Christmas with the Single Dad, page 1
Christmas with the Single Dad
The Single Dads of Seattle
Book 5, wide
Whitley Cox
Copyright © 2019 by Whitley Cox
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-989081-24-2
Cover Design: EmCat Designs
Editing: SkyDiary Productions
For Johanna and Alicia.
Whether it be constant messaging all day
long, wine and nachos at the pub,
or playdates with our kids, I know
that you will ALWAYS be there for me.
You are my people, my girls, my bitches
and I love you.
**Also, Jo, your birthday is December 25th, so you totally deserve an extra shout-out!
Happy Birthday, you sexy thang!**
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Epilogue
20. BOOK 6 SNEAK PEEK
Chapter 1
“Can I touch your bicep?”
Careful to hide his eye roll, and instead plaster on a big fake grin, Zak Eastwood pulled his earbud out of one ear and sat up on the workout bench, coming face to face with a camel toe in hot pink spandex exercise pants. Slowly, he let his eyes climb the petite frame. Past the bare midriff with the spray tan, past the fake boobs stuffed into a tight white sports bra. Past the makeup (who the fuck worked out while wearing makeup?) to finally see long fake lashes batting at him shamelessly.
“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” played on the speakers overhead, competing with the rap in his one remaining earbud.
The woman in front of him took a half step forward, forcing the camel toe even closer to his head. He kept his eyes on her face. He just had to.
“I’ve just never seen such big muscles,” she purred, tossing her shoulders back so her big fake tits pushed out toward him. “I see you here a lot. It shows.”
He nodded. “Yeah, spend a fair bit of time here.”
Because I own the place.
She thrust her hand forward, revealing pointy, sparkly gold fake nails with little green and red gems glued to them. “I’m Shadley.”
He shook her hand. “Zak. Nice to meet you.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I know who you are. Everybody knows who you are.”
He cocked a single eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“So can I touch it?”
“Touch what?” He was quickly losing patience with this woman. He knew what she wanted—that was being screamed from the tallest mountain—he just wasn’t interested.
“Your arm.” She lifted her shoulder.
The rap music in his one earbud switched to something heinously filthy. “Sure, have at ’er.”
He had to keep the customers happy. Keep the members coming back for more. Even if that meant he pimped himself out a bit and let the gym bunnies hop around him constantly, wiggling their little cottontails. Not that he ever did what bunnies do best with them though. No freaking way.
She bounced on her toes, then stepped forward, reaching out timidly as if his arms had teeth and would suddenly lunge out and bite her.
Her hands were cold. Like fucking freezing. A chill ran through him, and his nipples tightened beneath his black tank top.
“Wow.” She squeezed. “These are amazing. And your tattoos are so beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
She wrapped her hand around and beneath his arm, gripping his tricep. “I don’t live too far from here. Just a couple of blocks. Was going to head home, have a bubble bath and some wine …”
His mouth flattened into a thin line as he fought the urge to smirk. “Sounds like a great way to relax.”
“I have a Jacuzzi tub, too. It’s so big for little ol’ me.”
“You should get a Great Dane. They’re huge.”
He snorted in his head. He was fucking hilarious.
Her brows pinched, then relaxed, and she smiled a bleached-tooth smile. “I was thinking something a little less hairy and a little more muscly and inked up might be better company. What do you think?”
Commotion at the front desk drew his eyes away from the bunny in front of him. A regular patron whose name he couldn’t remember—but really should—was just coming in and shaking off a ton of snow from her coat and stomping her boots.
The bunny cleared her throat. “What do you think? Feel like coming over for a bath and wine? I can massage out the aches from your workout.”
He pinned his gaze back on the woman in front of him, careful not to let his distaste for her come out on his face or in his tone. “Thanks so much for the offer, but I need to get home. I have my kids tonight.” No, he didn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. Finding out he had two kids usually scared the majority of the bunnies away.
She released his arm and stepped back a couple of steps. “Oh, you have kids.”
Ah, there it was.
That’s right, little bunny, hop away now that you know I come with baggage.
He wiped his brow with his towel. “Two, a girl and a boy. Eight and ten.”
Her smile was forced, almost grim. “How sweet.”
Not into single dads there, little bunny?
She blinked her thick lashes, revealing what he knew to be the smoky eye effect with her shadow. Seemed a bit over the top for the gym but whatever.
His ex had been big into the smoky eye. Once she’d figured out how to do it, that is. For the first bit, Loni would come out of the bathroom looking like she’d just been punched in both eyes. Zak would laugh. Loni would pout and then head back in and try again. Eventually, she figured it out. Though he always preferred her—preferred most women with subtle eye makeup rather than dramatic.
He didn’t begrudge a woman who wore makeup, got her nails done, took care of herself. Not in the least. He liked when a woman knew how to put herself together and dress up but also wasn’t afraid to go out in public looking like a hot mess because she’d just killed it at the gym.
Life was all about balance.
Fake nails were fine as long as when the weeds needed to be pulled, she didn’t mind getting a bit of dirt on her hands.
Or didn’t mind breaking a nail as she raked them down his back when he was showing her how he liked to get his cardio workout.
He just wanted a woman who didn’t prioritize that shit over the stuff in life that really mattered—like health and family. Besides, there wasn’t anything hotter than seeing a ring of bright red lipstick around the base of his cock after a really good BJ.
However, he could tell in the mere two minutes she’d been standing there that Shadley or whatever the hell her name was, had probably never pulled a weed in her life, and definitely wouldn’t be caught dead out in public looking like a hot mess.
She tilted her head in the direction of the women’s changing room. “Oh, I think I hear my phone.”
Fsst. Yeah, okay then.
You sure it wasn’t the K-word that scared you off?
Kids! Nearly as terrifying as the word prenup.
And he would never ever get married again without one that was ironclad.
Shadley cleared her throat, then cupped her hand to her ear. “Yes, yes, that is definitely my phone. I left it in my locker. I better go check to make sure it isn’t work calling me. I run a nail salon.” She backed up a few more steps. “Nice to meet you.”
He put his earbud back in and reclined down to the bench again. “Yeah, you too.”
She was gone in a flash, leaving Zak chuckling to himself as he picked up the dumbbells again and resumed his pec fly reps.
Yeah, he could get any piece of tail he wanted. But he didn’t want any. Not right now. Not for a long time. Loni had burned him bad. And she continued to make his life hell with the way she used their children as pawns in her manipulation and games.
She was a liar too.
Always with a new scheme up her sleeves. Always with a new ploy.
Her boyfriend was a liar too.
Zak fucking hated liars.
If he ever found a good woman again, he’d state right off the bat that if she lied to him, they’d be done.
No second chances, no do-overs.
Liars were the scum of the earth, and no way in hell would he have them in his or his kids’ lives ever again.
Aurora Stratford nearly face-planted into the garland- and holly-adorned front desk as she shook her coat and stomped her boots. The temperature in her cheeks was that of a volcano, but her heart was on the verge of shattering.
Why?
Because he was talking to Shadley.
He. Zak.
He was talking to Shadley Taylor, the most beautiful woman at the gym.
Her squats were unbelievable, her makeup flawless. Like crazy flawless. Did she even break a sweat when she worked out at all? Did she even work out? Or did she simply come to the gym to be seen and cruise the weight section for fresh meat to sink her sharp fake claws into?
Over the past few months, Shadley had been talking with her girlfriends in the changing room—whenever Aurora happened to be in there at the same time as them—about trying to hook up with Zak. Looked like she was finally making her move.
Aurora tried not to let it distract her, but her eyes were glued to the two gorgeous people over in the weight room chatting.
And then Shadley touched his bicep, and Aurora nearly passed out.
Why did she torture herself?
Because he’s gorgeous, and loving him from afar is better than never seeing him at all.
True.
Staring at him a few times a week was her guilty pleasure. Her dose of happiness at the end of the day, in a world filled with loss and stress and loneliness.
Once she swiped her key card, she took her snowy self to the women’s changing room and got dressed for a workout.
It was exactly what she needed after a long day in the bullpen at her law firm. After a white-knuckle drive across town to the gym.
Why was it across town?
Because Aurora was attracted to Zak, and she let her heart run roughshod over her practicality.
Because Aurora was a thin-dime recent law graduate, first-year associate who exploited the free two-week trial membership at nearly every gym in Seattle, rather than pay a fee, because her ass was broke. Until she stumbled into Club Z, that is.
At a twenty-five-minute drive from her home and a twenty-minute drive from work, she knew it was stupid. There were over a dozen other fitness facilities and rec centers closer—and cheaper—to either work or home. But none of them had Zak.
The moment she walked in to claim her free two weeks and saw him doing chin-ups, she signed up for a lifetime membership. A LIFETIME MEMBERSHIP.
She was still paying it off.
But he was worth it.
The man was magnificent.
Stunning.
A tattooed god with a beautiful shock of dark red hair, rippling muscles, sparkling blue eyes and a smile that would make an entire nunnery fall to their knees and chant a thousand Hail Marys.
And he had absolutely no clue who she was.
The clock on the wall said it was eight o’clock. She’d been pulling twelve- and fourteen-hour days all week. Today was the first day she left the office before 10 p.m.
She climbed onto the elliptical machine once she’d filled up her water bottle at the fountain and grabbed a complimentary club towel.
She just needed to zone out and do cardio for an hour or so. Normally, she’d do thirty minutes of cardio and then weights, but she was just too damn tired for weights tonight. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open.
But she needed to keep her eyes open. She had the perfect view of her fantasy paramour. The perfect view of his ass, that is. He was doing squats in front of the mirror now, and the way his hamstrings and calves bunched and flexed with each dip made her whole mouth go dry—because another part of her body was incredibly wet.
Aurora caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She wasn’t ugly. She knew that. But she wasn’t what you called a show-stopper either.
She was checked out and flirted with, asked out by associates at work, had drinks sent over while out for dinner with friends. She was attractive. But she wasn’t Shadley Taylor. She wasn’t in Zak’s league.
Never would be.
So she resigned herself to loving him from afar.
Fantasizing about him as she sweat her ass off and watched his ass tighten with each pop up from a squat.
She knew every tattoo on his arm.
Didn’t know what they meant or the significance of them, but she knew them.
Knew the flowers on his right arm and the way they twisted down from his shoulder around and under his tricep to end just above his wrist. A peppering of scripted words she had never been close enough to read filled out the rest of that arm, along with Roman Numerals in big, dark block letters. He had two different sets of very realistic flowers on either shoulder—she knew they probably held significance—and more than once she caught herself tearing up as she stared at them.
It was harder to see what was on his left arm, but even from far away she could tell the work was beautiful. More writing, crashing waves, a lighthouse, a fish, footprints. It was all in there. It was all stunning.
“You almost done?”
She blinked the sweat from her eyes, grabbed her towel and wiped her face.
“You’ve been on here for like an hour.” A muffled voice interrupted the music blasting through her earbuds. It was Shadley, and she was giving Aurora a very odd look. “These machines are for everyone, you know.”
Aurora nodded. Her eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall, where sure enough, it was almost nine o’clock. “Yeah, sorry. Lost track of time. Been a long day.”
Shadley smiled tightly, though the corners of her eyes didn’t move. Was that Botox or just a fake smile? “Don’t forget to wipe down your machine when you get off, please. I don’t want to touch your sweat.”
Don’t forget to wipe down your machine …
Aurora wanted to wipe down Shadley’s fucking face. With her fist.
She slowed down, hopped off the elliptical and went over to the paper towel and spray bottle station so she could disinfect the machine for Shadley.
Why did the woman need that elliptical? There were like eight others.
Why did Shadley pick Aurora to kick off the machine? Yes, they were all occupied, but why didn’t she go and flaunt her camel toe at one of the beefcakes down the row and ask them to give her a turn? Was it because she saw Aurora as an easy mark? A wounded gazelle on the Serengeti, the easiest person to bully off the machine, take down with her talons. Kill swiftly with one slice to the jugular with her bedazzled index finger.
With the pace of a snail in the snow, Aurora made her way back to the elliptical machine and wiped it down.
Shadley stood there, tapping her foot, her eyes focused on the row of televisions at the front of the gym above the mirrors. A few TVs had various news stations on: one, a Christmas comedy sketch special; another, sports; and the last had a cooking show where the Santa-hat-clad host was teaching some football player how to make something that Aurora could have sworn looked like lard pie but was more likely something festive and fattening like a French-Canadian Tourtière. It was Christmas, after all.
Shadley let out a huff and ran her manicured hand over her bottle-blonde hair, smoothing it back into its long, straight ponytail.
Aurora took her sweet time cleaning the machine, rolling her eyes and making a face of disgust when the woman’s hot pink camel toe came into view as she bent over to wipe a few drops of sweat from the footholds.
“Can you speed up?” Shadley asked.
Aurora smiled sweetly. “I could, but I’m not going to. There are eight other machines, and yet you chose this one. There is no sign-up board, so technically, if I wanted to stay on this machine all day, I could. You don’t own this machine. You don’t own this gym. You pay your dues just like I do.”
Shadley’s face burned a bright pink beneath her bronzer, and her dark brown eyes turned fierce. “I could go and complain at the front desk.”
Aurora tilted her head. “Okay.” Then she hopped back up on to the same elliptical, turned it on again and resumed her workout.
Shadley let out an irritated growl. “You’re a bitch.”
Aurora shrugged, turned the music up on her phone and pointed to her earbuds. “What? I can’t hear you.”
She had to hide her smile for fear the woman in front of her might turn rabid and tear out her carotid artery with her Christmas-painted talons.
Aurora fought and argued all day long. Dealt with people slamming doors in her face and yelling at her on the phone more than she cared to count. Usually, by the end of the day, she had no more fight left in her, so she just rolled over and gave in, whether it be a person at the gym like Shadley or someone butting in line at the grocery store. She wasn’t going to pick that hill to die on. She had bigger battles to fight, bigger fish to fry.
But not tonight. Something about the way Shadley was looking at her, speaking to her made Aurora see red. She wasn’t the weakling of the pack. She wasn’t a wounded gazelle on the savannah, the first to be picked off when the hyenas came scrounging. She would be one of the first to get away, one of the fastest in the herd.
