Chapter 6
If you need anything or any boy messes with you, you call me. Okay, Tessa?”
I look at my daughter and wonder what lunacy it is that I agreed to let her go to the dance tonight. She’s pretty in her dress and practically bounces off the walls with excitement at going to her first dance.
“Yes, Dad,” she says, but her fake pout can’t hide her excitement.
“Your phone is fully charged, right?” I ask, willing myself not to think of all the things that could go wrong. I remember what it was like to be a horny teen boy. Anyone foolish enough to try anything with her will get a quick and devastating lesson on how my daughter should be treated.
“Yes, Dad,” Tessa repeats, holding up her phone and showing me. “It’ll all be fine. I promise! I’ll be with Leslie and Adrianna all night.”
“And no boys.” I glare at her. I know I’m overprotective, but I don’t know any other way to be with my daughter. If it was possible to protect her from all the evils of the world, I’d pay any price to do that. As it is, the best I can do is work to ensure she has a good head on her shoulders and delay as many potential problems as possible.
Tessa meets my stare but nods. She’s a good kid, but I also remember how good intentions were easy to ignore when you’re in a dark auditorium and dancing with someone who unlocks attractions that overwhelm you with their intensity.
“Look. I know I’m overprotective,” I tell Tessa. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
She jumps at the sound of her phone buzzing. “Adrianna’s here. Thanks for letting me go tonight!”
“You’re welcome. I’ll pick you up at eleven. Call if anything happens, and I’ll be there immediately.”
Tessa walks over to me and surprises me with a hug. “I know, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, hugging her tightly for a moment, then kissing the top of her head.
* * *
Fuck.Marsha is a bombshell. When she walked into Bella Italia and I saw she was wearing another dress that hugged her curves the way I ache to, my cock instantly tightened. Everything about Marsha makes me want more, and I knew I had to break my rule about being with a woman.
“Do you two know what you’d like to order?” A server silently appears next to our table.
Marsha looks up in surprise. “What do you recommend? Everything looks so good.” She folds her menu, an openness in her eyes that reminds me it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything that wasn’t planned.
“The chicken piccata is popular, though if you ask me, I love the lasagna. We make the noodles here, but even the staff don’t know exactly what goes into the tomato sauce to make it taste like it does.”
“That settles it.” Marsha chuckles, reaching up to push her wavy brown hair back. “I’ll have the lasagna.”
“And you, sir?” the server turns to me.
“I’ll try the lasagna, too.”
“Good choice. Would you like some wine with that?”
Usually, I’m a beer drinker, but when I see Marsha smile like that’s her preference, I nod. “I don’t know a lot about wine, so whatever you recommend.”
“A chianti?” the server offers.
“That would be perfect,” Marsha says, smiling as the server nods and leaves our table.
“I’m really a pizza and beer kind of guy,” I admit, suddenly uncertain. “I’m a creature of habit, I guess you could say.”
“Is that something you picked up in the military?” Marsha puts her arms on the table and leans toward me, and the light of the flickering candles softly illuminates her face. Her blueeyes sparkle as she looks at me, and I know I’m a goner.
“It is. There’s something comforting about knowing what you’re supposed to do and how you’re supposed to do it. I like predictable routines.” Other people tease me about how I rely on routine and rules, but admitting this to Marsha feels comfortable, like she’s not going to criticize me for it.
Marsha’s warm laugh puts me at ease. “Somehow, that’s not surprising. I bet it makes Tessa wanting to be a writer much more challenging.”
I sigh and nod. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. I don’t understand creativity. There are too many variables for that kind of career.”
“I know it can seem scary, but believe me when I say Tessa is talented. I’m not lying about that. However,” she says, holding up her hand when she realizes I’m about to interrupt, “your concerns are valid. Being a fiction writer is a hard job, and if she wanted to self-publish, there’s a lot more work than just writing. That’s why I wanted you both to come to the open house.”
“That was eye-opening,” I say, remembering the different kinds of writing and how much the salary was for some of them.
“As I hoped it would be. Writing doesn’t have to be a one-track career. I’d recommend that Tessa study different kinds of writing and see which one she likes best. That way, she can use her skill for a career that isn’t fiction but still lets her do what she’s passionate about. There’s nothing to stop her from also publishing her stories or writing a novel.”
I hesitate for a moment. I”ve always wanted Tessa to pursue a traditional degree and career, but I”m starting to accept that writing might be her true passion. “I know she”s talented, but I worry about whether she”ll be successful.”
Marsha puts a hand on my arm, and her touch sends shivers down my spine. “So many different kinds of writing jobs pay very well. Tessa is talented. She’ll make a great career out of writing.”
I look at Marsha, her words sinking in. Maybe it”s time for me to start supporting my daughter”s dreams, even if they”re not what I had in mind for her. She’s my little girl, and I love her more than anything, but I realize I need to practice loving her choices even when they differ from what I would choose for her. There’s no doubt that she’s her own person and has a mind of her own.
“I’m getting the message,” I say, smiling warmly at Marsha. I love how passionate she is about supporting Tessa. “Thank you for believing in my daughter.”
“It’s truly my pleasure,” she says, sipping her wine. “Encouraging a student to fulfill their potential, and helping them achieve their dreams, is one of my greatest pleasures.”
“What else do you find pleasurable?” I ask, smiling at her.
She pauses for a moment, and color floods her cheeks. I love that I can take her by surprise like this. She’s a strong woman, but the glimpses I get of her when I catch her off guard only intensify my desire for her. I want to see her vulnerability and learn what makes her tick. The idea of another man seeing her like this is not something I’m going to let happen willingly. Marsha is going to be mine; rules be damned.
“This,” she says, her voice soft. “Tonight. You. This makes me happy.”
The openness and vulnerability in her eyes leave me breathless. Reaching across the table, I cover her soft hand with mine. Confusion and fear flood through me when she pulls her hand back.
“Is something wrong? Have I made you uncomfortable?” I have to make this right. Marsha is more than I thought I’d ever find in another woman, and now that I’ve found her, I’m never letting her go. Whatever it takes to win her over, I’ll do.
“Roman,” she sighs, her blue eyes glittering in the soft candlelight. “I like you – quite a bit. But I have a rule about dating the single dads of my students.”
“You’ve done this before?” I know her past before meeting me isn’t my business, but the idea that I’m not special to her makes me pause.
“No, I have not. That’s the thing.” She looks me directly in the eyes. “I don’t date single dads. Single dads invariably have some kind of drama in their lives because of their exes. I understand Tessa has a mother, but the dynamics of—”
I reach out again and take her hand in mine, holding her firmly so she can’t pull away. She needs to hear this. “Marsha, Tessa’s mom is out of the picture. Completely. I swear on my life.”
The light in Marsha’s eyes changes and fills with obvious sadness. “Roman…”
I take a deep breath. Tessa’s mom isn’t something I like to talk about. “To be honest with you, I didn’t know about Tessa until I was discharged from the Army. Melanie never told me she was pregnant. Hell, we’d only dated for a couple of months before I shipped out. We both knew it was a temporary thing. We were young.”
“Then what happened?” Marsha is no longer trying to pull her hand away from me, so I know I have to be honest with her.
I rub my free hand over my face and beard. “Melanie,” I exhale slowly, counting to five so I don’t lose my temper. Marsha hasn’t done anything wrong. “When I came back, she dropped Tessa off on my doorstep and told me it was ‘my turn’ to take care of her. Tessa was in grade school. After getting over the shock of suddenly having a child, I did what a man does – I stepped up and became a dad. Melanie has never come back, and I never want her to. I rarely even think about her.”
Marsha looks at me, questions in her eyes. “How does Tessa deal with this? I had the impression her mother wasn’t in the picture, but I didn’t know what you’ve just told me.”
“Tessa, she’s a good kid.” I inhale sharply through my teeth. “Most of the time, she’s a little trooper, but I know she still has emotions about her mom. Tessa has never forgiven her, and at this point, I’m not sure she ever will. If you ask her, she says she doesn’t want to see her.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Marsha says, her eyes glistening.
“It is,” I agree. “Melanie didn’t do right by either Tessa or me, and as far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist in our family. Having a family means making sacrifices and supporting one another. You never, ever leave someone behind. Abandoning Tessa is something I can and will never forgive. Believe me when I say Melanie isn’t a part of our lives at all and never will be.”
We sit for a long moment, and I let Marsha have space to process all of this. I know it sounds harsh, but Melanie lost her right to be Tessa’s mom the day she handed Tessa over and disappeared. It took me long enough to deal with my own emotions about her not telling me I was a father.
When Marsha smiles at me, every atom of my body explodes with joy. “Okay. I’m willing to make an exception to my rule. However,” she holds up a finger, “I have it on good authority that you have rules about dating. Tessa has told me about how you say she can’t date until college.”
“She can date when she’s thirty,” I say gruffly. I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay with the idea of a boy touching my daughter.
“She’s also told me that the deal is that you agreed not to date, too. How would this work?”
“We’re both going to break our rules. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since we met, it’s that you are a captivating woman. You’re smart, care deeply about Tessa, and are willing to fight for her. And, pardon my language, you’re sexy as fuck. If you think I could ever let you walk away from me and out of my life, you are sorely mistaken.”
Marsha’s face lights up with a sultry smile, and she moves her hand so that she’s stroking her fingers over my wrist. Desire builds in me, and there’s no way we’re ending this date without taking this further. Everything in my body is urging me to claim her, to make her and her sweet curves mine and mine alone.
“I feel the same way about you.”
“Good.” I exhale with relief. “Because I don’t want this to end.”