Chapter 3
Penny
Holy fucking shit balls.
I should have noticed right away from his tattoos, but I was sucked into the vortex of his yellow-green eyes and Viking-like stature.
Declan is Dec. My Dec.
Only, the man who just walked out the door is entirely different from the man who talks to me over text. If I didn’t have the tattoos to confirm my suspicions, I would have bet a million dollars that they weren’t the same person.
The picture on his dating app doesn’t show just how massive a person he is.
He has to be six foot four or six foot five, at least. He’s also a blonde.
Think Jax Teller’s season two slicked-back hairstyle, which is longish but only so he can push it behind the ears, and that’s what Declan’s hair looks like.
The scruff that lined his jaw was slightly darker than his sun-kissed hair, and when he spoke, the glint of a tongue piercing was visible in his mouth.
He’s easily the most ruggedly beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I never thought I would say that about someone his size, but I can’t deny how good-looking he is.
I’ve spent a lot of time looking at the photo he posted on his dating profile, and now that I’ve seen him face to face, I should have immediately known by the sunflower tattoo on his neck that he was my pen pal.
But I was distracted by his gruff demeanor.
My daughter would say that he has a “resting bitch face,” and you might think I’m joking but I’m not. She has zero filter.
I have so many questions, but the door chimes multiple times in a row, signaling the mid-day rush has begun, and my mind is pulled elsewhere.
My other new hire, Sage, is learning the ropes today and doing exceptionally well behind the counter, making drinks.
She doesn’t have the menu memorized like Wren did, but she’s worked at coffee shops before, too, and knows the basics.
I think I definitely made the right choice in hiring her and Wren.
I smile and give my customary greeting to the next customer, but my last thought before the person reaches the counter is, why in the hell is Declan here in Daybreak?
~ ~ ~
“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”
Leave it to my four-year-old to shock me speechless. We’re in the car on the way back from my parents’ house in Carlsbad, and my brain has been on overdrive since this afternoon.
I can’t stop thinking about Declan, and the questions keep piling up as the day goes on. He messaged me earlier today, but I didn’t message him back. And I’m not sure if I should. Should I tell him I know who he is? Or should I keep it a secret?
But my daughter's question has effectively short-circuited my brain for the time being.
This is the first time she’s asked me about her father, and to say I wasn’t prepared is an understatement.
“Um…what do you mean, baby girl?”
“The other kids have a daddy, and I don’t.”
Shit.
I’m not sure what to say, and like an asshole, I change the subject. “Do you want some ice cream when we get home?”
“Yes!” she shouts from her car seat in the back, and the breath I was holding leaves my mouth in an audible sigh.
Crisis averted… for now.
I knew this day would come, but I thought I would have more time.
Autumn is going to be five soon, and the older she gets, the more curious she is.
It never occurred to me that she would be interested in knowing about her dad at this age, but she’s always surprising me.
This just isn’t the good kind of surprise.
I don’t want to lie to her, but I have to. Not even my parents know the circumstances involving Autumn's conception or who it was with, and it has to stay that way.
I’ll have to think of a story later, but I effectively dodged a bullet. Let’s just hope my story is believable when I do come up with something.
I pull into our parking space at the back of the building, and we round the front to head up the stairs to the apartment.
“Who’s here, mommy?” Autumn asks. Music can be heard throughout the entire staircase, and I’m wondering the same thing.
Since the shop next door got sold, I’ve been wondering if the person was going to move into the apartment above. And I think I have my answer. I just hope he, or she, knows that the walls are thin and it’s not going to fly if they play music this loud at night.
“I’m not sure. I think we have a new neighbor, though.”
We ascend the stairs, and Autumn asks, “Like Ms. Connelly?”
“Yeah, like Ms. Connelly. But it could be a man. Or a family.”
Ms. Connelly owned the shop downstairs before she decided to retire and move to Florida. She was our neighbor for three years, and it destroyed Autumn when she moved over the summer.
When we reach the landing, Autumn starts dancing. Blink-182 drifts through the door, and I have to laugh because her dance moves are all over the place.
“I like this song, mommy.”
“Me too,” I tell her as I unlock the door to our apartment.
A second later, the door to the mystery person’s apartment opens, and Autumn and I both turn at the sound.
My eyes lock with the last person I expected to see.
“Dec…lan,” I say like an idiot. I know shock is written all over my face, but there’s no world in which I could hide it, even if I tried.
“You,” he says back and stares at me.
I think time stops, and I can’t seem to get my mouth to work. Is this some kind of joke the universe is playing? How is he living across from me?
And then it dawns on me. He bought the shop downstairs. He told me over text he was in the middle of a move, and now it’s all starting to make sense.
“Who is that, mommy?” Autumn asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I look down at my daughter in a daze. “Um…”
Declan seems to snap out of it and looks down at my daughter, who is blatantly staring at the giant man in front of us. He’s the one who looks shocked now. His eyebrows hit his forehead, and he looks from my daughter, to me, and back again.
“You’re huge,” my daughter says with wide eyes and no tact.
“Autumn!” I scold. “You need to apologize. You can’t just say that to someone. You could hurt their feelings, baby girl.”
“You did.”
My eyes snap towards Declan’s voice. “Excuse me?”
He raises an eyebrow and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. “You called me a Viking… and large. It’s the same thing.”
“I…uh…” I have no words. Because he’s right. I did say those things.
“You should apologize, mommy.”
The moment is stolen by a full belly laugh from Declan, something I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. The sound is warm, a stark contrast from his gruff demeanor earlier in the day, and Autumn and I both stare at him while he gets control of himself.
I can’t help but notice he’s changed his T-shirt from earlier, and the white cotton accentuates the color of his tattoos. His skin is otherwise golden, and the contrast is mesmerizing.
“You have art on your body.”
My eyes flick to Autumn, and it seems I’m not the only person in the room who is checking out the man in front of me.
Declan’s laugh subsides, and he looks at Autumn quizzically. “I do. I’m a tattoo artist.”
“Can I get a tattoo?”
“No,” Declan and I say in unison. We stare at each other for a beat, and he’s the one to break eye contact.
This interaction is just as awkward as it was in the coffee shop, with minimal words, stunted conversation, and weird stares.
My daughter doesn’t sense the awkwardness, though, and moves toward Declan with an outstretched hand like a grown human. “My name is Autumn, what’s your name?”
He stares at her hand, and I reach for her shoulder, ready to pull her back. Surprisingly though, Declan takes a step forward and grasps her hand for a half a beat before pulling away just as quickly. “My name’s Declan.”
“My mommy’s name is Penny.”
An involuntary blush rises to my cheeks, and I scold myself for not getting out of this situation sooner.
I don’t know why, but I didn’t want him to know my name just yet.
He’s going to put two and two together, especially since my name and nickname are pretty synonymous, and it’s going to be awkward as hell.
I wanted to avoid it for a little while longer.
I don’t say anything else, and he clears his throat.
“Anyway, I heard voices on the landing and thought I should introduce myself.” He tosses a thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll let you guys go. I’m sure your husband wouldn’t want you talking to a strange man.
I’ll have to introduce myself to him sometime. ”
“I don’t have a daddy,” Autumn says, and I mentally facepalm myself. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
Declan just stares at me, and I give him a tight-lipped smile because what else is there to say?
“We’re just gonna… go,” I tell him and grab Autumn by the shoulders to move her into the apartment.
“Bye, Dec!” she yells, looking back in his direction, and my gaze whips around to see his reaction to the nickname.
He’s still standing where we left him, and I swear I see his lip twitch, but he down nods to me and turns to go into his apartment.
Once I shut our door, I let out a shaky breath. That went… horribly. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that.
“I like him, mommy. He’s really big.”
“You’re not wrong,” I mutter as she strips out of her shoes and jacket.
I focus on getting her ready for bed, the ice cream long forgotten by the surprise of our new neighbor, and we settle into our night routine.
Once she’s all tucked in, I tell her, “Goodnight, baby girl. Sweet dreams.”
Just as I’m about to turn off the light, Autumn asks in her sleepy voice, “Can Dec be my daddy?”
Oh, fucking hell.
I squat back down next to her bed. “No, baby girl. He’s just a new neighbor.”
“But he looks like he could be a daddy. He’s old. And you could marry him.”
I chuckle at the ‘old’ comment. “But he’s a stranger, Autumn. I’m sorry, baby girl.”
“Okay, mommy.” She yawns and then closes her eyes, accepting my answer for what it is.
Just like earlier, I wasn’t prepared for this conversation. Where did she come up with that question? We just met the guy, and she’s asking if he can be her dad?
I rub the bridge of my nose and shut the door behind me as I leave her room. It must be a full moon because the weirdness of today is in full force.
One thing I know for sure, though, I have to tell Declan I know who he is. It would be wrong to keep that knowledge from him. And since he’s going to be my neighbor, honesty is the best policy. This isn’t a romance novel; this is real life. Keeping this from him would only end in disaster.
I throw my hair up in a messy bun and change into a gray, oversized crewneck sweatshirt, light blue sleep shorts, and fluffy gray socks. I take my phone to the couch because now is as good of a time as ever to rip off the Band-Aid.
I’m just not sure if I’m prepared for the fallout of him now knowing who I am.