2. Leah
2
Leah
So much for my plan to get in this house, do what needs doing and get out again as fast as is humanly possible. The truth is that this home is full of my parents, their essence, and I’m here stripping it away so that some new family can move in and make happy memories. As I clear the place, it takes a piece of my soul each time.
Just a month ago, I had a mum and dad. The amount of times I was at college and I saw their names flash on my mobile phone screen and I ignored it because I couldn’t be bothered to talk to them… now I’d do anything to hear their voices. Wiped out in the blink of an eye in a hit and run. The driver on drugs has shown no remorse, just feeble excuses that he can’t remember what happened.
I’ll never forget. The police at my door asking if they could come in and then telling me something that would change my life forever.
And now I’m sitting at a kitchen table in the house next door while a little girl tells me her life story and her dad walks towards me with a first aid kit.
What’s worse is that I’m perfectly capable of cleaning my own wound and putting a plaster on it, but I’m so going to let him do it, because my god, he’s sexy as all hell, and my life has to have some good in it.
I look at the tall sex god walking towards me. If I’d known he lived next door, I’d have visited more often. He must be six foot tall. His dark blonde hair is shaved at the sides. I want to stroke my fingers on it to feel the stubble. He has sculpted cheekbones; a strong nose; and soft, pink lips. My eyes travel down taking in his beard. I bet that would tickle…
“Okay, swing your legs around to me, so I can get to that cut.”
My breath hitches at his gruff tone. God, he can command me any day. I do as he asks.
Jenson drops down to his knees. Oh boy...
He dips the cotton wool in the bowl of warm water, and then his head tips up towards me, his hazel eyes meeting my own blues.
“This might hurt a bit.”
Fuck, my mind had gone to him being between my legs and apologising for his mammoth dick, but no, as the warm water bathes my cut and I wince, I’m reminded that boringly he really is just cleaning my wound.
“Daddy, you’re getting Leah all wet.” Amelia jumps off her stool and runs off. She comes back over with a towel and hands it to him.
“Erm, yeah, sorry about that.” He drops the used cotton wool in the bowl and pats at my leg gently.
“It’s not a problem. I’ll soon dry off in this heat anyway. Not like yesterday. I was outside and got caught in a downpour. I was soaking wet then.”
Leah, shut the fuck up about being wet , I tell myself, while trying not to think about the fact that I am indeed soaking wet, my knickers damp, because of the ministrations of this stranger on my knee. Turned on by first aid. Whatever next? I can tell it’s been a while since someone paid my body any attention.
“Okay, it’s clean. Now I’ll just put a plaster on.”
“No, Daddy, Leah needs the magic cream.” Amelia turns to me. “Daddy rubs it on very, very carefully so it doesn’t hurt too much and do you like pink or purple best because I like you and so you can have one of my princess plasters. Then when you’ve had your pancakes, I can show you my bedroom because that’s got princesses everywhere.”
“I must apologise. My daughter is princess mad.” Jenson looks into his daughter’s eyes. With him being on his knees, I can see the look of love that passes between them. “Baby girl, when we’ve had pancakes, Leah will have to go back because she was busy in the garden, wasn’t she?”
Amelia’s expression sinks with disappointment and her shoulders slump. “Okay, Daddy.” She turns to me. “You just look like one of my princesses. I called her Sophie, but now I’m going to change her name to Leah. Princess Leah.”
I see Jenson’s mouth curl up at the corner at this. Obviously the Star Wars reference isn’t lost on him even if my name isn’t spelled or sounds exactly that way. God, now my mind is imagining my hair curled up like Princess Leia’s and some kind of kinky role play. I really need to get laid and soon.
I note Jenson’s hesitation before he picks out the tube of Savlon from his first aid kit, unscrews the lid and then pushes out a small bit of cream. He then shakes his head and offers it to me. “Do you want to do this?”
“No, Daddy. Don’t be silly. The magic is in your fingers. How is Leah’s knee going to get better without the magic?” She eye rolls him, which is entirely adorable. Her dark blonde, curly hair shakes around her shoulders. Her eyes are the exact colour of her dad’s.
“Well, if your daddy’s fingers are magic then I’d better let him put the cream on.” I’m openly smirking now. It goes completely over Amelia’s head, but there’s a faint blush to her father’s cheeks. He mouths, “Oh my god,” at me, followed by, “sorry.”
Then he begins to rub the cream onto my graze.
“Can you feel the magic?” Amelia says wide-eyed, looking at me eagerly.
“I really, really can. Amelia, your daddy really does have magic fingers.” I say, watching as Jenson’s face creases up with awkwardness.
“Amelia. Why don’t you go and fetch that princess doll you wanted to show Leah?” Jenson says.
“Oh, good idea. I’ll be right back, Leah. Don’t go anywhere.” She goes running off and I hear her little footsteps pad upstairs. The minute she’s out of the room, Jenson stops rubbing at my knee and sits back groaning.
“I am so sorry. This is the most awkward encounter I’ve had with a female in a long time.”
That’s it, I’m gone. I laugh loudly, and I welcome it because it’s the first joy I’ve felt in weeks. “Now, I’m not going to complain about your magic fingers.”
He holds a hand over his eyes peeping through them. “Stop, please. I’m so embarrassed.” He hands me a plaster. Quick, put this on. Sorry but it has to be a princess one; you’re not going to get away with anything less.”
“You mean I have to place this on myself? No more magic fingers?” I pout at him.
“Nope, I have to pace myself, or I’ll lose my magic touch.” He winks and this time it’s my turn to feel a little heat at my cheeks. Is this just banter to break an awkward moment or is he actually flirting with me?
I don’t get time to think on it any further as a Disney Cinderella doll is more or less thrown at me. “See, it’s Cinderella, but I like to rename them and make my own stories for them, so this was Princess Sophie, but now she’s Princess Leah, and look she’s hurt herself in the garden.” Amelia points to where she’s drawn a red graze on the doll’s knee with what looks like felt-tip pen. “Now the prince can make the princess better later.” she tells me. “Oh, great, you have the princess plaster on. You’ll be better in no time, won’t she, Daddy?” Her little voice rambles on at a hundred miles an hour. “Now it’s time for pancakes. Do you want raspberry sauce and chocolate sprinkles?”
“Erm, what else is there?”
“Sugar, lemon juice, chocolate sauce, orange juice, maple syrup. I have to keep a supply of everything in with this young lady. Her tastes can be very demanding.”
“I’ll have sugar and lemon juice on mine please.”
“Coming right up. Amelia?”
“Raspberry sauce done as a smiley face please, and chocolate sprinkle eyebrows and a moustache.” She giggles. “Daddy makes the best faces on pancakes. He’s so funny. Did your daddy make you pancakes when you were a little girl?”
And just like that I feel sliced in two. Like an ice-cold wind has hit my throat on a cross-country run, I gasp. My hands going to my mouth.
“Shoot, I’m so sorry.” Jenson asks.
I breathe deeply. You’re okay, Leah , I tell myself. It will pass .
“What’s the matter?” Amelia looks panicked.
“My cut stung a little.” I lie. “But it’s okay now.”
I watch as she scrambles onto her chair at the table, sitting next to me.
“My daddy used to make me runny eggs with soldiers. Have you had those?”
Amelia’s head nods up and down eagerly. “Oh yes, I love those. Come tomorrow and Daddy can make us them.”
“I might be busy tomorrow…” I say, noting the disappointment hit her features once more.
Pancakes are placed in front of me and Jenson offers me a coffee to go with it. I’d not had breakfast this morning and I hadn’t realised just how hungry I’d become. The pancakes are delicious: thin, crispy, and just the right amount of sweet and sour. I clear my plate in no time and then find yet another placed on my plate. I manage three before I shake my head at Jenson’s offer of another.
“Wow, I think I’m going to burst.” I say rubbing at my stomach. I note Jenson’s eyes linger at my breasts for a second. Yeah, my ample rack looks like it could burst from my top any time. I might be short, but I’m stacked.
Finishing up my coffee, I clamber off my seat. “Well, thanks for the breakfast, guys, and for treating my poorly knee. I’d better get back to work now. I have some men coming over later to help clear the house and do some repairs.”
“So, are you moving in?” Jenson asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’m getting the place ready for sale. It needs a little updating and then I can get it on the market.” I don’t explain about the debt I’d found my parents had got themselves in unknown to me. How they’d been ripped off by a scam. Now I needed to get the best price for the house to clear the debt because they’d no other money left to cover anything. I’d be lucky to walk away with a penny after all this; but selling the house would draw a line under it all. Then I could try to move on with my life.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help?” Jenson says. It’s the kind of empty gesture people make to you when someone has died. I’ve heard it aplenty the last few weeks and yet with Jenson, I feel it’s a genuine offer, that if I said right now that I needed the lawn mowing, he’d be there. But he has his little girl to take care of. I don’t know where her mum is, maybe at work, but I don’t see a ring on his finger.
“Thanks, but I’ll let you get on.” I say. “Maybe I’ll meet Mrs Hale sometime?”
God, I can’t help myself.
“Oh no.” Amelia says. “Mummy doesn’t live here. She fucked off to New York, didn’t she, Daddy?”
I watch as Jenson wipes his palms down his face and once more peers through his fingers at me with a look of horror.
I place my own hand over my mouth stifling the giggle that threatens to unleash itself. I also note my inward pleasure at the fact that Jenson Hale is a hot single daddy. Suddenly, despite the shit going on in my life, there seems to be a rainbow appearing between the clouds. A six-foot muscular rainbow named Jenson.