Helena’s New Daddy

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Helena Thompson wiped the sweat off her head as she slammed her car trunk closed on all her usual housekeeping supplies. She decided against heading back to her office to drop off her dirty rags and planned to just wash them at home and get everything ready for Monday morning.

She waved goodbye to her Friday afternoon client, a lovely older lady who couldn’t keep up with cleaning anymore. Once in her car, she sent a text to her boss letting her know Mrs. Nielson’s home was done and that she was ahead of schedule. Helena ended with saying she would see her on Monday and to have a good weekend.

Her cheery boss thanked her, and off she went home to quickly drop off her rags and change into comfy clothes. Only five minutes from her house, it made sense to just return home anyway. Once she had them thrown in the wash and she was freshened up, she grabbed her textbooks and headed back to the car.

Helena parked her sensible car by her favorite bookstore, already smelling the fresh baked goods and coffee. She was thankful she had changed out of her uniform when she got home, not wanting to smell like strong cleaning products for the rest of her Friday afternoon. Gathering her textbooks, she settled into her usual booth and ordered herself some much-needed coffee and treats and settled herself into her studies.

“Chapter Eight, ‘Death Rituals Around the World’,” she mumbled to herself as she sipped her coffee. “Let’s see...Viking funeral rites.” And just like that, she was immersed in information and was able to shut out the world around her.

Helena took out her note cards and made herself study guides to prep for her next exam. She had a couple more years to go in her mortuary science degree, but it was worth it. She considered herself lucky to live close to a university that offered the program and still be able to support herself. When Helena stretched her neck and rubbed her eyes, they fell on a handsome man sitting across the cafe portion of the bookstore. He paused typing on his laptop to smile and wave at her, and Helena’s cheeks flushed. She nervously gripped her sleeves around her wrists and pulled them down, self-conscious of how she may have currently looked. Her top bun was probably losing its grip on her sea of chocolate curls, and she had thrown on some ratty old leggings that were ripped in the inner seam. Damn thick thighs never let her have a nice pair of pants for long.

She waved back at him.

He had hair that was buzzed on the sides with the top slicked back in a sleek but sexy style. His full beard perfectly framed his square jaw that drew her gaze down to tattoos that covered what little bare chest she could see. His forearms, exposed by his rolled-up dress shirt, also sported tattoos. Helena shook her head realizing she was staring at the stranger. But he still smiled when she fidgeted, playing it off like she was looking at something else.

“Stupid, stupid.” She went back to her work, unable to resist small glances every now and then at the man.

Helena felt a large presence above her as a shadow swallowed her work space. Instantly, her stomach felt nauseated. She hated when people stood over her, especially men.

“Hey, sugar. What are you doing?”

“Studying.” Her tone was clipped.

“Ahh, what’s all this?”

His sweaty, meaty hand flipped through her textbook which was somewhat falling apart as it had been rented. She pulled it toward her.

“Uh, mortuary science.” She refused to make eye contact with him.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to look at a man when he’s speaking to you, little girl?”

Helena wanted to gag as his odor overwhelmed her. He leaned over her table and laughed.

“Come on, I won’t bite. Have a coffee with me.”

“No, I’m busy.” She briefly met his eyes to discover he was just as disgusting as he sounded. His long goatee was greasy and his shirt was stained with god knows what.

“Then when are you not busy? I can take you out somewhere real nice?”

He dragged a chair up and sat beside her. Helena began to swiftly pack her things.

“No, no, don’t go. Stay with me.”

“Thank you, but no. I need to go.”

She felt one large hand fall on her shoulder and she jumped, causing all her books to fall onto the floor.

By now, the scene had garnered some attention from other patrons. Heat rushed up her throat and face, and Helena wished she could just vanish in thin air.

“Clumsy little girl.”

He got up and attempted to help her, but the over stimulation had gotten the best of her, and she prepared to swat his hand away.

“Just go away!” Helena snapped.

“Hey, baby, I got you the book you wanted.” Another man’s voice filled her space, and she was ready to scream. But when she looked up, it was the man from across the cafe who’d smiled at her. He held out a book on pagan rituals.

Did he call her baby?

“Um… thank you.” She shakily took the book and sat back down, now realizing he was in a wheelchair and could meet her at eye level this way.

“Who’s this guy?” Her rescuer cocked his head to the other man, who began backing away.

“No one I know.” She shook her head, hugging the book to her chest, desperate for pressure.

“Yo. Keep it moving.” He only slightly raised his voice, but it was enough to make the harassing man leave.

His eyebrows pinched in the middle but softened when his hazel eyes fell back on her.

“You’re okay. Breathe. I’m sorry if that was too forward. I could just see that he was bothering you.” His voice was soft, not at all big and booming like the typical men she encountered.

“No, no, I’m glad you did. I’m sorry… I kind of freeze up when...” her voice trailed off.

Too much information, Helena.

“You don’t need to apologize.” One hand moved a small joystick on the pin pad of his chair, and he moved slightly closer to her.

“I’m Grayson Edwards.”

He held out that same hand, and Helena nervously took it, noticing it was slightly contorted. Afraid of hurting him, she just barely squeezed it.

“Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me. It’s just a contracture. I have cerebral palsy.” He spoke casually, and Helena exhaled.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t really know much about that. But I’ve heard of it.” She put her book down, breathing a bit easier around him.

She cringed when she realized what she said.

“I-I didn’t mean I’m sorry for you; I just mean sorry I… have no idea what that is,” she sputtered and covered her red face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I get that a lot. I sustained nerve damage after a virus I contracted as a baby. The doctors killed it with steroids and”—he held out his long, tattooed arms away from his chair—“this is what you get.” Still, the smile on his face never faded. He had laugh lines around the corners of his eyes, and Helena melted.

“Wow...” She scolded herself.

Wow ? That’s all she could say?

“So, what are you studying?”

“Mortuary science. I’m in school to be a mortician.”

“Holy shit, really?”

He rolled just a bit closer, silently asking permission to look at her book. She slid it over to him, and he carefully flipped the pages.

“This is insane.” His contracted hand managed to flip the pages easily, while his other hand supported the book. She couldn’t help but look at them, and the way the veins stood out.

His eyes grew large as he showed genuine interest in her chosen field, a first for her as no one had really shown interest at all in what she wanted to do. It wasn’t the conventional profession.

“Do you think so?”

“I commend you. I can tell you’ll do well.” He gave her book back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, Helena.” She took his hand, this time giving it a proper shake.

“Helena.”

He slowly repeated it in a way that made heat pool between her legs. Why did it sound so sensual when he said it?

“What do you do?”

“I’m an addictions counselor. I have been for about five years now. I work from home and see patients virtually.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” She cringed again at how bad that sounded. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant from home. God I’m sorry, you must think I’m an idiot.” Helena scrubbed her face with her dry hands.

“Absolutely not. Don’t ever say that. Something about me is different. I invite questions. A lot of people make assumptions about me and what I can or cannot do based on how I look, but sometimes they just don’t know any better. Unless they have someone, they see in daily life with a disability, it’s easy to resort back to starter-pack knowledge.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Helena cocked her head at the term.

“A lot of people don’t have experience with disability of any form in their lives, only receiving a basic education, maybe for a course in school. So, I can understand why it would be easy to assume I was in an accident or that someone would be confused by my appearance if they have only ever seen one side of the cerebral palsy spectrum.”

Helena felt better, but still a little embarrassed.

“You’re really understanding.”

And so handsome.

“Helena, when can I see you again?”

She almost choked on her coffee.

He wants to see me?

“Why?”

“So I can be sure to clean this thing off to look good for you.” He gestured to his wheelchair.

“You have to do that?” She leaned over and glanced at the laterals of his chair, with two pouches zip tied on to the arm rests.

“Only if I’m trying to impress a pretty girl.”

Helena violently blushed.

“Um… yeah. Yes! Do you want my number?”

He held out his hand in a silent yes. Their fingertips brushed when she passed her phone to him, sending volts of electricity through her hand.

He passed her his own phone and she did the same.

“What are you doing tonight?”

How come he’s so interested in me?

“Probably making some pasta and taking a bath. I’m a housekeeper so… I get dirty.” She wanted to slap her hand to her face. Was she trying to make this sexual?

Helena swore she heard a hum come from deep in his chest.

“Why don’t you call me when you’re all done? I’ll be home.”

Realizing she was likely running the risk of asking another stupid question, she figured she had nothing to lose.

“Um, how are you getting home?”

“I live right around the corner. I roll everywhere I need to go since the grocery store and all my favorite places are right here. If I must go very far, I use public transportation.”

Helena suddenly felt concerned. “Is it safe?”

He chuckled. “Yes, very safe. But don’t worry about me, let me worry about you. Let me walk you to your car. Unless you haven’t finished studying?”

“No, I’m all done for the night I think.” She gathered up her belongings and they headed for the door. She sped up and prepared to open the door for him, but he stopped her.

“No, my father always told me a gentleman opens the door for a lady and I’m no exception.”

Grayson punched the button next to the door, automatically opening it.

“Thank you, sir.” She bit her lip at her slip up. That part of herself was far too special to let out.

Yet.

She saw a hint of a smile from the corner of her eye.

“This is me.” She unlocked her car and climbed in. Grayson held the door open for her while she set her things in the passenger seat.

“Well, thank you for rescuing me.”

“I’ll rescue you anytime, princess.”

Both froze as they silently acknowledged his pet name. Her shoulders instantly relaxed and she felt even safer in his presence.

Helena peeked up at him below her long lashes. The air around them suddenly became heady, and she didn’t want him to go.

“Tell you what. Text me when you get home. Let me know you’re all right.”

Helena eagerly nodded, shakily putting her keys in the ignition.

“Thank you… Grayson.” She liked how his name sounded on her tongue.

He gently closed the door after her. He may not have known, but she appreciated him not slamming the door. Loud noises still bothered her.

He waved her off as she pulled out. All the way home she couldn’t keep from smiling, peeking in her rearview mirror until she couldn’t see his chair anymore. All these years and they lived that close, and they never ran into each other?

Helena suddenly felt guilty, wondering if their paths ever did cross and she didn’t give him a second look. Not out of malice, but possibly out of fear of offending him if she did look.

Once she walked in the door, she texted him that she got home okay.

Good girl, He texted back.

She practically squeaked as she tossed her phone on the couch. Could he really be a Dominant? How was it possible?

She flopped on her bed and opened her laptop, searching for information on cerebral palsy.

Clinical looking old photos of children and adults alike with articles dating back several decades stared back at her. She figured these were before anyone had a true understanding of what the disease was. Helena discovered there were five different types of cerebral palsy, or CP as the internet shortened it. She read extensively on each type, and what could cause it. Brain injury during or after birth, and premature birth topped the list.

Helena was led down a rabbit hole of information, watching videos of small, smiling children learning how to use large apparatuses to walk or engaging in their physical and occupational therapy. Helena was aware some internet research wouldn’t fully prepare her for another encounter with Grayson, as he was his own case, but it was better than going in blindly.

She shut her laptop, lying down and staring at the ceiling as she rehearsed what she would say when they met again.