9. Ian
9
IAN
For a guy who’s gone to great lengths to avoid serious relationships, I’m blown away at how much I like being in a fake one with Sadie. So much so that I want more. More than she’s willing to give, anyway.
That’s right. The one woman who makes me consider lowering a few of my rock-solid defenses so she can come closer, is a woman who doesn't seem to want to be near me at all. Well, other than for the purpose of putting our fake dating life on display for her sister’s friends in town before the wedding weekend anyway.
Which makes me an idiot, and I can’t even stop myself. That’s right. A man known for his discipline and composure is being undone by a woman who doesn’t want me. Not like I want her.
It was adorable how flummoxed she got at the farmers market when I called her my girl. But it’s annoying as shit the way her demure blush makes my heart race. And let’s not even get into what that sweet smile and her habit of biting down on her bottom lip does to the rest of my body.
Or the fact that I want a chance to have my way with her full mouth. I want to see those lips wrapped around my?—
Nope. Not going there again. I’m already taking multiple showers a day so I can jerk off in an attempt to keep my dick under control.
Spoiler alert: it’s not working.
I tell myself I have a legit reason to spend time with my sexy neighbor. Something more than showcasing the chemistry I’m not faking. Riva likes her. And whether she realizes it or not, I’m learning a crap ton about relating to a preteen girl from Sadie.
I also respect the hell out of her for the dedication she shows to her job. She’s so good with my daughter and the dogs who adore her, it blows my mind that she’s not married with kids of her own.
The comparison between being a dog and human mom might offend some people, but it takes a lot of patience to do what she does plus deal with the owners, who are a pretty high maintenance bunch. She's always getting last-minute phone calls or urgent texts with requests to drop everything and pick up a dog who isn’t on her schedule so that the owners can go live their best lives. Since we've been hanging out, she hasn't taken a day off or even had an hour to herself that I can tell.
I’m used to worrying about only myself—and now my daughter. It’s a real eye-opener to watch someone do so much for people and expect nothing in return.
I’ve started channeling my inner Sadie when I'm dealing with Riva and the responsibility of single fatherhood. Having Sadie in our lives to run interference when I misstep in the parenting department—which happens plenty—eases a lot of the pressure.
I tag along with them more than I should because I also miss my daughter when she’s helping take the dogs on a hike or doing errands during the day. It’s not like I can get a do-over on all that time I missed when she was younger, so I’m soaking in every moment I can now.
Instead of being their shadow, I should be figuring out what I’m going to do next with my life. I had a few lucrative broadcast offers when I first announced my retirement, but that means traveling during the NFL season, and I’m not doing that to my kid. She needs me to be steady and stable, so I have to find something that will keep me in one place.
Now I understand why so many ex-athletes end up owning car dealerships. I’m hardly qualified for anything that would take more skill or training.
But I want whatever I do next to mean something. Problem is, the only thing that’s ever meant anything to me is football.
“Sally and Trina are here,” Riva calls as she pounds down the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”
“Use your good manners,” I tell her as I intercept her at the front door.
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I sound like a tool. Or an octogenarian grandma who sucks on those disgusting butterscotch candies all day. Maybe Riva won’t notice.
“Really?” She pulls to a stop and cocks her head as she shoots me a glare. “Do you think my manners are bad?”
Another misstep.
“Your manners are perfect. Sorry, Rivs. It just seemed like something a parent would say,” I admit. “That sh—crap is new to me, so I’m still working on my technique. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be polite and a pleasure to be around.”
A pleasure? Sheesh.
“I mean you’ll be awesome. Sadie’s friends are going to have an awesome time with you. Because you’re awesome. Amazeballs. The best. I’m going to shut my pie hole now.”
To my surprise, her shoulders soften and she smiles. “Hey, Ian. Don’t strain yourself trying too hard.”
“Call me Dad. And are you teasing me? Because I think that means you like me. Admit it, kid. You like me.”
Riva rolls her eyes but giggles. “You’re being weird, Dad .”
She’s right, but at the moment my heart is expanding in my chest. Who knew I’d like the role of the weird, cringey dad so much? Not me, but I do.
“Have a good time tonight.”
“You, too, on your big date.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Remember there are no gross paparazzi in Skylark, so if you kiss her, it's not going to end up all over the internet.”
She starts to open the door, but I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not planning to kiss her…” No matter how much I want to. “And if we do kiss, it’s for show. You understand that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You also understand a kid shouldn’t have to see photos on the internet of either of her parents kissing people.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she answers but keeps her gaze on the doorknob.
We are both aware that it is, indeed, a big deal, although it took me until now to realize it. I’ve been naive to think of my daughter as a little kid who isn’t affected by her parents’ public personas. Twelve-year-olds are way more worldly than I remember being. It’s become abundantly clear my daughter has been exposed to a lot more than I would have wanted. And I have no right to pass judgment on Monika since I haven't played the role I should have in raising her before she came to Colorado.
“Well, since you put all those dumb parental controls on my tablet, I can’t search anything interesting.” She makes a face. “Not that seeing pictures of Mom and her boyfriend canoodling on the beach is interesting.”
“Canoodling moms are the worst,” I agree with a grimace, prompting both another eye roll and smile. “For the record, I might order a ‘dum dum dad’ bumper sticker and slap it on the back of my car.”
She laughs out loud.
I smile broadly, feeling the satisfaction of that moniker all the way down to my toes. Dumb parents are boring and normal, which is just what I want for my girl. It’s what my brother and I would have killed for growing up, but never got.
A dad who regularly made booze-fueled scenes and got carted off for drunk and disorderly in a town where everyone knew our business didn’t feel normal. Trying to run interference so he wouldn’t take his frustrations with life out on our mom was never boring. In the worst way possible.
My daughter might be worldly and wise in her own way, but she doesn’t know the constant anxiety of my turbulent youth. And she never will.
“I love that for you, Ia—Dad. Bring Sadie flowers or something. She likes daisies.”
“Daisies. Got it. Thanks.” I wave to Sally and Trina, waiting at the curb in their white Jeep. They’re taking Riva to dinner and a movie because Sally thinks Sadie and I should be seen in town on a date, just the two of us.
I expected my daughter to protest. I might not be her favorite person, but she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to make friends her age, and still won’t talk to anyone in the neighborhood other than Sadie and her clients. Yet she’s thrilled to be hanging out with Sally and Trina, and happy for me to have a night out with Sadie.
She’s not the only one. Although, I shouldn’t admit that even to myself. This is fake. Sure, I like Sadie, but not because she’s sweet and beautiful and smells like summertime. I like her because she’s helping smooth the waters with my daughter, and that’s not enough of a reason to make this anything more than a good show for the Skylark public.
It also turns out I’m a man who wants a sure thing, which doesn’t speak highly of my confidence or courage when it comes to relationships or things that matter in general. I was fearless on the field, but that was about what I could do, not who I am as a human.
If I could be the kind of man a woman like Sadie Hart deserves, I’d do it in a second. A heartbeat.
But I can’t. Because football is all I’m good at, just like my dad always told me.