Page 5 of Fake Daddy

I listen to the two of them talk about the players and their excited chatter over finally seeing Cormac Payne on the ice. The man is the best player in the world, and he’s a local kid who jumped at the chance to join the league's newest team.

As soon as we arrive home, Tyler takes the car to fill up the tank while I get the grill going for the burgers I premade last night, so we’d just have to grill them up. Evan runs along to put fresh sheets on their beds and then sets the table as I mix together a garden salad.

By the time Tyler walks back in the house, I’m putting the food on the table, and we sit to chow down. The boys fill me in on their weeks because even though we text or call almost daily, we try to save the good stuff for Friday nights when we have our first meal of the week together.

If I’m honest, these reconnections have been my favourite days of the month for a long time. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

CHAPTER 3

Darling

Breathing through my nerves as I wait for the Baker boys to arrive, I nearly breathe myself into hyperventilating and passing out before I pop a Warhead candy into my mouth and suck until my heart and brain reset. It’s an old trick my psychiatrist taught me shortly after meeting her. The candy is so sour it shocks the parts of my body stuck in panic and anxiety into forgetting what’s happening.

Once I’m breathing normally again and don’t feel like I’m stuck inside an old oil barrel with no way out, I take a drink of my caramel latte and focus on my task checklist. Marking things off as finished helps keep me on track. Having something to focus on allows my body to work on autopilot without worrying about being overwhelmed.

“Good morning, Darling!” Linda sings as she enters through the front door. “How was your night?”

Handing her the other latte that I stopped to get on my way in, I reply, “Good. Grabbed some Chinese takeout on my way home, caught the last period of the Bears game, and read the next chapter in the thriller book I’ve been reading for too many weeks.”

“Yeah? Great. But what I’m dying to know is when you’re going to start dating, hmmm. Dan and I have been married so long, I forget what all the fuss is about. I need to live vicariously through you girls.” She exaggerates batting her long, dark lashes at me.

“No prospects in sight, sadly. I don’t even know what I like in a man.” She rolls her eyes at me.

“Well. That’s depressing,” she mutters while shaking her head and going to her office to work on this week’s payroll.

Two more employees are scheduled to work today. There are no walk-ins on Saturdays, only appointments, so I’m not concerned about it getting too busy with the three of us.

As I finish readying the salon for the day by making fresh coffee, stocking the customer fridge with drinks, and picking the aging fruit out of the fruit bowl, I’ve moved on to tidying up the magazines when I hear the door open.

I glance back quickly to see two teenage boys walking in and figure these are Mary’s sons. “Hi guys, have a seat, and I’ll be right with you.”

They grunt and sit while scrolling through their phones.

I pop into the office and tell Linda, “Hey, my first clients are here.”

She glances up with a furrowed brow. Linda hates the paperwork aspect of the job. “Are you convinced to buy in yet? You’re younger; you could do the paperwork, your mind being spry and all.”

Laughing at her grumpy attitude, I shake my head. “Like you’d give up that kind of control.”

Her demeanour becomes intense, and she says, “I’m serious, Darling. I can’t run this place forever, and I’d rather you have it than some chain salon.” My jaw drops. I always thought she was teasing. “Think about it. Half our clients come here because of you.”

“I will.” Stunned, I walk back out front, wondering if I could even afford it.

“Hey, guys, sorry about that. Come on back, and we’ll get started.” I don’t know if they recognize me, so I don’t mention anything. “So, which of you is Tyler?”

The taller one, with blond, slightly curly hair, raises his hand. “Me.” He pockets his phone and sits in the chair that I indicate. “I just want a trim, and I need some new styling gel. The stuff I have lasts an hour at most, then my curls look more like I stuck my finger in a toaster.”

Evan snorts from the chair next to Tyler.

“Dad wants to know what kind of drink you’d like from Timmie’s?” Evan’s question is directed at me.

“Oh, no, nothing for me. I still have my latte. Thank you.”

I start cutting Tyler’s hair while asking him how he styles it so I can suggest the products he would like. As I clean him up, ensuring everything is even, I hear the door again, expecting it to be Cassie, but rather, it’s a tall drink of a man most women would like to climb like a tree.

“Be with you in a minute,” I call out.

His masculine chuckle makes my body shiver in ways it shouldn’t. Biting the inside of my cheek so I don’t whimper or give away my attraction, I refocus on Tyler.

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