April Embers_A Second Chance Single Daddy Firefighter Romance Read online

“I’ll get it!” Charlie announced, jerking her seat back from the table and scampering towards the entryway. As soon as she was out of earshot, I shot a vicious glare across the table at Haley.

  “Stop,” I snarled.

  “What?”

  “You know exactly what. You’re getting her hopes up.”

  “I’m making plans with my daughter,” she scoffed, taking offense.

  “You have no right to just--” before I could finish, Charlotte was sprinting back into the room.

  “Look who it is!” she announced breathlessly. I glanced over my shoulder and had my second “oh shit” moment of the night.

  “Des,” I gasped. “What are you--”

  “Who the hell are you?!” Haley demanded, jumping up from the table. Her Mommy Dearest demeanor was dead and gone, and she was right back to being the volatile, nasty version of Haley Scott that I remembered…

  “I was just stopping by to drop off this,” Des said, holding up an envelope. “I should have called first… it’s a bad time…”

  “Is anyone going to tell me who this chick is?!” Haley demanded angrily. “Because she has some nerve showing up unannounced, and interrupting a family dinner.”

  “Family?” Des shook her head, confused. She glanced back at me.

  “Did I stutter?” Haley yelled. “F-A-M-I-L-Y.”

  “Haley, STOP,” I said firmly. I would have said a hell of a lot worse than that, if Charlie hadn’t been in the room. When I turned to Des, she was already backing out of the room.

  “I’m just gonna go,” she mumbled. I pushed my chair back and stood up, but she had already slipped out of the room.

  She was out of the apartment and halfway down the stairs when I caught up with her.

  “Des, wait!” I called after her.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m sorry I interrupted your family dinner.”

  “You didn’t interrupt anything,” I insisted. “Please, just let me explain--”

  “Explain what?!” Des caught herself on the banister and spun around to face me. “Was that Charlie’s mother?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But she wasn’t supposed to be here. She just showed up, and--”

  “Please… don’t,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “She was right. I’m not part of your family.”

  She reached up and shoved the envelope into my hands, then she turned and ran down the stairs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX | DESIREE

  “Looks like somebody could use a little more Chardonnay,” the bartender said.

  “Huh?” I glanced up from my iPhone, confused.

  “More Chardonnay,” he repeated, pointing at the empty wine glass resting next to me on the laquered wooden bar.

  “Oh, right,” I nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m still about twenty glasses away from where I need to be right now, so keep ‘em coming.”

  The bartender raised his eyebrows in silent judgement but said nothing as he flashed me the ‘a-ok’ gesture with his hand, then reached under the bar for a chilled bottle of white wine.

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just been a long week.”

  “I can tell,” he said, giving me a wise wink as he poured a generous serving into my wine glass. Then he wedged the cork back into the bottle and set it next to my glass. “I’ll just leave this here.”

  I smiled appreciatively, then slumped forward on the bar.

  You know your life is in complete shambles when even the bartender at Rusty’s Tavern thinks you’re a hot mess…

  It was a Friday night, and I had reluctantly agreed to tag along with a group of fellow faculty members for a couple rounds of happy hour beers at the local dive bar.

  Truth be told, Rusty’s Tavern was one of the last places I wanted to spend my Friday night… especially after the bang-up week I had had. But even a mildew-infested dive bar was better than going back to my apartment right now...

  In a desperate attempt to motivate me to move out before my thirty days was up, my roommate Kas had already started the process of moving her new boyfriend in.

  I couldn’t tell if Stuart was deliberately trying to drive me to the brinks of lunacy, or if he was just genuinely a terrible human being. Either way, he made living in the apartment next to impossible. He would cook six-course meals in the middle of the night, and during the day he would lounge on the couch in his boxers watching Jerry Springer and drinking milk straight out of the gallon.

  The only positive to come out of the whole arrangement was the fact that Stuart served as one giant, partially-nude distraction from the memories of what had transpired at Rory’s apartment.

  I kept thinking of ways to blame it on myself, I should have known better than to drive over to Rory’s place unannounced. I should have known better than to let my walls down so quickly. I should have known better than to turn a blind eye to all the things that made our relationship so inherently and utterly complicated.

  Rory had a daughter… of course that meant that Charlotte had a mother, too. And of course the three of them would always be a family, in a way that the three of us never could be.

  I was stupid to ever assume otherwise.

  My iPhone screen lit up and I glanced down at the notifications. I had ten unread text messages to scroll through; all responses to the advertisement seeking a new roommate that I had placed on CraigsList.

  My eyes skimmed the first text message, and I immediately grimaced. It was from an out-of-state phone number, and the message read,

  ‘Male, 34, looking 4 roommate / possible FWB. If this sounds like u, plz send pics ;)’

  No thanks. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I swiped the text message off of my screen to delete it. Before I could move on to the next message in the queue, my phone vibrated and the screen flashed to display an incoming phone call.

  As soon as I saw Rory’s name on caller ID, my heart seized in my chest. I dropped the phone on the bar and reached for my wine glass, then swallowed down the biggest gulp I could manage.

  The phone was still vibrating when I set the glass down, and I stared at the screen debating whether or not to answer.

  Part of me was desperate just to hear his voice again… but another part of me felt foolish for ever thinking Rory could really be mine in the first place. Either way, 100% of me just wanted to chuck my phone behind the bar so I would never have to look at it again.

  I was evaluating the trajectory I would need to sink my phone in the ice box behind the bar, when I heard someone slide into the stool beside me.

  “Aren’t you gonna answer that?” he asked, nodding to my phone.

  “What?” I glanced up and saw Andy White; well-meaning PE teacher and coordinator of teacher trivia nights at the high school.

  “Your phone,” he said, dropping a bottle of PBR on the bar next to my wine glass. “Someone’s calling you… aren’t you going to pick up?”

  “No,” I said, swallowing heavily and glancing down at the phone screen. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Oh,” Andy raised his eyebrows, unsure of what to say. The phone finally stopped vibrating and went to voicemail, and finally the screen faded to black.

  “So,” Andy tried again. “I was surprised to see you here tonight. You don’t usually come to happy hour with us.”

  “I needed an excuse to get out of the house,” I shrugged, taking another long sip of wine.

  “Uh-oh,” Andy nodded. “Now I’m starting to understand why you went for the bottle instead of the glass.”

  I tried to chuckle, but the best I could do was a weak smile.

  “It’s just been one of those weeks,” I said, pinching the stem of my wine glass.

  “Well, little known fact about me, I’m actually a substitute guidance counselor. So if you want to talk… I can offer guidance. Or counsel. Or even a little bit of both…”

  I glanced at Andy and made another attempt at a smile.

  “That’s really nice of you t
o offer,” I said sincerely. “Thanks. But… I think I’m just going to drown my sorrows in cheap wine, and keep my fingers crossed that I don’t do any long-term damage to my emotional well-being. Or my liver.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the healthiest coping mechanism, but uh… cheers?” Andy clinked his beer bottle against my glass with a shrug, then took a swig.

  “Cheers,” I said, taking a small sip of wine.

  My phone started vibrating again, and when I glanced down I saw another incoming call from Rory.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” Andy asked in a faux-macho voice. “Because if he’s bothering you… you can let him know that you’re friends with a PE teacher from Hartford High.”

  “No. It’s…” my voice trailed off and I shook my head, unsure of what to say.

  “Complicated?” Andy guessed for me. Then he teased, “Jeez, I was expecting a more descriptive adjective. You are an English teacher, after all…”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I said dryly, keeping my eyes locked on the phone.

  I knew that Andy was just trying to be friendly, but I wanted to be alone. Even making polite small-talk felt absolutely draining.

  The phone stopped vibrating as the call bounced to voicemail. Before the screen could fade, a text message popped up. It was from Rory,

  ‘I’m not giving up, Des. Not again.’

  My mouth fell open and I cradled my phone in my hands, blinking down at the screen. I couldn’t tell if my head was spinning, or if all of the wine was finally catching up with me.

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” Andy said finally, picking up his beer. He slid off of his stool, then he paused and turned back around to face me.

  “I know you’re in the middle of some sort of complicated relationship with your phone at the moment,” he said. “But I’d love to take you to dinner sometime, if you’re interested…”

  I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat and stared up at Andy. My head was still spinning in circles, but I tried my best to give him a warm smile.

  “Andy, I can’t--”

  “Say no more,” he cut me off, holding up his hands to silence me. “You’re not interested. I get it.”

  He smiled and clinked the neck of his PBR bottle against my wine glass again.

  “Well, I hope things work out with the guy on the phone,” he said. “He seems… persistent.”

  I stared down at my iPhone again. Rory’s text was still at the top of my notifications list, and I kept my eyes glued to the words until the screen faded back to black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN | RORY

  “That fettuccine alfredo was so delicious!” Haley raved, propping her elbows on the kitchen counter and flicking her eyes towards me as I dropped a stack of dirty dinner plates into the sink.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said flatly. I flicked on the sink faucet and let the gushing sound of water drown out the sound of Haley’s words.

  Tonight she had joined us for the fourth ‘family dinner’ in a row and, after suffering through four nights in a row of hosting Haley Scott at my dinner table, there were few sounds I wouldn’t prefer over the annoying, pitchy squeal of her voice. A chorus of chainsaws, for example. Or a Taylor Swift album played at maximum volume, on repeat.

  Anything would be better than listening to Haley ramble on and on…

  Even though she was quickly burning through the tiny bit of patience that was left in my reserve tank, I had to give her credit, she had showed up when she said she would. And even though I really wished she hadn’t, I knew that it meant the world to Charlotte.

  It had been years since we had all done anything even remotely family-oriented together, and I was willing to do whatever it took to make my little girl smile… even if it meant putting up with Haley.

  “So… how come you never cooked like this when we were together?” Haley asked now. She leaned over the stove and swirled her finger around in the saucepan.

  “What are you talking about?” I glared. “I was the only one who ever cooked.”

  “Not like this,” Haley said. She ran her tongue over her fingertip, licking away the white alfredo sauce. Then she winked suggestively at me and giggled. I gritted my teeth together and glared.

  If Charlotte hadn’t been within earshot, I would have told Haley that she was disgusting. But since Charlie was just a few feet away, working through her math homework, I kept my mouth shut.

  Instead, I narrowed my eyes and said,

  “Calm down, it’s just Ragu.”

  Haley pursed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a decent, home cooked meal,” she said.

  This time, I couldn’t resist hurling out an insult,

  “Oh really? Because I remember reading somewhere that you’ve been doing quite a bit of home cooking lately,” I snarled. Then I lowered my voice and added, “Where did I read that again? Oh yeah… your arrest warrant.”

  “Wow,” Haley raised her eyebrows. “That’s really low, Rory. Even for you.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re making fun of me for having an illness?”

  “Is that what you call it? An illness?” I hissed under my breath.

  “That’s exactly what addiction is,” she snapped back. “It’s an illness. I learned that in treatment.”

  “Hey Daddy?” Charlie called from the kitchen table. My shoulders immediately untensed, and my head shot towards my daughter.

  “What’s up, sweetheart?”

  “I need help with this story problem,” she said. “I can’t figure it out.”

  “Mommy can help you!” Haley offered. Before I could stop her, she had swooped in to take my place next to Charlotte. I sighed, tossing my dish rag over the edge of the sink.

  Haley seemed dead set on going through the motions… but she was still just an actress playing a role; she was my daughter’s mother, but that didn’t make her a mom.

  I knew it was only a matter of time before the gig was up, and she vanished all over again.

  “All done!” Charlotte announced proudly. She stood up from the dinner table and lifted her math homework triumphantly over her head.

  “Good job, kiddo!” I said, offering her a high-five. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed? I’ll come to tuck you in in a few minutes.”

  “Ok, Daddy,” Charlie stuffed her homework into her school backpack, then she shuffled towards her bedroom at the opposite end of the apartment.

  “Hey, can I use the bathroom?” Haley asked me.

  “Umm… of course. You know where it is,” I pointed over my shoulder without thinking.

  “Thanks.”

  I frowned as I watched Haley shuffle off, and I felt something stir inside of me; something that felt an awful lot like intuition.

  I had spent over half of my life living with drug addicts. I knew all of the red flags and warning signs; I had heard every damn lie and excuse in the book.

  Maybe it was nothing; maybe she just needed to use the bathroom, and I was being paranoid.

  I stepped silently towards the bathroom door. My footsteps barely made a sound as I moved across the floor, shifting from foot to foot. I paused in front of the bathroom and raised my ear to the door.

  Inside, I heard silence. Then… the unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking. I heard it flick once, twice… then the soft whoosh of a flame igniting.

  My mouth went dry and my body went numb. I didn’t like Haley, but I had wanted to be wrong about her. I really, truly had.

  “Daddy!” Charlotte called from her bedroom.

  I stared at the bathroom for a few more seconds, then I turned and walked to my daughter’s bedroom.

  Charlie should have been waiting for me in bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin… but instead, I found her standing at her dresser hugging a pink envelope to her a
chest. I recognized it right away; it was the envelope that Desiree had left behind.

  “Charlie, where did you get that?!” I demanded.

  “I found it,” she said innocently, blinking up at me. Then she held it up and added, “It’s from Des.”

  “I know that, honey,” I said. “But…”

  I sighed, letting my voice trail off. The card had been addressed to the both of us, but I hadn’t given it to Charlie yet. I didn’t want to make things more complicated for her than they already were…

  Now, I took the card in my hand and glanced down at the design. Des had drawn it herself in red ballpoint pen and, although her art skills were arguably far more advanced than Charlie’s, the picture was very similar to the one my daughter had drawn for Des, it was the three of us, standing hand-in-hand. Charlie and Des were wearing matching dresses, and there was even a Wii Fit in the background.

  Along the top of the card, Des had written,

  ‘Thank you for letting me be your friend!’

  “Daddy,” Charlie sniffled. “When are we going to see Des again?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said sadly.

  “Why did she stop coming? Is it because of Mommy?”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how to answer that one, so instead I suggested, “Why don’t you climb into bed?”

  Charlotte obeyed, scampering up onto her bed and crawling under the covers. Then she blinked up at me and said,

  “I want to see Des again. I miss her.”

  “I know, kiddo. I do, too.”

  “Can you read me a story tonight, Daddy?”

  “Of course,” I said. “But there’s something I have to take care of, first.”

  “What is it?”

  I pinched my lips together and forced myself to smile. I couldn’t let her know that anything was wrong… at least not yet. She was too young to understand.

  “I promise I’ll explain everything someday,” I said. “But for now… can you just trust Daddy?”

  Charlotte nodded slowly, and I gave her another sad smile. Then I carried her iPad over towards her bed and handed it to her.

  “Why don’t you put the earbuds in and watch a movie for a little while,” I suggested.