Page 68 of Broken Boss Daddy

I would be the one making them laugh. I’d be the one holding their hands as we crossed the street, or pushing Jess’s buttons just the tiniest bit to get a reaction out of her. Her reactions were always the cutest thing, sometimes thehottestthing.

Basically,I should be there with them.

A sudden realization dawned upon me, and it was like I saw clearly for the first time in a long while—as long as I had Jess and Abby in my life, I was complete.

I didn’t need some fancy residency in a huge city where I was just a part of the crowd. Come to think of it, I really thought I’d be happy to never work again as long as it meant I stood right next to those two beautiful girls for the rest of my life.

They were my life.

As if the universe was aligning everything up with my miraculous realization, Jess and Abby left the park hand in hand. I longfully watched them as they continued down the street, my eyes being drawn to the very building I had originally come here to see.

There was something ironic about the fact that I hadn’t noticed it until that very moment.

A strange pull came to me upon seeing it, something so uniquely strong that it nearly took my breath away. I had to rub the pain in my chest in hopes of some relief. Who knew I would have such a reaction to a small piece of my childhood?

Though, it didn’t come as much of a surprise considering that place was where I truly felt like myself for the first time.

I spotted the girls walking toward it and put it up to some sort of coincidence that they were on that exact street. Figuring they must be heading further down the street or turning into another one, I braced myself to climb out of my car when I was frozen to the spot.

Because they weren’t heading anywhere, except to my grandparents’ house.

My jaw practically hit the floor when Jess and Abby walked through the yard of the house next to the one I spent a summer in, and disappeared through the front door. There was no way that could be their home… Could it?

I remembered back to the time Jess told me she was staying with her parents in her childhood home. If that was the house, then that meant she had been right next to me the entire time I was there.

Wait a minute…All those times where it felt like I had known Jess before I actually did came back to me.

I slumped back into my car, the door half open, when I suddenly realized where all the sense of familiarity with her came from. And I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it until that very moment.

I was gobsmacked, and a fool for being so blind to the thing, theperson, that changed my life over multiple occasions.

Chapter 29: Jessica

Ihad just closed the door when no more than five minutes later, someone was knocking at it.

Slipping out of my shoes, I padded across the entryway in my socks. I peeked into the living room and found Abby sitting on my father’s lap, the two snuggling as the delicious smell of dinner wafted through the house.

My heart melted at the sight, distracting me enough so that when I opened the door, I squeaked at the sudden presence standing just behind it.

“Jeez,” I wheezed out, covering my heart with my hands as it spiked in beats.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Grant’s voice caused my body to seize up slightly.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “No. It wasn’t you.”

Grant nodded, and then neither of us said anything further. We stood on opposite sides of the doorway, trying not to look at each other but failing as we kept catching each other’s eyes.

Abby squealed from the other room, and Grant perked up at the sound of it. He looked over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the little girl that made up our entire world. But Abby stayed with my father, none-the-wiser to who stood before me.

If she had known Grant was here, she’d be running out and tackling him to the ground in a hug.

Closing the door behind me, I stepped onto the porch and tried not to think about Grant cringing at my actions. He was more than welcome to see Abby, but not when my parents were home. My dad had made more than a comment or two about what he would like to do if he ever got his hands on Grant.

Although I’d told him countless times that Grant didn’t really do anything wrong, my father was still protective over his girls.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, suddenly realizing that he was at our home. He shouldn’t know where we live.

“I, uh,” he looked back at the closed door, “want to talk.”

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