Page 1 of Daddy Issues

CHAPTER1

graham

“For fuck’s sake,man, what are you looking at?”

Despite his words, my eyes don’t leave the photo of the tight, half-naked body of the woman on my phone. She’s wearing a baby blue bra, the lace so thin you can just barely make out the blush pink of the delicate skin hiding behind it.

“She swiped right on you? You sure she didn’t fat finger it, you old fuck?”

“Shut your mouth, I’m not old, and you know it.” Even if my forty-two feels more like mid-fifties some days. This single dad, workaholic thing is aging me faster than I’m ready for.

“Well, you deserve to get your needs met. Lord knows you won’t date. You gonna swipe back?”

My thumb hesitates over her photo. She’s easily the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, and this is only a photo. But her face isn’t in it. The shot is just of a body, nearly naked except for a bra and matching string panties that just barely cover the pussy that’s making me salivate. I want to see the face behind such a sexy body. A body that looks way too young for me.

Is hiding her face in the pose to keep some mystery? To keep her safe? Or am I being catfished? That’d be just my luck. This app shit wasn’t around when I was dating in my twenties, and using one now makes me feel even fuckin’ older. Closing out of the app, I pocket my phone to catch my coworker, Liam, rolling his eyes in disapproval.

“Not everyone falls in love with their best friend and can ride into the sunset together. I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, old man,” the smug little shit says in return.

I grumble and get back to work, focusing on the aroma of the whiskey we’re tasting, closing my eyes and taking a sip, looking for any potential issues at this stage in the distilling process. This current recipe is a single barrel whiskey that’s been aging for the last two years.

I’m one of two master distillers at Aspen Ridge Distillery—the other, the dipshit next to me, Liam, whose family owns the entire company. I’ve been working here since I was a teenager. I started out at the bottom, cleaning the place and doing odd jobs. Eventually, I got a position as a bottling line operator. Then, one day, when I was barely twenty-one, I got a meeting with the owner after finding an error—based on smell alone—in a small batch we were filling. I landed an internship with him, and after twenty-something years, I know this distillery and whiskey better than the back of my hand.

“What are your thoughts?”

“Go with your gut, Liam, you know this as well as I do. It’s in your blood.”

He takes another small sip before speaking. “It’s on track.”

“Agree.”

We finish up with our tasks, my phone a heavy weight in my pocket reminding me of the pretty little thing that wants to meet up with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve hooked up with anyone, and for good reason.

Ten years ago, child protective services called me in the middle of the night, letting me know they were outside my house with a ten-week-old baby girl that I was the proud father of—that I didn’t know existed in the first place. Her mom died in a car accident after leaving a bar wasted—thank fuck Mila wasn’t with her. Instead, she was left with an elderly couple that lived in an apartment next door. I only vaguely remember the weekend we spent together hooking up while I was in town with some friends on a trip. CPS only found me because my daughter’s mom had told people who her father was. Made me out to be some asshole who bailed on his responsibilities, but I had never been contacted. Not a single attempt on her part.

My daughter, Mila, has run my life ever since, and between juggling being a single dad and a master distiller at a large distillery, I haven’t had much time to date.

Liam slaps the back of my shoulder, pulling my attention to him as we step into the Washington spring air.

“Let Mila come hang out with Hannah, Charlie, and I. We’ll do pizza and a sleepover. Go get your needs met. Just let me know when and we’ll make it happen.”

Appreciating his words, I nod my head in agreement and pack up my things to head home for the day, ready to see my daughter. The drive out of the distillery property is a short one, then it’s open back roads until I reach the private entrance to my house. A long dirt road winds around a tight bend before opening up to the property I bought for us five years ago. Up until then, we were apartment living in downtown Aspen Ridge, and while I loved being close to everything, I wanted to raise my daughter in a home that she could always come back to.

Growing up, I had no intention of ever settling down. While all my friends slowly started to pair off with their significant others, I continued to play the field, taking solo road trips whenever I could afford it, hiking around Washington and Oregon nearly every weekend, and hooking up when I felt the mood strike. I enjoyed the bachelor life and lived it up. Never had any intention or desire to change it.

The moment I held Mila in my arms—a tiny, red-faced baby screaming her head off—everything changed. Being a father is the greatest gift ever given to me, and I fuckin’ thrive in it. Thank the beings at play for thrusting fatherhood onto me because I wouldn’t have gone willingly. If I could go back, I would be chasing it. Nothing tops being her dad.

Parking my car next to the silver beater blocking the garage door, I hop out of my SUV, shaking my head at the rust bucket that probably isn’t road-legal anymore. Jogging up the stairs, my heart starts to flutter, ready to get eyes on my little girl, who’s always waiting for me. My sister, Penelope, watched her when she was little, and she would stand by the windows at the front of our place repeating “I waiting” until I finally got home. Some things don’t change, and while I’m under no delusion that they will someday—probably sooner than I’m ready—I’m soaking up each day while I have it.

“Where’s my girl?” I shout as I walk into the house, knowing she and her nanny, Hailey, are probably in the kitchen together. I hired her after she returned to Aspen Ridge from college, knowing full well it’ll only last until school starts in September if she gets the teaching position she wants at the local elementary school.

Hailey’s the daughter of my friend, Jay, and has been a lifesaver since moving in with us. Makes me question how I’ll function if she leaves. As Mila transitions from my little girl into a preteen, it’s becoming more clear that she needs a woman’s touch in her life, or at least someone she can confide in about the things she says are too “cringe” to talk to her dad about.

Mila comes barreling through the house as I’m kicking off my boots.

“Hey, Dad!” she wails as she wraps her arms around my waist. I bend to her, resting my cheek on top of her head. She’s getting so tall.

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