Savage Daddy, page 3
“What? You always say we shouldn’t lie.”
“Yes, Livvy,” Sav agreed. “You shouldn’t lie.”
“I’ll be fine. Now, we need to go before it gets fully dark.” She looked around worriedly.
Fuck.
He glanced at his bike, it wasn’t like he could take them all home. Even if that had been what he was considering. But he wasn’t letting them walk home alone in this neighborhood. And despite what she claimed, he could see her shivering from here.
“I’m calling you a taxi,” he stated.
“No, that’s crazy,” she said. “It’s a ten-minute walk at most. We’ll be fine.”
Ten minutes? More like double that. And carrying all that stuff? Yeah, not happening.
“By the time we wait for a taxi, we could be home.”
She wasn’t lying. It was peak hour and it would take a while for a taxi to get out here. With a sigh, he moved toward her. “Give me the bag and seat.”
“What?” She gave him a shocked look.
“Give me the stuff. You’re not carrying it all plus the baby.”
Fuck.
All of them stared up at him. He swore that even the baby looked suspicious of his motives.
“I’m going to walk with you,” he grumbled.
“You don’t have to do that.”
He just stared down at her.
Ethan tugged at her arm and she glanced down at him. “What if he’s trying to steal our stuff?”
“Have to be desperate to steal your stuff, kid.”
She flinched. Fuck. He didn’t mean it to come out that way.
“Look, I didn’t mean—”
“Of course, he’s not going to steal our stuff, Ethan. We should be grateful for him stopping to help. All right?”
He was starting to hate those smiles. Hated that she felt the need to fake being happy. He got that she was trying to reassure the kids. To stay calm.
But who did that for her?
Who took away her worries the way she did for her nephews?
None of your business.
Irritated by his thoughts, Sav practically snatched the stuff out of her arms. He attached the bag to the back of his bike, then placed the baby seat over his motorbike. It was going to make it awkward to push his bike, but it was better than letting her carrying it all.
“Let’s go,” he grumbled.
* * *
What was happening?
Livvy stole another glimpse at her neighbor as he pushed his bike along the road, silently matching his strides to their much shorter ones.
Ethan kept staring at him as well, but his stares were more suspicious. As though he expected him to take off with their stuff at any moment.
Which was laughable, really. There was nothing in the bag other than some diapers, a bottle, and a change of clothes. And none of it was worth anything.
No, he wasn’t here because of their stuff. And he could have easily just driven by. Or left them to walk home by themselves.
Instead, here he was, awkwardly pushing his bike along the road with a baby’s car seat perched on top of it as he matched their slow pace.
She just couldn’t work him out.
He seemed so grouchy most of the time. As though everything they did was to annoy him or put him out. And he could definitely be blunt. The way he’d stated that their stuff wasn’t worth stealing shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. She knew pretty much everything they owned was well worn and not worth anything.
Including her car.
But that car was her freedom. It was her way to work, to get the kids to school and childcare.
She didn’t know how she was going to deal without it.
She’d have to work out a bus route once they got home. The wind picked up and she shivered, drawing Wyatt closer to her. Buster was lagging and she reached out for his booster seat, carrying it for him.
He gave her a tired smile.
Lord, these kids. They deserved better than this. Better than the life she could give them. But what more could she do?
What she needed was a job that paid more. She loved working at the library at Montana State, but maybe it was time to see what else was out there.
She sighed.
“You all right, Livvy?” Ethan asked.
“Of course,” she replied with forced cheer. “What are we going to have for dinner when we get home?”
“Not cow.” Buster glared over at the man pushing his bike. She still didn’t know his name. That was weird, right?
Definitely weird.
“You don’t say cow once they’ve been killed and cut up for food, Buster,” Ethan lectured.
She groaned. This wasn’t going to go well.
“What do you know, Ethan!” Buster argued. “You’d probably like to eat the poor deafened cow.”
Deafened cow?
“What does that mean? Cows aren’t deaf. I don’t think they are. Are cows deaf, Livvy?”
Both boys looked up at her. Well, at least this question had killed the budding argument between them. Even if things had taken an odd twist.
Wyatt whined. Probably hungry, poor guy.
She heaved him up in her arms.
“Cows aren’t deaf,” Sav said. “Most of them anyhow. There might be some that are. And when we get home, I’m having a steak. Which comes from a cow. Can you keep carrying that kid?”
What?
It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her.
“Yes, of course.”
He wasn’t going to offer to carry Wyatt, was he? She didn’t want to hurt his feelings by rejecting the offer. It was kind, but Wyatt took a while to warm up to people. Plus, he couldn’t hold Wyatt and push his bike, which would leave her doing it.
And she’d probably drop it. Right on her toe. Or she’d scratch the darn thing and end up paying for its repairs, on top of the repairs to her own car.
A head gasket sounded like it cost a lot of money. But what did she know? It could be cheap.
Yeah, you don’t have that sort of luck.
“Good,” he grunted out.
Good? What did that mean? She stared at him, puzzled. Then realized she was staring and averted her gaze. She didn’t want him to think she was being rude. Not when he was being kind enough to escort them home.
She hadn’t been looking forward to the trek home on their own. She felt far safer with him accompanying them. Although, for all she knew, he would take off at the first sign of danger.
But somehow, she doubted it.
There was something powerful about him that told her he knew how to take care of himself.
And anyone he considered his.
Don’t be silly, Livvy. Don’t put some romantic spin on him. Just because he’s doing the decent thing doesn’t make him a hero in disguise.
She shifted Wyatt again and her neighbor shot her a look, as though he didn’t trust that she could carry the baby without dropping him.
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble. Complaining that she hadn’t eaten all day. She glanced over at their neighbor, but he seemed too far away to hear.
“You want my crackers, Livvy?” Buster asked, staring up at her in concern. “I kept them from lunch to eat later, but you can have them.”
“Aww, thanks, honey, but I’m fine. It’s just been a long time since lunch.”
She knew she shouldn’t lie. But she also didn’t want to burden the boys with her worries. Would her emergency fund cover a head gasket?
When they finally got home, she could barely manage to put one foot in front of the other. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday and she didn’t have to go anywhere.
“Thanks so much,” she said to him as he set the diaper bag and car seat on the rickety old porch.
He simply grunted.
“Will your friend tow my car on a Saturday?”
“Yeah. I’ll call him now. You good?”
She stared at him in surprise. “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” He turned and walked away.
“Well, thanks again, um, Mr . . .” He’d walked inside and shut his door by the time she got the courage up to ask him his name.
Right.
3
Livvy resisted the urge to pace back and forth along the footpath as she waited for the tow truck driver. Her neighbor’s mechanic friend had called last night to arrange a pick-up time.
Only he was twenty minutes late. Not that it mattered. What did she have to do with her day? Just a pile of housework and grocery shopping.
Please don’t let this be an expensive fix.
She’d checked her emergency fund. She had nearly five hundred dollars in her account and a bit more hidden in the house. If the head gasket cost too much more, she was screwed. Not to mention the car probably wasn’t worth that.
“Here he comes, Livvy,” Ethan said. “Are you sure we can trust him with the car?”
The tow truck that pulled up seemed to be in good condition. A bit dirty, but who was she to judge? Her car wasn’t exactly clean either.
The same couldn’t be said for the guy who jumped out of it. He had on dirty overalls, his long greasy hair hung down past his shoulders, and his beard looked dirty.
Was this her neighbor’s friend?
Don’t be judgmental, Livvy.
“Hey, you Livvy?” the guy glanced over her car then the kids. Ethan and Buster were sitting on the side of the road while Wyatt had his hand wrapped around the top of her dress, tugging it down.
He ran his gaze over her slowly, it felt slimy, ick. And she had to fight a shudder.
“Yes, I am. You’re Atlas?”
He just grunted.
“Thank you for coming out on a Saturday.”
“Definitely worth it,” he told her with a wink.
Ew, did he think that was attractive or something?
“So, this is the car. My, uh, neighbor thought that the head gasket was blown.”
“We’ll see.” Turning, he ran his gaze over her car and she took in a deeper breath. Why did she feel the urge to have a shower? “Piece of junk, isn’t it?”
She straightened her back. “It gets us where we need to go.”
He snorted. “Not anymore. You sure you want to fix it? Might be simpler to get a new car.”
“Well, could you let me know how much it would be to repair and I’ll make the decision then?”
He grunted. Unlike her neighbor’s grunts, these weren’t at all attractive.
Sheesh, when did she start thinking of grunts as attractive?
Weirdo.
“Guess so.” He glanced over at her, licking his lower lip. “Sure we can work out a payment plan.”
She shifted Wyatt around, wishing that she’d just arranged her own tow truck. Maybe she was reading too much into what he was saying.
“A payment plan could work.”
“Good.” His gaze turned even more heated.
Gross. Gross. Gross.
“I’ll tow it back to the garage and let you know.”
“Do you have some forms for me to fill in?”
“Yeah.” He handed her over a form and she hastily filled it out as he got the car attached to the tow truck.
When she handed the form back, he took hold of her hand. His hand was damp with sweat and she had to hold her breath at the stench coming from him as he moved closer.
“You’ll be hearing from me soon.”
She nodded, unable to say anything.
Turning away, he whistled as he got to work.
“That guy’s a creep,” Buster stated.
“That’s not very nice, Buster,” she lightly scolded.
Although, quite frankly, she couldn’t agree more.
* * *
Livvy rearranged the cookies on the plate for the ninth time.
“Are you sure you’ve got to give him that many?” Buster asked, eyeing up the cookies.
She’d gotten some cookies for the boys as a treat. It had been a long day and all she wanted was to sit down with her feet up.
But manners dictated that she thank her cranky neighbor for his help with her car. Although she still wasn’t certain that his help was a good thing.
Shaking that thought off, she picked up the plate. “You already had two, Buster. That’s enough.”
“He doesn’t look like he likes cookies. He looks like he eats poor defenseless animals.”
“Have you fed Cinnabun, yet?” she asked to divert his attention.
“No! Gotta go! Bye!”
She sighed, shaking her head. She’d finally gotten Wyatt down to sleep and Ethan was reading in his room.
“You’re really taking cookies over to Mr. Sexy and Mysterious?” Ricky asked as he walked into the kitchen. He had a glass of wine in his hand. She reached over for the glass he’d poured her, taking a sip for courage.
“Don’t call him that,” she said.
“What? You’d rather I call him the Pussy Pounder?”
“Ricky! No! That’s terrible. And the kids might hear you.”
“What about Spicy Meatball? Do you think his balls—”
She slammed her hand over his mouth, giving him a scolding look. Which she ruined by giggling. “That’s terrible.”
He gently removed her hand. “That’s some of my best work.”
“You think I should take him something else?” Trouble was, she didn’t have anything else.
“It’s very girl-next-door,” he told her.
“I am the girl next door,” she replied dryly. But she got what he was saying. “Maybe I should have given him the wine.”
“He doesn’t look like a wine drinker. Besides, I need it more. You should have seen the heinous bleach job Rachel did today that I had to stay late to fix.”
“I bet the client looks a thousand times better now, though,” she soothed.
“Damn straight, she does.”
“You should open your own salon,” she told him, not for the first time.
He frowned, then gave her a sly look. “I’m not any good at all that business stuff. You, on the other hand . . .”
“I have a job.”
“But think how fun it would be to work with me! And once the salon is up and running, you’ll make more money.”
That was tempting. But she liked her job. Well, most days.
“I don’t think I can quit my current job. But you know I’ll help you however you need. Maybe I can do both.”
“Honey, you help everyone. That’s why you look like death warmed over.”
“Thanks. Now you tell me I’m a mess! Right as I’m about to take these over to Mr. Sexy and Mysterious.”
“If he can’t see past your sallow skin, dark bags under your eyes, and awful clothes, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Ricky!” She glared at him.
“What?” he asked innocently.
Innocent, her ass.
“That doesn’t make me feel better. Are you okay watching the boys while I pop over? Wyatt’s asleep already.”
“Course I am. I’m going to set up so we can cut your hair when you get back. Think Mr. Sexy and Mysterious would let me do his hair? Those luscious locks are just waiting for Ricky’s special touch.” He cackled.
“That’s creepy,” she told him, fighting a grin.
Walking out the door, she walked over to his half of the duplex. She was determined to find out his name today. She couldn’t keep calling him Mr. Sexy and Mysterious. That would be embarrassing if it just popped out of her mouth.
Crumbs.
Don’t think about that. Don’t think about how hot he is. Or how amazing your orgasms have been every night while thinking about him. Nope, stop.
Taking a deep breath, she shored up her courage and knocked. Everything would be fine. She’d give him the cookies, thank him, and walk away.
Nothing embarrassing was going to happen to her today.
* * *
Sav sighed at the knock on his door.
This is why he didn’t interact with anyone outside the club or garage. Because nothing good could come from it. If you acted friendly, then people thought they could constantly bother you.
Fixing a scowl on his face, he opened the front door. “What?”
He watched as the small woman jumped into the air. The plate in her hand went flying, then smashed on the ground.
Fuck.
“Oh no! I’m such a klutz. Shit. I’ll just . . . I’ll just . . .”
She got down onto her knees and attempted to pick up bits of cookie and crockery.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
Okay, he didn’t mean to snap like that. And he felt like a douche as she flinched.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus on gentling his approach.
“I’m picking up the mess. I’m so sorry. You startled me, I’m not usually so jumpy.”
Great. Now he felt even worse.
“Ouch.” She hissed.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just . . . do you have a dustpan and broom? I’ll clean this up really quick.” She glanced around as though the pan and broom might appear out of thin air. She’d curled her right hand into a fist.
“Leave the damn mess and show me your hand.”
She put her hand behind her back. “Nuh-uh.”
“Excuse me?” he said in a low voice.
“Uh, I said, nuh-uh. It means no.”
“I know what it means. I don’t like being told no.”
She gaped up at him but didn’t move.
“Show. Me.”
“My hand is fine.” She gave him a guilty look.
“I’m going to count to three and you’re going to show me your hand.” Fuck. Where had that come from?
“You can’t do that!” she protested.
He gave her a stern look. “One.”
“Damn it, I’m not a child.”
“Two.”
She hastily stood and held out her hand.
He gently grasped hold of her hand, ignoring her small gasp. Her hand was freezing and he frowned. “Why aren’t you wearing gloves?
You’re cold. Where’s your jacket?”
“I was only going to be outside a few minutes.”
