Loved by Him (Wanted Series #6) Read online

  “But you know how much I admire persistence so I’m not really as annoyed as I pretended to be.”

  “You’re a saint.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Just a servant. But someday I’m hoping to get promoted, too.”

  I leaned forward and hugged her. Unlike Mrs. Collins, I didn’t believe in God, but knowing her made it impossible for me to not believe in guardian angels.

  “So,” she said, straightening back up. “Tell me about this someone.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Does that mean you’ve had enough of my sulking about my job?”

  “No,” she said. “But I don’t think any more good can come of it.” She reached down by her ankle and pulled a little grey bunny up from under the couch and put it in her lap. “So you had a setback.” She shrugged and began dragging her fingertips lightly over its back.

  I watched its little nose twitch, taking comfort in how oblivious it was to my hysterics.

  “If there’s anyone I know that can bounce back better than ever, it’s you.”

  The bunny twitched its ears and then laid them down by its sides.

  “Plus,” she said. “The harder you work, the luckier you get.”

  “I mean, that sounds nice, but-”

  “It’s true,” she said. “Have faith.”

  I nodded. Personally, I could’ve argued with faith all day, but that was Mrs. Collins’ way of having the last word.

  “So,” she said, handing me the bunny. “You were saying about this special someone you met.”

  I turned the fur ball around so it was sitting on my knees. It was so soft, and when I put my hands around it, I could feel its little heartbeat.

  “What’s his name?” she asked.

  “Wyatt.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Sexy was the first word that came to mind, but I didn’t really want to go there with Mrs. Collins just then. “He’s kind,” I said. “And funny.”

  She nodded, taking her eyes off me just long enough to reach for her tea.

  “And smart,” I said. “Well, I don’t know how book smart he is, but he’s a natural with people.”

  “Book smarts are overrated,” she said. “At least in my experience.”

  I nodded.

  “But kindness isn’t.”

  “He’s handsome, too,” I said, stroking the top of the bunny’s head as I’d watched her do.

  She nodded once. “Good. No sense in wasting energy on anyone who wouldn’t give Paul Newman a run for his money.”

  I laughed. “I forgot about you and Paul Newman.”

  She smiled. “I love how you said that. As if there were ever a me and Paul Newman.”

  “I’m sure if your paths had crossed, you would’ve-”

  “At least once or twice I like to think,” she said, raising her teacup to hide her smiling lips. “But that’s enough about me and Paul,” she said, giggling again at the idea of it. “Tell me what Wyatt does.”

  “He’s a singer-songwriter.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Oh?”

  “He used to be in a boy band, but now he’s a man so-”

  “Good. A man would do you good.”

  “You think?” I asked. “I kind of always thought a man was the last thing I needed.”

  She shook her head. “No. A boy is the last thing a woman needs, but a man- that’s a different story entirely.”

  I swallowed. I wanted to clarify that I didn’t need anyone, but the circumstances upon which I arrived at her home seemed to contradict my argument.

  “Plus, you were always very practical. And having a man in your life can be very handy indeed.”

  I nodded. “He is very good with his hands.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  My hands froze over the bunny. “I mean in a DIY sense.”

  “Of course,” she said, suppressing a smile.

  “There’s actually only one thing about him that worries me.”

  Her face dropped. “What’s that?”

  The bunny jumped from my lap onto the cushion between us and started sniffing the pillows at the back of the couch.

  “He has a daughter.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? How old is she?”

  “Nine.”

  She nodded.

  “And it’s not that she isn’t sweet. She is, but I don’t know the first thing about children.”

  “So?”

  “So it always feels like we’re having fun until I realize there’s a kid involved, and then I’m afraid to let it get serious- or that it already is serious. I don’t know-”

  “Addison,” she said, dropping her head but keeping her eyes on me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Children aren’t serious.”

  “But-”

  “I know you were a serious child, but that’s only because you didn’t have a choice.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “Children are silly. Children are fun. Children are little bundles of joy and adventure.”

  “I know you feel like that, but-”

  “I feel like that because it’s the truth.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  She shook her head. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Please.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  My lips fell apart.

  “This little girl is not a problem to be solved. She’s just a kid, and I’ve no doubt she’s far more resilient than you’re giving her credit for.”

  Suddenly I remembered how Sophie looked when she was hooked up to all those machines in the hospital.

  “Plus, she’s nine, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Is her mother in the picture?”

  “She died when she was little.”

  Mrs. Collins pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “That’s very sad. So Wyatt’s a single dad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds to me like a match made in heaven.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause neither of them needs you to be her mother.”

  I swallowed.

  “Just be her friend.”

  “I don’t know how-”

  “Yes you do,” she said. “And if you’re ever unsure, let her take the lead. She’ll tell you what she needs from you- if anything.”

  “And what about him?”

  “What about him?”

  “How can I tell if I’m what he needs?”

  She smiled. “You’re not.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry,” she said. “What I mean is, he doesn’t need you. Or at least, it doesn’t sound like he does.”

  “So should I end it?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “Everything’s perfect.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t mean to be dense, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “The healthiest and strongest relationships aren’t the ones where people need each other,” she said. “They’re the ones where people choose each other because they’re free to choose whose company to keep.”

  I pursed my lips. “You think so?”

  She nodded. “I know so.”

  “But what about your kids?” I asked. “What about all these kids that have come through your door over the years-”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “So you do get it.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Do I?

  She nodded. “I never needed a single one of them. I chose to spend time with them because I wanted to get to know them, because I wanted to help. And that’s why I can love each and every one of them so much. Not because I need to, but because I want to.”

  And I wondered if she was right, or more accurately, if her truth could be mine as well.

  And if it could be, did I have what it took to want Wyatt as much as he wanted me?

  And just as importantly, could I choose to want Sophie, too?

  Chapter 5: Wyatt

  I hoped I w
as doing the right thing.

  As far as I knew, there was no handbook for single dads trying to date in the modern world. And without a rule book, how could I know if I was breaking any?

  But it wasn’t like I dragged Sophie out with women all the time. On the contrary, I’d never done it before.

  Not that she seemed fazed. Of course, she never seemed like anything but a zombie when I let her play Candy Crush on my phone.

  I looked out the window and crossed an ankle over my knee. It was roomy enough to do that in Alfred’s escalade.

  Normally, I would drive into town myself, but as I was hoping to have some alone time with Addison after the show, it only made sense to hire Alfred for the night. Plus, Sophie had known him so long he was like an uncle at this point, which meant I didn’t have to worry about her getting to my parent’s place safely after the show.

  I looked out the window at the passing cars on the expressway and then straight between the front seats. The city had just risen up in the view out the windshield, and I always found something comforting in how quiet and static it looked from a distance.

  Though I knew it was only a matter of time before I was death gripping Sophie’s little hand as we moved through the crowded theater.

  I looked at her face beside me. It was full of concentration and took no notice of my watching her.

  I wondered what she thought of me inviting a beautiful woman out with us. Did she even care? I was pretty sure she knew I wasn’t doing it for her.

  I was the one that wanted to spend as much time with Addison as I could. Hopefully that didn’t make me a bad father. Surely I wasn’t the only single dad in the greater metropolitan area that longed for a little bit of adult company.

  Sophie, on the other hand, hadn’t expressed much interest in having other women around, which I found comforting. I used to worry that she’d wake up one morning and cry out for some female energy in the house.

  But years and years went by and she never did, though it pained me that I suspected it was only because she didn’t know what she was missing.

  But I’d done my best. When she got upset I couldn’t braid her hair, I learned. Poor Karen probably still had a headache from that weekend. When she wanted to go see Frozen in the theater for the sixth time, I sucked it up and took her. The seventh time I let her invite a few friends.

  When she started eating solid foods, I panicked and asked my Mom to teach me how to cook a few things so I didn’t raise her on Hot Pockets and beer can chicken, though I was delighted when she finally came around to both of those things.

  And not only did I go to all the parent-teacher conferences, but I never slept with a single one of her teachers, even after her kindergarten teacher made it clear she was up for it.

  But despite having done my best, I still felt a little guilty about tonight.

  I don’t know why. It wasn’t like Addison was a stranger. I guess I just always thought I would wait until Sophie was a teenager before I attempted to date anyone seriously.

  But then I met Addison. And then Sophie went to the hospital, and for the first time ever, I didn’t want to have to choose.

  Naturally, Sophie was my number one priority, but I hadn’t realized what I was missing until I met Addison. She woke something up in me, some masculine, decent part of me that had been lying dormant for too long.

  And I wanted to explore that. And I wanted to explore her, too.

  When my phone started to ring, I was snapped from my thoughts. “Who is it?” I asked, looking down at the phone in Sophie’s hands.

  “It’s Marv,” she said. “Can I hit ignore? I’m just about to line up this row and-”

  I grabbed the phone from her hand. “Hello?”

  She groaned and let her head fall back against her seat.

  I covered the bottom of the phone with my hand and mouthed an apology. “Sorry.”

  “You there, Jonesy?” Marv asked.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Great. Are you sitting down?”

  “I am,” I said, leaning forward and covering my other ear.

  Alfred noticed I was on the phone and rolled up the cracked front windows so I could hear better.

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  My heart sank in my chest. “The bad news,” I said, fearing the worst.

  “The bad news is that you’re going to have to get fitted for a new suit.”

  “What? I don’t understand. What’s the good news?”

  “They picked your song!” he said. “You were right! It was a winner.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “They’re going to use it as the main song for the movie- starting with the previews which will begin airing in six months- and Demi and Miley are already fighting over who’s going to sing the lyrics.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Am I serious?! You know I can’t tell a joke to save my life.”

  “They chose my song?”

  “Not only did they choose your song, but that’s not even the best news of all.”

  I licked the top of my dry mouth. “No?”

  “Guess what they bought it for?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “A hundred thousand dollars.”

  “What?”

  “And that’s before it’s been played a single time.”

  I swallowed.

  “Are you there, Jonesy?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Good thing you have such a good agent then,” he said. “Cause I knew just what to say.”

  “What?”

  “I said that for two hundred thousand, you’d do another song for the film.”

  “You did?”

  “I did, and I’m just about to send you the specs.”

  “Fuck.” And then I remembered where I was and turned towards Sophie who was sitting crossed legged with her eyebrows halfway up her face. “Sorry, honey.”

  “You with Sophie?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’re headed downtown to see The Lion King.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “Ask her how it feels to know she’s never going to have to work a day in her life.”

  “I’m not going to do that,” I said. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

  “And I appreciate your talent.”

  “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Can you just remind me what the good news is again cause I’m worried I might’ve imagined this whole thing.”

  “Sure,” he said, clearing his throat. “You, Wyatt Jones, have just sold the biggest song of the year to the biggest studio of the century, and I will never, ever joke about you singing at a wedding again.”

  I fell back against the seat and sank down in it. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, I’m happy to keep calling you and telling you until you do.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That would be great.”

  “And later in the week, I’ll get in touch with you so you can come in and sign the contracts and everything and-”

  “Quick question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You know how I tweaked the demo?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, the change I made wasn’t entirely mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just a little thing, but there’s another person who should get a writing credit.”

  “I didn’t know you were working with anyone-”

  “Well I was, and I want to make sure the contract is fair.”

  “Whatever you say,” he said. “You’re the boss.”

  I unbuttoned an extra button on my shirt and took a deep breath.

  “I’m glad you’re happy with the deal though.”

  “I’m ecstatic, Marv. Great work.”

  “Same to you, Jonesy. Same to you.”

  I hung up the phone and turned towards Sophie. “I’m sorry ab
out your game, honey, but I-”

  “Did you sell your song?”

  “I did.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “It’s great.”

  She extended her legs out and let them dangle over the front of her seat. “Tonight is already turning out to be a great night, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling. “Really great. And I have a feeling it’s only going to get better.”

  Chapter 6: Addison

  Dressing for Wyatt was one thing. Dressing for Sophie was another.

  I didn’t want to show too much skin or wear anything so tight I looked inappropriate. It’s not that I was worried about being rejected by her, but I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of floozy out to seduce her dad… even if the latter was true.

  In the end, I went with my black and white strapless jumpsuit. I figured it was perfect. There was just a little bit of flesh on my shoulders for Wyatt to sink his eyes into, and if it was cold in the theater, it would be nice to have my legs covered. And just to be on the safe side in case it was really cold, I tossed a folded shawl onto the table next to my clutch.

  Then I went to the bathroom one last time.

  As I smoothed my straightened hair in the mirror and waited for Wyatt’s call, I reminded myself to keep my chin up.

  After all, Mrs. Collins was right. I didn’t need a man, and the man I liked most certainly didn’t need me, which was a relief. Neediness felt unsafe, and I’d always been skeptical of it.

  On the other hand, good company was something to enjoy, not something to be afraid of. And that’s all this was, a night out with some good company.

  Except something was niggling at me.

  And that something was the fact that Wyatt still didn’t know the truth about who I was, which wasn’t fair.

  I couldn’t let his feelings for me develop into something deeper and then pull the rug out from under him by telling him that I lied about being from a big family, that I had no idea where my real parents were, and that, save for one kind woman, I didn’t really have any family to speak of.

  After all, at the end of the day, I was always going to be little orphan Addy on the inside, and no matter how grown up or accomplished I was as an adult, that history would always follow me like a little black cloud or a pebble in my shoe.

  Of course, I dreaded the idea of talking to him about it, and I feared the pity that might flash across his eyes when I told him about my past. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me.