How to Fall For a Rockstar: a single mom, grumpy sunshine, small town, rockstar romantic comedy (Cas

Chapter 21

Daddy – a word that causes fear in men and women alike

Leia

The sun flutters against my face and I groan. Ugh. I forgot to shut the curtains before I went to bed last night. I roll away from the sun and slam smack dab into a hard wall. A hard wall of muscles to be exact.

“Good morning, firecracker,” Fender greets.

Memories of the previous night assault me. Realizing how much I enjoy being a full participant during sex. Exploring those muscles I’ve been drooling over ever since he moved in next door. Discovering he has a full chest of tattoos and licking every single one of them.

“Good morning,” I croak. I clear my throat and try again. “Good morning.”

He kisses my nose. “How are you feeling?”

Freaking fabulous, I think but refuse to say out loud. No reason to inflate the rockstar’s ego. “Good.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Good is okay. But I can make you feel great.”

That he can. That he can.

“You can?” I cock an eyebrow in challenge.

“You don’t believe me? Do you need a demonstration?”

“I believe I do need a demonstration.”

He growls before rolling me onto my back and crawling on top of me. “I can demonstrate.” He focuses on my lips and I bite my bottom one. His mouth is nearly on mine before I remember – morning breath.

“Eek!” I shove a hand in front of my mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Morning breath.”

“I don’t give a shit about morning breath.”

“I do.” In fact, I should probably brush my hair along with my teeth. Maybe jump in the shower while I’m at it.

“Okay.” He nuzzles my neck. “No kissing.” He lifts his head to wink at me. “On the mouth.”

Oh my. I squirm as I imagine how his beard would feel scraping against my thighs as his mouth works me.

He crawls down my body and fits his shoulders between my legs. He nibbles along my thigh until he reaches my core where he rubs his nose along the crotch of my panties. Why am I wearing underwear? Why did I insist on putting on clothes in the middle of the night?

“Mom, I’m home,” Isla shouts before the front door slams. Ah yes, now I remember why I refused to sleep naked.

“Good morning!” I shout back to stop her from coming to find me.

“Where are you?” So much for her not searching for me.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

My bedroom door squeaks open and I throw the blankets over Fender. I feel his body tremble with his laughter and I kick him for good measure.

“There you are!” Isla bounces into the room. “Why are you still in bed?”

“Just being lazy.”

“Oh, can I be lazy, too?” She starts to jump on the bed.

“No!” She jerks and her eyes widen at me. I clear my throat. “I mean I should be getting up.”

She frowns. “Okay. Can I have pancakes for breakfast?”

I normally don’t allow pancakes for breakfast except on special occasions, but I’m desperate for her to leave before she realizes what I’m hiding under the covers. “Yep. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She skips toward the hallway. “Shut the door on your way out.”

“You’re being weird today,” she says as she shuts the door.

Once the door is closed, I whip the covers off Fender who bursts into laughter. I slam a hand over his mouth.

“Shush. She’ll hear you.”

He shrugs. “She’ll figure out I’m here when I walk out of the room anyway.”

“You’re cute. You think you’re walking out the door.” I point to the window.

“I’ll crawl out the window but I am having pancakes for breakfast.”

“Deal.” I push him out of the bed. “Now get moving.”

“Can I get dressed first?”

I pick his clothes off of the floor and throw them at him. “Stop stalling, grumpapottamus.”

“I prefer King of the Grumps.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, you do.”

He dresses and I sigh as he hides all those delicious muscles. Those delicious tattoos I’m slowly becoming obsessed with.

He palms my neck and kisses my forehead. “Stop staring at me like you want to eat me or I’ll never be able to zip my jeans.”

I glance down and notice he’s hard.

“I really hate having a child right now.”

He squeezes my neck. “No, you don’t.”

It’s true. I don’t. But I do wish her sleepover had lasted longer.

I push up on my tiptoes and kiss him briefly before pulling away to steer him toward the window. He grunts as I open it. He probably thinks I’m crazy but I’m not ready for my kid to know I had sex.

Once Fender’s gone, I rush through my morning ritual knowing he won’t wait long before barging into the house.

“Who wants pancakes?” I ask Isla when I enter the kitchen.

“Me,” Fender answers as he opens the backdoor.

Isla’s nose wrinkles. “Why are you coming through the backdoor? Did Mom kick you out? Was she mad at you?”

Fender raises an eyebrow my way.

“What do you mean?” I hedge.

Isla rolls her eyes. “He stayed overnight.”

I groan. So much for her not knowing I had sex. I fear another conversation about what adults do when they like each other is approaching.

“He did?”

“Mom,” she huffs. “He was in your bed. Are you mad at him?”

“I’m not mad at him,” I claim although I’m a little irritated with the know-it-all look Fender’s got going on his face at the moment.

“Good. Because I like Fender.”

He ruffles her hair. “I like you, too, cutie pie.”

“Did you have fun at the sleepover?” I ask because I am done discussing where Fender slept last night.

“It was okay. After Storm got sick, they took our candy away.”

I bite my tongue before I say good. “What did you do? Watch movies? Play games?”

“Yeah.”

She pats the chair next to her. “Sit down here, Fender.”

“Maybe your mom needs help making the pancakes.”

I lift the box of pancake mix. “All fine here. Go ahead and relax.”

He sits next to my daughter and she smiles up at him. “Does this mean you’re my new daddy now?”

I gasp and drop the pan onto the stove with a thump. “What?”

“Storm said if a man stays over night with your mom, he’s your new daddy.”

My gaze meets Fender’s. Panic is clear to see in his eyes. The same panic is coursing through my body. I could barely agree to date Fender. I’m not ready for a full-on relationship with him.

And, considering he’s panicking as hard as I am, Fender obviously isn’t ready for one either. Disappointment kicks me in the stomach. Why do I feel disappointed? I literally just thought I’m not ready for a full-on relationship with him.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” Isla glances back and forth between us.

“Maybe I should go.” Fender starts for the door. “We’ll talk later.”

“Is he mad at me?” Isla asks when the door shuts behind him.

“Of course not, honey.”

“But he was happy before I asked him about being my daddy.” Her bottom lip trembles and I rush to her.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” I reassure her.

“He hates me!” she screams and promptly bursts into tears.

I pull her into my arms and rock her back and forth. “Fender doesn’t hate you.”

“He doesn’t want to be my dad,” she wails.

This is why I don’t date. This is why I don’t trust men. They flee at the first hurdle and leave you all alone to deal with the aftermath.

Stupid men. I shouldn’t have asked Fender inside yesterday.

Lesson learned. No more men. And, this time, I’m sticking to it.