Best Friend’s Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy

  Best Friend’s Daddy

  Once Upon A Daddy

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Madie

  2. Declan

  3. Madie

  4. Declan

  5. Madie

  6. Declan

  7. Madie

  8. Madie

  9. Declan

  10. Madie

  11. Declan

  12. Madie

  13. Declan

  14. Madie

  15. Declan

  16. Madie

  17. Declan

  18. Madie

  Epilogue

  1

  Madie

  “No! Don’t do this to me! Please!” I yelled at my car as I heard something under the hood go clunk—and I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign.

  My car didn’t respond—not that I expected it to. Instead, there was another clunk, followed by the sound of the engine sputtering out. I mentally cursed my luck and tried to crank it back up, but there was no response when I turned the key. My car was officially dead, and I wasn’t going to make it to my job interview. I wasn’t close enough to walk unless I wanted to arrive with blisters on my feet and sweat dripping from—everything. Even if I tried, I wouldn’t make it time. Frustration surged through my veins, and I groaned as my head fell forward until it was stopped by the steering wheel. I wanted to cry—but I didn’t do that anymore. I swore that I wasn’t going to cry over anything ever again. I had already shed enough tears to last a lifetime.

  Just my freaking luck.

  I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and stared at the screen as I tried to figure out who I could call. I forgot to charge it the previous night and it was at twenty-percent battery. It was an old phone, and twenty-percent wouldn’t last long. I didn’t have enough money in my bank account to call for a tow, and all of the friends in my contact list were away at college—where I should have been, but I was forced to come home after making a terrible mistake. I considered calling my parents, but they were the last two people on the planet that wanted to hear from me. I had been officially branded the black sheep of the family and completely disowned by the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally.

  I don’t think I have a choice. The only thing I can do is leave my car here and walk back to my apartment.

  I wasn’t going to get the job I was supposed to interview for if I couldn’t even make it there. I didn’t want to burn the bridge completely, so I sent an apology email to the manager who was waiting on me. I got out of my car and started walking towards my apartment building. There was a good chance my car would be impounded. It rolled away from the lane of travel, but it wasn’t really parked.

  I was wearing a two-button navy blazer and a matching pencil skirt with the only set of heels I owned that looked professional. My attire wasn’t meant for walking long distances, and it certainly wasn’t going to be comfortable to make the trip with the sun beating down on me. Determination was enough to push me forward though, so I started wearing the soles off my only good set of heels. Unfortunately, I only made it a couple of blocks before my only good set of heels betrayed me. I caught the spike of my left shoe in a crack on the sidewalk, and it snapped. I stumbled, my ankle rolled, and I landed on my knee. The pain was immediate, and when I lifted it off the concrete, I left a layer of skin behind.

  “Fuck!” I slammed my hand into the concrete. “Really!?”

  My life had felt like it was falling apart for a while, but it seemed that I couldn’t even walk on my own two feet without physically falling as well. I shifted over to the curb and sat on the edge of it to inspect my knee since it took priority over my broken heel. The impact had torn through my pantyhose, and I was bleeding. It didn’t feel like anything was broken, but I was pretty sure it would swell. I looked at my shoe and decided that it could be repaired with some glue—but I didn’t have any. I wasn’t sure I would feel very safe walking on dried glue, but if I got another job interview, I probably wouldn’t have a choice.

  If I don’t get a job soon, it won’t matter if I have a good set of heels or not, because I will be homeless.

  The tears wanted to come, but I refused to let them fall. I wasn’t going to cry again. That was one vow that I couldn’t break. I sat on the curb for several minutes before I felt comfortable walking. I was already going to have a limp, and I didn’t need to complicate things by trying to make the rest of the trip on one heel. My only option was to make the trek with nothing between me and the filthy Los Angeles sidewalk but a thin pair of pantyhose. They were already ruined, so if I added a few more holes, it wasn’t going to matter much. I stood to my feet, tested my knee, and started walking.

  I feel like one of those zombies from The Walking Dead.

  I walked for another couple of blocks, and every step was more uncomfortable than the one before it. I still had more blocks to go than I had already walked. I needed a break, and I was close to a bus stop, so I hobbled over to the bench. It was too bad that I never bothered to buy a bus pass because I could have certainly used one. That thought also came with the sad realization that I was so broke it would be better to try and walk home with a busted knee than to spend a few dollars to ride the bus the rest of the way to my apartment building.

  Maybe I’m actually in hell—maybe I died of embarrassment while I was away at college, and now I’m in purgatory.

  I played around on my phone for several minutes before I felt like I had rested long enough to keep going. I put pressure on my knee, and when I started to stand, I realized that resting had made it worse. It was starting to get stiff, and swelling was inevitable. I took two steps, then had to grab the bench and sit back down. It seemed that my only option was to pay for bus fare when one finally arrived and feel some hunger pangs when my last three dollars would have bought me a cheeseburger from a fast food restaurant. I would probably be homeless by that point. I was sitting there hating my luck when a black sedan rolled up to the curb. The window lowered, and I saw a familiar face peering at me from the other side.

  “Madie? Are ye okay?” The Scottish accent and set of bluish-gray eyes were unmistakable.

  “Hey, Mr. Mackenzie.” I sighed and lifted my hand to wave. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  I’m not, but I don’t really want to admit that to him…

  “You don’t look okay. Get in.” He leaned across the passenger seat and opened the door.

  I really could use a ride to my apartment.

  “Okay.” I forced myself to stand, winced when I took a step, and kind of tumbled forward into his car—it felt eloquent considering how much my knee hurt.

  “What happened?” He leaned over and looked at my knee. “That looks like it hurts.”

  “I fell.” I looked down and sighed. “Will you take me to my apartment?”

  “Aye, lass.” He nodded and turned his attention back towards the road. “Where we going?”

  “That way.” I pointed towards my apartment. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mackenzie.”

  “Where are your manners, lass? I told ye a long time ago to call me Declan.” He turned the car around and started driving in the direction I was walking.

  “Sorry…” I nodded.

  Mr. Mackenzie—or Declan, as he preferred to be called, was my best friend’s father. It had bee
n nearly four years since I had seen him. I used to see him quite often when I was visiting my best friend, Anna—up until the point that her parents got divorced and he moved out. I think every single one of our friends had a secret crush on Anna’s father—most of our mothers did too, although mine would never admit something like that. When Anna wasn’t around, we called him Anna’s hot-dad. I even slipped up and said it to her once—which made her gag.

  Declan didn’t look like he had aged a day since I saw him last. He still had the same reddish-brown hair that was wavy on top and shaved on the side—still had the neatly trimmed beard that didn’t conceal the fact that his jaw looked like it could cut glass. He always had an incredible physique, but it looked like he had added some extra muscle judging by the way his t-shirt stretched around his biceps. He definitely had more ink than I remembered. The tattoo that used to only peek out of his sleeve ran all the way down his arm and onto his hand.

  If his appearance wasn’t enough to make someone’s stomach flutter, he also had the sexiest Scottish accent I had ever heard. He spent his younger years in Scotland and moved to the states when he was a teenager. Most of his words and phrases had been Americanized over time, but there were still a few hints of his homeland in there, often interchangeable unless he was going on a tangent about something. I had only heard that once when he got extremely angry after he caught us trying to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night when we were thirteen.

  “It’s that building right there.” I pointed at my apartment.

  “Alright.” He pulled up to the front of it and immediately got out of the car once he put it in park.

  “I should be okay.” I looked up at him as he opened the passenger side door and extended his hand.

  “I saw ye stumble when you got in the damn car.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want you to fall on yer face getting out.”

  “Thanks.” I took his hand, and when I put weight on my knee, I was glad to have the support.

  “I’ll help ye get to your apartment.” He kept a tight grip on my hand as I started to walk.

  “Thank you…” I sighed and nodded.

  Declan helped me walk to the elevator and decided to ride with me to my floor. I was feeling a little embarrassed that I needed help, and also rather concerned about how bad my knee would be once it did finish swelling. The elevator came to a stop with a jerk, and I winced. My apartment building was in a safe part of Los Angeles, but the only reason it was affordable was because almost everything was outdated. I was just glad the elevator wasn’t out of service like it had been a few times since I moved in. I hobbled towards my apartment once we stepped off the elevator, with Declan making sure I didn’t add some carpet burn to my already damaged knee.

  “This is my apartment.” I put my hand on the door and pulled my keys out of my purse. “I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem at all lass. Do you have a first aid kit? I can clean that up for you.” He motioned to my knee.

  “I think I can handle it.” I sighed and pushed the key into my door.

  “I’ll help you get to the couch at least. Your knee needs to be elevated.” He tilted his head to the side.

  “Okay.” I nodded, opened my door, and hit the light switch like I always did—but nothing happened. “Oh shit…”

  “What’s wrong?” He followed me into my apartment.

  I thought I had another week before they shut off my power!

  “Nothing.” I turned back towards him and tossed my shoes on the floor near the bathroom. “I’m sure it’s just a tripped breaker or something. I’ll call the landlord. He should be able to sort it out.”

  Hopefully, that will convince him to leave so I don’t have to tell him that I can’t even afford to pay my freaking electric bill.

  2

  Declan

  I almost drove past my daughter’s best friend before I recognized her. I hadn’t seen Madie in almost four years—in person at least. My daughter, Anna, had pictures of her friends on Facebook, which is why I took a second look when I realized the lass sitting at the bus stop looked familiar. Her knee wasn’t in good shape and I was pretty sure that it was going to be a swollen mess in a few hours. That wasn’t my main concern at the moment though. There was something in her voice when she said her lights didn’t come on because she had a tripped breaker—her tone wasn’t very convincing. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw a stack of overdue bills sitting on the table when I helped her get to the couch.

  “Are you going to call the landlord?” I motioned to her phone.

  “Yeah, in a little bit.” She nodded. “I’m just going to rest for a few minutes. My knee really hurts.”

  “Where’s that first aid kit?” I tilted my head slightly.

  “I told you—I’ll care of it.” She dismissed my question with a wave of her hand.

  “Let me help ye clean that up before I go.” I narrowed my eyes. “I insist.”

  “Okay.” She sighed. “I think it’s in the bathroom.”

  I walked into the bathroom and opened the cabinet under the sink. There were a few bottles of cleaning supplies that were almost empty and a broken hairdryer, but I didn’t see a first aid kit. The medicine cabinet had a bottle of Tylenol and a few prescriptions, but once again—no first aid kit. The drawers were empty except for some junk jewelry and a few feminine products. The closet didn’t have anything but towels. There was no sign of a first aid kit anywhere.

  “It’s not in there.” I walked back into the living room.

  “Oh…” She shrugged. “I’m not sure where it is then. I should be okay. It feels better already.”

  “It looks like it’s still swelling.” I looked down at her knee.

  There’s no way that feels better than it did when I had to help her walk to her apartment.

  “I’ll put some ice on it.” She looked up at me and smiled, but it looked forced.

  “That might be a problem.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Especially if ye don’t have power.”

  “Right…” She sighed. “I’m sure my power will be back on soon—the landlord will take care of it.”

  Madie…” I exhaled sharply. “I saw the stack of bills over there. Did yer power get turned off?”

  “What—no!” Madie’s voice cracked and I saw a terrified look in her emerald eyes for a second before she managed to force a smile.

  “Don’t lie to me, lass,” I growled under my breath. “You were never very good at it.”

  “That obvious, huh?” She sighed, and her head slumped forward. “I’m—having a tough time. I was on my way to a job interview when my car broke down, and then I was walking home when my shoe decided to break down on me too.”

  “Okay, you’re coming home with me.” I unfolded my arms and extended my hand. “I’m not leaving ye here in the dark—especially since you don’t even have a first aid kit to clean up that wound.”

  “Declan, no.” She shook her head back and forth. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Do I have to insist again?” I tilted my head slightly. “Come on, ye can pack an overnight bag and I’ll help you with your car tomorrow.”

  I could see hesitation in Madie’s eyes, but there was no way that I was going to leave her in an apartment with no power when she could barely walk. Even if I was the kind of guy who could do that sort of thing, my daughter would kill me if she found out I abandoned her best friend when she needed help. She tried to shift on the couch and stand—probably to show me that she was fine, but she wasn’t. Her knee was starting to get stiff, and the wound was beginning to scab.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I guess it would be foolish to spend the night here when I don’t have power.”

  I helped Madie walk the bedroom, and she put a change of clothes in a bag. After that, I helped her get to the bathroom so she could grab a few necessities. The walk back to my car took longer than the walk to her apartment—mainly because she kept trying to do it on her own instead of letting me
help. She was always a proud lass, even when she was younger. I could tell that she didn’t like having to rely on someone else. Her body language said that, even when she was grimacing too much to say it out loud.

  “In ye go.” I opened the passenger side door.

  “Thank you.” She forced another smile and held my hand until she was seated in my car.

  I tried to ask Madie a few questions about her situation once we were on the road, but she seemed rather hesitant to talk about it. I decided not to be too pushy. There was obviously something going on though because she was supposed to be at school. I remembered Anna telling me that Madie got a scholarship to a school in Oregon. That’s where she should have been—not applying for jobs in Los Angeles. If she was back in Los Angeles, then there was no reason for her to be living on her own and struggling to pay her bills. Her parents were good people as far as I knew. I doubted they would abandon their daughter—unless something really bad happened. If she didn’t want to talk about it, all I could do was offer a helping hand. I hoped someone would do the same thing for Anna if she was in a tough spot.

  “Alright, we’re here.” I turned into my driveway and pointed at the house.

  “Wow—this is a pretty nice place.” She tilted her head and looked out the window.

  “It was my great aunt’s house—it’s mine now.” I parked the car and turned off the engine.

  I had lived in my great aunt’s house since my divorce. I inherited it after she passed away. It looked nice on the outside, but the inside was a mess. My ex-wife and I planned to fix the house up so we could sell it, and that was still my plan, but it had become a solo project. I had plenty of time on my hands, but it was going slow. It seemed like every time I managed to get one thing fixed, I found two more problems that were even worse. Luckily, my ex-wife didn’t touch my inheritance when we got divorced, so I had enough money to live on and plenty to make the necessary repairs. The house would fetch a good price once I was finished.