Pawliday Love

1. Big Daddy

CHAPTER ONE

BIG DADDY

THALIA

“ M om. Big Daddy Crane is on the fire escape again.”

“Ugh. Not tonight, please.”

It was a Friday night a few days before Christmas. Thalia Martina was busy struggling with grocery bags, her purse and her daughter’s backpack in the entryway of their third-floor apartment.

The place looked like it had already been ransacked by Krampus, she was starving, and she absolutely did not need to hear she’d have to deal with her landlord’s wayward parrot who’d escaped yet again. They’d only been here three months and Big Daddy found his way up here far too often.

“Wanna come in? It’s cold out there, Mr. Crane.”

Her daughter was peering out the window. A string of colored Christmas lights blinked patterns of blue, red and green on her baby-smooth copper skin and her dark wavy ponytail.

There, peering right back at them in between the lights, was the turquoise huge- ass parrot. Big Daddy Crane’s head was cocked to the side, his big black talons curved over the railing. His beak was massive, looking like it could deliver one hell of a peck if he got pissy. Or scared.

“Why don’t you call Daddy?” Ixchel’s suggestion was delivered in a hopeful tone.

Annoyance mixed with a pinch of sorrow tugged at Thalia’s heart. It was natural for her daughter to immediately think of her dad when they needed help. Thalia didn’t want to keep relying on him. And after a year since the split, Ixchel had to let go of her not-so-secret hope that her parents would get back together and be a happy little family.

“Daddy’s probably busy getting ready for your trip tomorrow. I’m calling Mr. Swimmer.”

“Aw, man .”

Despite Ixi’s puffed out lip, Thalia went to call Bill Swimmer. He picked up on the second ring.

“Siyo, Thalia. Callin’ about Big Daddy Crane?”

Already reassured by his gruff voice, still bearing traces of his original North Carolina Cherokee drawl, Thalia grinned. “You knew he was up here?”

“Oh yeah, he got out earlier today, ‘bout three this afternoon,” he remarked nonchalantly. “Be up in a minute, sweetheart. But I’m gonna charge ya for the removal this time. It’ll cost you some of those pecan what’s-its you make.”

She grinned at his coercion. “I’ll make a big batch with your name on it for Christmas. See you in a few.”

Ixi took off for the bedroom as she always did, not admitting she was actually scared of Big Daddy. Boots clomped up the stairs, then came the knock on the door. Thalia didn’t bother to look through the peephole, flinging the door open right away, and then pausing in utter shock.

It wasn’t Bill Swimmer. This man looked like Bill Swimmer, if he’d gone through a time warp and returned about thirty years younger. And younger Bill Swimmer was hot .

He stared back at her with deep-set dark eyes. “You must be Thalia. Or is there another lady in the house with blue hair?”

Am I Thalia? Holy shit. This man’s stunning appearance had made her temporarily forget her own damned name.

That’s when she recognized him from the pictures Bill had shown her and Ixchel the first time they’d been invited into his part of the house. This was Roderick Swimmer, the third eldest Swimmer kid. Not quite a “kid” since he was about her age, which was early forties. Bill raved about how smart he was, even though he didn’t have an artistic bone in his body.

His big, strong-looking body.

A button-down shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and chest and his long legs were encased in scruffy jeans. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his forearms with their tree of veins. She practically had to wipe her chin looking at those arms.

“Thalia?”

Roderick’s deep drawl wasn’t Southern like his dad’s. It was pure Brooklyn and sexy, like a slice of the Big Apple dipped in syrup. He stood there looking at her with that small smile. His black hair was short and shiny under the hallway light.

Thalia flushed, feeling shy under that gaze. “Yes, that’s me, blue hair and all.” She followed it up with a mock hair flip of her long box braids and an awkward laugh. “You’re Roderick, right? Your dad showed me your picture. Not you , but…all you guys.” She laughed weakly.

He shook his head with a scowl. “I think he still carries our pre-K photos in his wallet. You can call me Rick.”

Then he grinned, having the nerve to display a gorgeous white smile that got her pulse pumping. His narrow dark chocolate eyes ran across her features, and the tiny flare of warmth inside her flamed higher as they stood with gazes locked on each other.

Why was it suddenly so fucking hot in here? Pulling her cardigan open didn’t help after his eyes dropped to her breasts, then bounced back up to her face.

After another moment of staring at her, Rick spoke again. “Pops said you needed some help with the parrot?”