Daycare Dad (Wintertime Holiday Connection #2)

Chapter 1

Ashriek and a poke to the back woke Shomari.

“You can’t stay here,” a commanding voice ordered.

He rolled over, forgetting he was in a hammock, and crashed to the floorboards.

The red-eye flight hadn’t done him any justice, and he arrived too late, or rather, too early in the new day to disturb his hosts.

The hammock had been an inviting temptation he couldn’t ignore, so he’d planned to crash there until morning or when someone showed up—whichever happened first.

He stumbled to his feet, yawning and clearing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The woman holding the offending umbrella that stuck him resembled the Winters twins, but was much smaller.

She’d twisted her plaited hair together into a ponytail at the top of her head.

Now, her plump lips pulled into a pucker.

The umbrella wavered, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d need it to prod him again.

He’d be wary, too, if he found a stranger occupying space at any of his relatives’ homes.

All his senses went on high alert when she raised her arm.

“Lizette?” Her name erupted from his lips in a low rush.

Eyes narrowed, she raised her chin. “Why do you know my name?”

The mixture of fear and slight contempt in her tone irritated him. Didn’t she know he was supposed to be here? Then again, considering Zack’s absentmindedness when he was deep in a project, maybe not.

She angled her head sideways, peering at him. Then her eyes widened.

“Zack.”

They said his name simultaneously.

“I’m sorry.” Shomari ran one hand over his hair and stepped back, knowing his size—compared with hers—might account for the anxiety flowing off her. “I should have arrived yesterday afternoon, but my flight was delayed.”

Dawn hadn’t yet made an appearance, so he wondered why Lizette had arrived this early. As if she read his mind, she said, “I thought you were coming on Friday.”

He rubbed his jaw and held in a sigh. So much had changed in his world during the past weeks, but now wasn’t the time to think about how and why he was in this situation, not of his own making.

Shrugging, he offered, “Change in plans. But it is Thursday.”

“And I was supposed to get this place ready for you. Lord, this isn’t good.” Lizette reached for the tiny leather bag slanted across her body, then stopped with one hand halfway inside. “How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

He chuckled and folded both arms. “I don’t recall telling you who I am.”

After whipping out a phone, swiping the screen, and peering at it, Lizette thrust it in his face. “This is good enough for me. Shomari.”

Instinctively, he retreated, but gripped her wrist to see the screen. Either Zack or Eli had sent her a photo of the three of them together. He remembered the shot from last summer’s meet-up. Here he was, struggling a year later.

A slight tug forced his gaze to settle on Lizette. Her eyes had popped wide again, and a flush darkened her smooth skin. When she bit her bottom lip, he released his hold and sucked in a breath. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to manhandle you.”

She nodded and tried to get past him, but he shifted in the same direction. Then they moved to the other side. When they slid to the right in tandem the third time, Lizette rolled her eyes.

“Let me get out of your way,” he said and eased out of reach.

Lizette was uncomfortable with him touching her, and he didn’t want to make the situation worse, especially since he stood between her and the house where he was supposed to be staying.

Once more, she dipped into the bag. This time, she pulled out a set of keys. Pointing to his luggage, she said, “You can bring everything inside.”

The moment she unlocked the door, a sudden urge to empty his bladder overtook Shomari, and he asked, “Uh, may I use the bathroom?”

Lizette inclined her head toward the passage on the left. “First door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

He did his business in a tight space clearly meant for visitors, then washed his hands and face and dabbed them dry with facial tissue.

In the mirror, his shoulders rose and fell while he rubbed his beard and avoided his gaze.

He had no business in the Winters’ house and had to deal with that pressing issue.

One thing at a time.

Lizette wasn’t in the living room, but he heard her sneakers in the distance. He sat to wait until she finished whatever she was doing, and pulled out his phone when it buzzed.

Now what? Only one person, make that two, would be texting him at this hour of the morning: Christy or his mother. The message was from his ex-partner, the mother of his daughter.

Can you watch Natanya on Saturday?

Shomari massaged his forehead, counted to five, then typed, How am I supposed to keep her when I don’t have a place to stay?

Her response came in an instant. I’m sure you won’t have to sleep on the street.

Yeah, no thanks to you, he thought.

Why can’t you stay with her? What about your mother?

He watched the three dots on the screen until her response appeared. She and Ingrid will be out of town for the weekend.

Ingrid was Christy’s sister.

The back of his neck tightened in sync with his chest as he typed, I can’t commit.

Her response was quick. This is your daughter.

“I’m well aware of that,” he grumbled while sending another message.

So, you’ll pick her up on Saturday morning?

As if she were a package. Wanting to use words that would make a sailor cringe, Shomari stabbed the screen as he typed, I’ll see what I can do.

The cable knit sweater he wore shot his temperature into the stratosphere, and he wanted to drag it over his head, but couldn’t.

Not with Lizette still in the house. A reluctant smile pulled at his lips as he pictured her reaction to finding him half-naked in the living room.

His amusement faded, and he rose to pace in front of the sofa, then checked the phone when it pinged.

You have to do better than that.

Christy’s tone grated on his nerves, and he shot off another message. What would u have done if I weren’t on the island?

Mere seconds passed before she texted back. That’s none of ur business.

This was what irritated him. Always. Their inability to communicate without insults being thrown on either side. Everything had been good until he discovered she’d been playing him, and his world collapsed.

Lizette’s footsteps slowed his movements, and he sank onto the nearest sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, stopping a foot away.

“Nothing you can help with, thanks.”

He noticed she’d lost the umbrella, which he counted as a good thing in what was turning out to be another crappy day.

One of her eyebrows arched higher, but she said nothing.

He wanted to apologize for his terse words, but didn’t have it in him to make nice when his life was in disarray.

Nothing he was going through had anything to do with her.

Christy, though, could make him lose his cool without trying.

Aside from this caper with Natanya, she was the reason he didn’t have a place to lay his head.

That, he’d deal with later. For now, he needed rest.

Afterward, he’d figure out how to navigate coming home to Kingston, Jamaica, with no housing or money to his name, other than what was in his current account and what he’d invested. Those funds were locked in, and he’d lose big time if he cashed in on them.

Standing taller, Lizette drew his attention back to her.

“I’m sorry I can’t assist you, but I sure hope you can help me fix the issue in the room where you’re supposed to sleep.”

Her request wasn’t exactly rude, but her tone was not pleasant either, which made him pause.

Since he was the one who’d soured the air between them, he offered a weak smile. Raising one hand, he waved in a sweeping gesture. “Ladies first. Let’s see what’s what.”

She swept past him, leaving the scent of almonds, peaches, and something citrusy. The subtle aroma forced him to inhale deeply. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze from her swaying hips. He’d be courting disaster to think about Lizette as anything more than his friends’ baby sister.

Inside the bedroom, she moved to the window and pulled aside the curtain. “There. I shoved it too hard and wrecked the handle.”

He moved in close to examine the damage. When he looked up, Lizette hovered so close, her scent surrounded him. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll need a screwdriver to fix this.”

“Awesome.” Her smile was brilliant, as though he’d given her a valuable gift.

“Don’t go anywhere.” She backed away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Hey, wait.” He ran his fingers on the edge of the wood. “I may need a few more items.”

“So, follow me.”

He went with her to the other side of the house, where she opened a door and flicked the light switch. The small room was lined with tools and machinery of all shapes and sizes.

“There’s a tool pan somewhere around here,” she said, more to herself than him.

“Let me help you look.”

After a couple of minutes, he found it near the back of the room on a low shelf. When he straightened and turned, Lizette stood inches away, but too close for comfort in the compact space.

“Sorry. Let me get out of your way.” She bumped her foot against a portable vacuum on the floor. “I’m never this clumsy.”

“Careful.” He reached out to help her, but changed his mind when she steadied herself. “You okay?” he asked.

“I-I’m fine.” She hurried out of the room faster than she’d entered, leaving him to stare after her.