Page 2 of Wife Wanted

"Yeah, I'm desperate." I don't think he understands the situation I'm in. "I hate to admit it, but I can't keep counting on Mom and Dad to watch Rachel."

"What about Shayna? Have you heard anything from her?" He opens the door to the locker room, nodding at some of our co-workers as we walk toward our lockers.

"No." I sigh, shoving my hands through my hair. "She was served with the custody paperwork, and she signed over her parental rights, but I didn't hear from her even then. I'm going to be Rachel's only parent, which means I'm in this on my own. I can't count on my parents for much longer, they're older and I'm an only child. I have to do something."

"There's such thing as a nanny." His smart ass response causes me to chuckle.

"While you're right about that, I worry." I reach into the locker and pull out my bullet proof vest. "What if I take one in the head tonight. Who's going to take care of her. Won't be Shayna, will only be my parents for a small amount of time, compared to Rachel's life. That's the shit I think about. It keeps me up at night."

"Damn, Shane." He whistles between his teeth.

"Yeah, it's more than what you think. I have a responsibility to not only her, but my family as well. I can't let them all be scrambling to figure out what's going to happen if I don't make it home. That's not fair to anyone."

The silence between the two of us stretches like a piece of putty, almost breaking. "That's deep man." He blows out a breath. "All shit I'd never even thought about."

"Yeah, I hadn't either. Not until this situation was literally dropped at my feet. I don't want to seem as if I'm a martyr. I'm not. I still don't understand so much of what I'm doing, all I know is I want her to know she's loved."

"Do you worry about that?"

He's fucking full of questions today. "Yeah, what if she finds out that her mom dropped her on my doorstep, like an after thought? Never even told me she was pregnant or that she had a baby. I missed so much. What if she asks me what it was like for me to feel her kick for the first time?" I don't know any of that.

"For what it's worth, I believe you're overthinking all of this. What Rachel is going to care about is that she has a great dad and people who love her. She'll have her Uncle Alex, and I mean she's already winning in that department."

I scoff. "Give me a break. C'mon, let's get this shift started."

He nods. "Quicker we get started, the quicker we can get home."

Damn straight, and since I know Rachel will be waiting, I'm more anxious to get home, get sleep, and go pick her up from my mom and dad's. The only difference about the end of this shift? I'll be meeting with Miss May, trying to find the woman I'm going to make my wife.

CHAPTER TWO

Courtney

My upstairs neighbors are going at it again. Screaming and yelling, calling each other horrible names. I get my noise cancelling headphones out and have a seat in front of my laptop, trying to concentrate on the design job I have to finish before eight in the morning. Glancing over at the clock in the upper right hand corner of my laptop, I groan.

I'm stressing.

My creativity has taken a huge hit in the last few months.

Where things had once been super easy to come to me, I was awake at night thinking of all of the designs I could make. I'm struggling now to think of anything. A video message request is coming in from Facebook Messenger. Typically, I would ignore it to finish my work, but it's my best friend, Cammie.

Using the Bluetooth option on my headphones, I connect. "Hey..."

"Ohhh you have the headphones on. Does that mean your neighbors are arguing again?"

"Yes." I sigh heavily. "I've got to get out of here, and I was on my way to it until I hit this rough skid."

She sing-songs. "You know that Wife for Hire agency is looking for women. They always are."

"Just because you found your happily ever after from a matchmaker, doesn't mean I'm going to." I remind her, jerking when a loud noise comes from upstairs.

"It's got to be annoying living where you are, when there is a chance you could move. All you have to do is do the questionnaire, ya know, see if there's anyone you would match with."

She's getting on my fucking nerves. "You know I don't trust people the way you do."

"It's not about trust, Court. It's about being able to live. You haven't been able to do that for a couple of years now, have you?"

I hate that she knows me so well. "I haven't. Fuck. Okay, I'll do it. There's nothing really holding me here anyway." I'd moved into this apartment with my ex-boyfriend. He was 'the one' in a long line of men who I'd thought would be 'the one'. Blame it on a mother who'd gone from man to man, telling me to call each one of them dad, when I didn't even know who my real one was.

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