Irresistible Daddies Series Box Set Page 6

  I admit that I’ve had some hang ups about being a father, after the horrible example mine showed. My mom split when I was only a toddler. I didn’t remember anything about her. I used to think that she was forced to leave, that she was a good person and that someday she would come back for me. And maybe she was, and maybe she did, if she’d lived long enough to get clean.

  My mom had been a heroin addict. My dad didn’t help, with his alcoholism and his abuse. No wonder she turned to drugs to handle the shitty situation she was in. I wasn’t sure if she had left just because she needed to get away from my dad, but couldn’t handle a kid on her own, or if she left in order to get herself into a better situation to get clean and then come back for me. I liked to pretend that it was the latter. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, especially since I couldn’t understand how any parent could abandon their child. The sad truth was, though, that I would never know for sure.

  But my dad - he sure made an impression. A fucking awful one. He had a temper and a fist that swung wide and hard.

  I had wondered for ages how I could possibly be a good father when I had that dipshit for an example while I was growing up. How could I possibly be better than him? What if I fell into bad habits, knowing nothing else, and ended up hurting my kids?

  I wouldn’t be responsible for the pain of another human being like that. Kids were innocent, to be protected, and I refused to continue the cycle of abuse and pain.

  While I was in college, though, a close friend of mine had recommended me to one of the on-campus therapists. David, my friend, had to practically drag me there. I’d dug my heels in the whole way, stubborn as a mule to the last. But once I’d gotten in there and I’d come to trust the therapist, I had opened up about a lot, and she’d really helped me come to terms with my parents and my past.

  It was thanks to her that I felt be a parent someday. Thanks to her that I felt like it was okay for me to want kids, and to look forward to having them.

  Now, I did want kids, and I was excited for that day. I couldn’t wait to take them to the park, to read to them my favorite books, and to introduce them to classic movies, and play board games with them, or go on vacations and day trips to the local islands just off the coast.

  But I couldn’t ever do that without a partner. I didn’t judge Veronica for doing it, in fact I felt it was very brave of her, but I personally couldn’t do that. I wanted to share my life with someone, and I wanted her to be the mother of my children.

  Veronica flipped to another page, her brow furrowed in the same way it would get in history class when she was focusing on a difficult test. And hey, no decision like this should be anything like taking a test in school.

  “Places like these really take all the fun out of reproduction, huh?” I teased, sitting down next to her. I pointed at the page in front of her. “And give you a real high expectation of people. How could anyone compete with that?”

  The guy she was looking at had gone to Yale and was a financial planner. Excellent genetics. He played squash, tennis, and golf and liked to go hiking in the Smoky Mountains in his spare time. He volunteered at the local youth center and started a charity for at-risk teens, and donated a hefty amount every year to the school district specifically for art classes.

  In other words, he sounded perfect.

  “I doubt that guy’s ever taken a sick day in his life,” I commented. “But the real question is, does he hog the blankets and snore a lot? Does he hate Mexican food?”

  Veronica laughed. She’d always had a weakness for enchiladas. “If only it said stuff like that on there.”

  “It’s the little things that really add up.”

  “If I’m dating the guy, maybe, but…”

  “Well whatever would annoy you about him just might come up in your kid and then that’ll annoy you, too. But don’t worry.” I nudged her playfully. “You’re in good hands with Prince Charming here.”

  “You heard Dr. Johnson. They only accept one percent of applications.”

  “Exactly. They’re all Prince Charmings. God only knows what a guy has to really be like to get in here… let’s see, look, another Ivy League, speaks ten languages, does sculpting in his spare time… and this guy wins baking competitions when he’s not training guide dogs for the blind and that’s just his weekend job, Monday to Friday he’s an award-winning journalist. Ooh his one is a historian who got his masters at Stanford.”

  “I think you could fit in with these guys here,” Veronica said thoughtfully, with a smile.

  I felt like I was staring at the moon - elusive, beautiful - and felt myself warming in my chest and radiating outwards, like she’d lit some kind of spark in me.

  “You should consider making a donation,” she added, chuckling.

  “I don’t know about that. It’s not like I need the money and it looks like they have plenty of guys here who are great already.”

  Veronica flipped through a few more pages before letting out a groan. “I just… of course they’re all great, it’s not that none of them are, but… how can I possibly choose? It’s like… decision paralysis.”

  She slammed the binder shut and shoved it away from herself, making a grimace that I recognized from when we were doing homework together - she had a headache coming on.

  “I’ll have to go home and make a list of qualifications before I can possibly decide,” Veronica announced. “Really think about what I want and then try to match that with the men on here. Maybe I’ll take Dr. Johnson up on that offer to do one of those… pairing things where they help me to pick someone.”

  “Hey, I get that.” I rubbed at her back without even thinking about it, something I used to do when she was stressed. It had always helped her to calm down and relax. “It’s hard to focus on one biscuit when there’s a whole buffet in front of you.”

  Veronica chuckled. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

  “Well, nobody said that you had to decide today. But you’ve been here, you’ve seen the process and you understand how it all works, and you can come back with another appointment once you have a better handle on what you want.”

  Veronica nodded, standing up. “You’re right,” she said, sounding relieved, like I’d given her the answer to a math question that she’d been struggling with. “Of course, you’re absolutely right.” She smiled at me, warm and grateful, and my knees went a little weak. “Thank you for coming and being here with me. I know it might seem silly…”

  “Hey, no, it’s not silly at all. This is a difficult process and it can be intimidating. Don’t apologize. I was happy to be here for you.”

  I offered her my arm and escorted her out of the building. Veronica fit so nicely on my arm - so nicely against my side - and I couldn’t help but feel that we made a rather attractive couple as well. It felt like we fit together, two puzzle pieces realigning, and I didn’t want to let her go, literally or figuratively.

  We’d had so much fun together this afternoon. I knew that for all of her joking around, Veronica was nervous. Her indecision and frustration with the process of picking a donor had shown that. And the fact that she’d wanted me there at all… even if I’d wanted to offer, most women wouldn’t want their doctor or anyone else to accompany them when they picked a donor. Perhaps their mother, or a very close friend, for a second opinion if they were unsure or needed to choose between two donors.

  But picking a donor was a hugely personal process. Veronica had no reason to want me of all people there with her, no matter what I had once been to her in high school. I took it as a good sign for our relationship that she had been glad of my presence, but I also saw it as a sign of how nervous she was, how much she needed a steadying partner.

  I didn’t want the day to end. We’d had fun in spite of her nerves and I wanted to keep things going, to take her somewhere she could be even more relaxed, see how much more we could connect without the clinic and her nerves in the way.

  It was a risk, but faint heart never won fair lady
, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could take that risk with her now.

  “Hey, I’m starved,” I told her. It was late afternoon, the perfect time to grab an early dinner. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat? I know of a great place nearby.”

  Veronica considered for a moment, and I added a quick joke, tried to make it more of a business meeting and less of a date in case she was feeling skittish. “We can talk about the requirements for your donor, make a list so that when you come back here it’ll be easier for you. That way you’ll have someone to bounce ideas off.”

  She pulled a face, that grimace where she stuck out her tongue and screwed up her eyes. It had always made me laugh and even now I had to suppress a chuckle. “This’ll be the most unique dinner conversation I’ve had in a while,” she told me.

  “Well hey, never a dull moment when I’m around, isn’t that what you always used to say? I might be all respectable now.” I cleared my throat and pretended to adjust a monocle on my face. “But I still know how to make the people the next table over give us weird looks.”

  Veronica laughed. “Yes, you always made everyone give us the strangest looks when we were out.”

  “I haven’t lost my touch.” I winked at her. “Let’s go to Marco’s.” I gave her the address. “You can meet me there, since you’ve got your car.”

  “Don’t I have to…” She gestured at herself, or rather at her outfit.

  I shook my head. “There’s no reason to change, you look perfect already.” You always look perfect, I wanted to tell her. I had to practically bite my tongue in half to keep that part from slipping out.

  Growing up I had never understood all those stupid romantic movies. Partly because when you’re a kid you just don’t get all that shit, but partly because of my father. My mom had run off and I couldn’t blame her with a man like that. Could anyone possibly really mean all those stupid gooey things they were saying on screen during the movies? Nobody could really love someone like that and want to say that stuff.

  But then I’d met Veronica and I’d found myself turning into a total sap. It had been hilarious to my friends and there’d been times where I’d been embarrassed for people to know about how hard I’d fallen but for the most part I hadn’t cared. Veronica had appreciated when I’d done things like called her perfect, and that was all that’d mattered to me.

  Would she appreciate it now, I wondered. Would she accept me saying that sort of thing about her?

  I shoved those thoughts down and simply nodded and smiled as Veronica told me she would meet me there. I wasn’t supposed to be letting this continue. I was supposed to be putting a halt to all of this, not encouraging it.

  Well, maybe I should encourage it? Maybe this was a sign that instead of stopping our relationship and continuing as her doctor, I should to the opposite?

  I wasn’t sure yet where I was going with this. All I knew was that I couldn’t bear to let her go.

  8

  Veronica

  I was pleasantly surprised by the restaurant, Marco’s.

  Chad, my parents, my friends, basically everyone that I knew - they all went to these fancy, ostentatious places. The places that got these five star reviews and had reservations booked a month in advance. The sort of place where you went to see and be seen.

  But this wasn’t anything like that. The restaurant appeared to be a family-run Italian place, perfectly nice and a bit upscale, the sort of place you could take your date on a Friday night, but not at all full of itself. There were comfortable booths everywhere, low lighting for that touch of romance, and what looked like hearty portions of food.

  When I walked in, the hostess immediately smiled at me. “You must be Veronica? Ted’s already seated, I’ll bring you to him.”

  “Is he a regular here?” I asked, curious as to how she knew his name and mine.

  “Comes in once every couple of weeks,” the girl replied. She looked to be about college age, fresh faced and with big blue eyes. “He described you, said you were the gorgeous woman in the light blue blouse.”

  Oh goodness. I could feel my face heating up. Ted probably didn’t know the hostess would say that to me. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would compliment a woman when she wasn’t around so that she then knew it and heard about it. He didn’t need to toot his own horn or pad his behavior like that to win a woman over.

  I saw Ted as I wove my way through the tables, following the hostess, and I felt that hot-melting-chocolate feeling all over again. He was so handsome, especially in this soft lighting. I wanted to dash into the bathroom to check my hair and found myself wishing that I had changed into something a little nicer.

  This was just a supportive afternoon between friends, a playful, fun time between two people that could’ve been platonic or romantic. Despite my continued desire for him, neither of us had done anything that slipped into the realm of the romantic.

  But now…

  Now this was starting to feel a lot like a date.

  I knew that should make me feel uncomfortable. After all, I had been steadfastly against dating again after all that had gone on with Chad. I didn’t want a relationship, I didn’t want to be with anyone else, and that was something I had to stick to.

  …wasn’t it?

  Instead of uncomfortable, though, I just felt… anticipation. Excitement. Butterflies in my stomach, just like when we were in high school and I had known that Ted was on his way to pick me up from my house to take us somewhere. We’d never gone anywhere fancy, but I hadn’t cared. What had mattered was that I was out with Ted.

  The idea of being on a date with Ted Winters again put a shy smile on my face, made my entire body heat up. Of course it wasn’t… well, it wasn’t a proper date, was it? Ted would have said if it was, he was always up front that way, but I couldn’t help but feel… like just maybe that’s what it could turn into, if that was what I wanted.

  I waved and smiled at him as I walked up, and the smile that Ted gave me in return made me want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. I slid into the booth next to him, thanking the hostess, who blushed when Ted thanked her as well.

  “That’s Angelica, she’s the granddaughter of the owner,” Ted said. “A real sweet girl.”

  “I think she has a crush on you,” I noted as Angelica made her way back up to the front, glancing back a couple of times to look at us with curiosity.

  “Well she’s nineteen, a little young for me,” Ted laughed. “The food here is amazing. We used to love getting Italian together.”

  “That we did,” I admitted. “Those were good times.”

  I was surprised by how much I wanted this to be a date, to be official. I wanted him to wrap his arm around my shoulders the way that he used to, and teasingly pour me my glass of wine - not that we’d been old enough for wine, we’d had to do that on the sly - I wanted him to treat me like his proper date.

  But I had told Ted that I didn’t want a relationship and he was my doctor, so he kept himself politely on one end of the booth.

  I tried to ignore the curl of disappointment in my chest.

  We ordered our food, the server coming up almost immediately and greeting Ted by name. It was kind of nice, to be in a place where everyone knew him, and everyone liked him. Chad would take me to places where we were known only after he told everyone he was the governor’s son, and then we were treated with fear, not respect - and certainly not affection.

  This was so much nicer.

  As we waited for our food, Ted asked me about my life. “We haven’t really caught up,” he told me. “You know all about my boring trip into fertility work, what about you?”

  I didn’t really want to get into details about it. Instead I just said, “I was married for a time. Got divorced recently. It was a long time coming, and now I’m going after what I want out of life, and the first part of that is I want to be a mother.” I explained how the alimony would take care of me and my child for the first few years, if I was careful with my funds. “I
found a lovely little place, it used to be a carriage house.”

  Ted sensed that I didn’t want to talk about the divorce, and instead asked me about the new house. I was eager to tell him about it, not only to get away from the subject of Chad but because I was genuinely so excited to talk about all I’d been doing to set the place up.

  It was a little bit run down here and there, but I’d done a lot of renovation on it. I had picked out different shades of blue and green for every room, since they were soothing colors, and I wanted there to be a kind of theme to the place. I’d gotten furniture in second-hand places, and fixed the plumbing and the door that wasn’t sitting right on its hinges, and the leaky roof.

  “Look at you,” Ted said as our food was set down. “A real handyman. I never would’ve thought I’d see the day.”

  “I know, right?” I laughed. “Proper Miss DeMarcus getting splinters in her hands fixing her windowsill and re-tiling the bathroom in dirty overalls. I never would’ve believed it of myself, either.”

  “You were always so proper in public, but you could get down and dirty in private,” Ted reminded me with a twinkle in his eye. His knowing smirk made me shiver. Yeah, he knew exactly how dirty I could get. “I’m not surprised. You were always so determined when you set your mind to it.”

  “I sure didn’t feel that way.”

  “That was what frustrated me so much,” Ted admitted. “You were so smart and capable and you just… let the people in your life walk all over you and tell you what you were going to do.”

  I nodded. “I know. But I’m past that, now. My parents have gotten a lot of lectures from me. They’re going to accept that I’ll do what I want with my life, or they won’t be in my life. Period.”

  “How’d they take that?”

  “I think they’re coming around. I can see them biting back comments a lot. I’ve never seen my mother so subdued.” I tried to laugh, but the sound stuck in my throat.

  Ted raised his fingers to get the attention of the server, then quietly ordered a bottle of wine for us while I scarfed down some more food, trying to hide my flaming cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I said once the server left. “I didn’t mean to dump my personal problems on you.”