nodding my head, finally understanding. “She doesn’t need you. Either of you. Fuck. I should’ve seen it sooner. Yeah,” I say spitting on the ground, inches from Alfred’s expensive shoes. “Why don’t you two get as fucking far from here as possible and don’t even think about coming back. She’ll be better off without you.”

I get back in the car and Roman looks at me from his carseat in the back. I eye him in the rearview and force a smile. “Ready to go home, Bud?”

“Why were you yelling, Daddy?”

I sigh. “Because someone I care a lot about deserves to be treated better than she is.”

“Who?”

“A good friend.”

Roman grins deviously. “You like Miss Sandra.”

I turn the car on and back out, grinning back at him. “Okay. Caught me.”

“I like her too. She’s pretty.”

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