Chapter 12
DAREK
Iwoke up the next day groggy, having barely slept.
Every time I had closed my eyes, I saw Liza standing in my kitchen, her cheeks flushed from the bourbon, her eyes meeting mine with that same confused hunger I felt.
I’d spent half the night reminding myself of all the reasons why touching her would be a catastrophically bad idea.
I found Liza and Daisie already in the kitchen when I came downstairs. Daisie was chattering about whales again while Liza made pancakes, and the scene was so domestic it made my chest ache.
This was exactly what I’d been afraid of last night.
“Morning,” I said, pouring myself coffee.
We moved through breakfast with the ease of people who’d been doing this for years instead of days.
Daisie ate her cereal while telling us about a book her teacher was going to read today.
Liza asked questions and made encouraging noises.
I drank my coffee and tried not to think about how nice this all felt.
After breakfast, I cleared my throat. “You’ll have the house to yourself today. I’m taking Daisie to school and then I’ll be down at the boathouse most of the day.”
“Oh.” Liza looked up from loading the dishwasher. “Is there anything I should do? Clean or cook something?”
I laughed. “No, we have a housekeeper. She comes twice a week. You’re free to do whatever you want. Use the office if you need to work on your research, go into town, whatever.”
“Okay.” She nodded, looking almost relieved to have some space.
I couldn’t blame her.
Twenty minutes later, I was backing out of the garage with Daisie buckled in the back seat. “Will Liza be there when I get home?”
“Yeah, she will be.”
“Good.” Daisie smiled. “I like her. She’s nice.”
“She is nice,” I agreed.
“And pretty.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
I glanced at my daughter in the rearview mirror. “Sure, kiddo.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
I nearly drove off the road. “What? No. Daisie, Liza is just staying with us for a little while.”
I was not going to get into the details. I didn’t trust Sasha not to make Daisie testify. If she told the lawyers or judge that I paid Liza to pretend to be my girlfriend to outsmart them, I could pretty much guarantee I would lose custody.
I dropped Daisie at school and headed back to my property instead of my office. Straight to my boathouse down by the water. I had cleared my schedule for the day. That was one of the perks of having managers who actually knew what they were doing. I had a project that needed my attention.
Liza was at the house, given free time to do whatever she wanted. She said she had some work to do. After those weird moments in the closet and the kitchen, I thought it was a good idea to get some space. Things were getting just a little too weird.
I liked her. It was such a strange feeling.
I liked hanging out with her. I liked getting to know her.
She wasn’t dramatic or self-centered. I didn’t really have friends.
I used to, but with the money, it was hard to know who was genuine.
It always felt like I had to keep my guard up.
With Liza, the boundaries were very clear. There were no hidden motives.
I walked into the boathouse. It was my sanctuary on my property.
It was nothing more than a weathered structure down by the water where the lawn met the dock.
Inside, it smelled like varnish and old wood.
It probably wasn’t healthy, but I inhaled the familiar scents that centered me in a way nothing else could.
I flipped on the lights. And there she was, sitting on blocks in the middle of the space. My first boat.
She wasn’t much to look at. A twenty-two-footer, fiberglass hull and showing her age.
I had bought her with money I saved from my first real job, back when owning any boat had felt like the height of success.
She was small, not fancy, not fast. But she was mine, and she represented everything I had worked for.
I’d been meaning to restore her for years, but there was always another project, another client’s yacht that took priority. Now, with Daisie getting older, I had a reason to finally do it. She was almost old enough to start learning how to operate a boat. I wanted her first vessel to be this one.
I hadn’t told anyone. People assumed I would build something fancy. Luxurious. But that wasn’t what I wanted for Daisie’s first boat. It needed to be special. It was going to be a surprise for her next birthday.
I pulled on work gloves and grabbed the sanding block, getting to work on the hull. The boat needed everything. New paint, new hardware, and the engine rebuilt from scratch. I started with the basics, stripping away years of weathering to get down to the good bones underneath.
The physical work felt good. I sanded until my shoulders burned, until sweat soaked through my t-shirt and my muscles screamed for a break. I pushed myself harder than necessary, using the pain to distract from thoughts I didn’t want to have.
Thoughts about Liza.
Why couldn’t Della have found me a less attractive woman? Someone with a snaggletooth or who hated kids? Someone who didn’t make me forget my own name every time she walked into a room?
This woman was driving me nuts.
She listened when I asked for distance between her and Daisie. So, instead of spending a lazy Sunday with Daisie and me, she had gone into town to explore Cloudhaven. She was giving us space. All of us.
Liza wasn’t naive or stupid. She felt the chemistry simmering between us. Neither of us wanted to cross that line.
So she had gone out to scout around and I had taken Daisie out on the yacht for a few hours. It was just the two of us. She loved being out on the water with me, and that day had been no different.
We had anchored in a quiet cove and ate sandwiches. We watched the birds, talked about her friends at school and our plans for summer break. It had been perfect.
But the whole time, thoughts of Liza kept interrupting me. Hiring her had been a huge mistake, but I didn’t quite know how to fix it. Those same thoughts assaulted me as I sanded the hull with more force than was strictly necessary.
The thing was, Liza wasn’t just attractive. She was smart and funny and genuine, and she was good with my daughter in ways that made me question my life choices. She fit into our lives so harmoniously it scared me.
Too easy.
Once I figured out the custody situation, I decided I needed to actually date.
I wanted to find a mother figure for Daisie.
Just the thought of dating nauseated me.
I hated that whole song and dance. And again, my financial success made it difficult to sus out who was interested in me for me and not just for my money.
Plus, there was no such thing as casual dating for a single parent. I didn’t have any nights off, so spending time with someone new basically required Daisie to be around. And I wasn’t about to parade a string of random women through my baby girl’s life.
If and when I got married again, it was going to be forever. Or at least for the next eleven years. Once Daisie made it to college. I had to keep her life stable until then.
Just thinking about the idea of getting married made me feel itchy. And squirmy. I was not ready for any of that. It was the whole reason I had hired a woman through the Faux Agency in the first place.
Speak of the devil.
I heard footsteps behind me and turned to find Liza standing in the doorway of the boathouse. She looked sexy as hell.
Her clothes weren’t even remotely skimpy—just jeans and a simple t-shirt—but they showed off her curves in ways that made my brain short-circuit.
Her hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders and she wore no makeup.
Her tennis shoes were worn. Nothing about her should have said sexy, but damn, it did.
Maybe it had just been too long since I’d gotten laid. Maybe any woman would have this effect on me.
But I knew that was a lie. It wasn’t any woman.
It was her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, more gruffly than I actually meant the question to be.
“I was bored and was wandering around the grounds when I saw this place.” She stepped inside, looking around at the boat, the tools, the organized chaos of my workspace. “I can go if you want to be alone.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and ominous. I glanced toward the doorway, saw dark clouds gathering on the horizon.
“Storm’s coming,” I said.
“I know. That’s why I decided to go for a walk now. Figured I would be cooped up in the house for the rest of the day.”
“I thought you were working,” I said.
I went back to sanding, hyper-aware of her presence. She didn’t leave, just leaned against the workbench and watched me. I kept glancing her way when she wasn’t looking, drawn to her in a way I couldn’t control and didn’t entirely understand.
“What are you doing?” she asked after a few minutes. “I mean, don’t you have a whole operation? This feels very much in the manual labor category. Like not in the billionaire job description.”
I smirked. “This was my first boat.” I ran my hand along the hull, feeling the rough patches where the sanding hadn’t reached yet. “Had her for almost fifteen years now. She’s been in dry dock for a while, but I’m fixing her up.”
“Oh, cool. So you can sell her?”
I hesitated, then decided there was no harm in telling her. “Daisie is almost old enough to start learning how to drive a boat. I’m going to give her this one as a gift. Teach her on the same boat that taught me.”
“That’s the sweetest thing in the world. Sharing something like that with your daughter.”
“Yeah, well. I want her to love the water the way I do. Want her to have that freedom and the connection to the sea.”
“My father never shared anything like that with me.” There was a wryness to her voice, a dark humor that didn’t quite hide old pain. “In high school, he’d occasionally lend me his car when he was too drunk to drive.”
“Sheesh, Liza.”
“It’s fine. Ancient history. I guess my dad has always been a bit of a mess.” She shrugged. “But seeing you with Daisie and the way you think about what she needs is really special.”
I set down the sanding block and grabbed a rag, wiping sweat from my forehead. “I don’t know if it’s special or if I’m just trying too hard. Overcompensating for having a shitty ex-wife and knocking up the wrong woman.”
“You’re not overcompensating. You’re being a good father.”
“I want to be. I try every day.” The words came out raw, revealing just a little too much of my inner pain.
“But I struggle with it. Wonder if I’m doing enough and giving her what she needs.
And now everyone is questioning whether I’m even fit to take care of her.
The court, Sasha’s lawyers, probably half the people at that yacht club. ”
“They’re wrong.”
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. She said the words with total conviction. I didn’t get it. She didn’t know me. Not really. How could she sound so certain?
“I guess we’ll see,” I murmured and went back to sanding.