Page 26 of Enemy Daddy Next Door

I laugh and grab a wetted paper towel to wipe the stickiness off her mouth. “Explorers don’t explore with syrup on their face.”

“You’re right. A wild animal could sniff me out from a hundred miles away,” she replies with a serious expression. Then, she pulls her tiny neon green binoculars to her eyes and stares up at me. “Whoa, you look weird through these.”

I pick her up off the ground and throw her over my shoulder. I know sending her up to brush her teeth will be a fruitless task. She’ll get distracted looking at everything in the house through those tiny binoculars. Jessica laughs and hammers her fists on my back. It’s more like a wimpy massage than a fight. “Put me down, scallywag!”

I chuckle to myself. The camp I have her enrolled in was at the recommendation of Gillian Solace. In fact, many things are at the recommendation of Gillian. I have a parent crush on her, which means I just admire everything she’s been able to do with Stella as a single mom. I’ve gone to her many times with questions, concerns, looking for recommendations.

The “Wild Explorers” camp has definitely been one of the best so far. Jessica comes home every day with wild stories of nature hikes and animal spottings. Best of all, she’s zonked by eight most of the time.

I drop Jessica in front of the mirror. She steps onto her little stool to see herself in the mirror, grabs the child-sized toothbrush, and holds it out in front of me. Fulfilling my part of the routine, I grab the bubblegum-flavored toothpaste and drop a splotch of it onto her brush.

With the toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, she points out the door. “Get the Jeep ready!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply and head back downstairs.

I don’t drive a Jeep; I drive a Hummer. But she’s really into all this explorer stuff. Maybe I should look at making a switch…

I head outside toward the car, which is bulbously parked in the front driveway. But I slow down as soon as I hear a familiar voice.

“…I’ll be fine, Dad.”

Amy’s voice. Sweet and bubbly as ever. Not the way it was the last time I saw her.

I duck out of sight behind the car.

“It’s a long drive. Just call me when you get there,” I hear Kent reply.

I peek out from around the car and watch as Amy springs toward Kent’s Jag. She usually bikes around the neighborhood or has people drive her. I didn’t even know she had her license.

She’s wearing a pretty purple dress with a flared skirt and has a bit of a bustier at the front. It’s both adorable and devastatingly sexy. Fits right within her brand. Her brown tresses tumble over her shoulders and there is a bow fixed at the back of her head. “It’s just Anaheim, Daddy.”

Kent lingers on the front porch. “And it’s just my car…” he says with a sigh.

“I can take the beamer –”

Kent grins. “I’m just kidding. You’re the precious cargo. I don’t give a damn about the car.”

I smile to myself. I know that feeling. All the stupid things I used to care about, the status symbols like clothes and cars and property, didn’t matter anymore once Jessica was born. The second she had a blowout right on a Balmain T-shirt, all of that went right out the window.

Amy bounds back up to her father and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Dad.”

I swoon. She’s such a sweetheart. I can’t help but wish she was rushing to give me a kiss goodbye too. Just a tiny one on the cheek would be enough to make my heart sing for her.

I watch as they say their goodbyes and Kent retreats into the house.

Amy, alone, goes to the Jaguar.

This is the first time I’ve seen her in the flesh since we kissed. Am I really going to waste the opportunity and let her get away?

I don’t have much time to weigh the pros and the cons. Just have to act. “Morning, Amy!” I call out, rounding the Hummer.

Amy freezes beside the car and looks over at me. Her previously jolly expression falls.

Shit.

“Good morning, Hunter,” she replies very formally in an attempt to put me at a distance, but dammit, everything she does is adorable.

Amy reaches for the doorhandle and I panic. I’m not ready to let her go that easily. “Anaheim, huh?”

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