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  Possessive Daddy Next Door

  BB Hamel

  Contents

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  1. Delia

  2. Max

  3. Delia

  4. Max

  5. Delia

  6. Max

  7. Delia

  8. Max

  9. Delia

  10. Max

  11. Delia

  12. Max

  13. Delia

  14. Max

  15. Delia

  16. Max

  17. Delia

  18. Max

  19. Delia

  20. Max

  21. Delia

  22. Max

  23. Delia

  Also by BB Hamel

  Copyright © 2020 by B. B. Hamel

  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.

  Cover design by Coverluv Book Designs

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  1

  Delia

  The birds are chirping, the air is clear and crisp, and I feel like my world is crumbling all around me.

  That’s dramatic. I mean, it’s true, but it’s dramatic. At least I can admit it.

  I walk along a shaded path under a canopy of green leaves. The underbrush crunches softly and there’s nobody around for miles, at least nobody that I’m aware of. I left Lofthouse Manor about twenty minutes ago, and the last thing I want to do is to have to talk to someone right now.

  Coming home with my tail between my legs isn’t exactly something I thought I’d ever have to do.

  I climb up a short rise, my breath coming hard. I’m not used to hiking anymore, not since I left for college. Back when I was a teenager, I used to hike around here all the time. It was the only way I could avoid my family and have a little time to myself. I used to be all over these trails, and it feels good to be out on them again, even if it’s been a long time.

  I make it up the top of the rise and hold on to a young sapling. I smile and shade my eyes as I look out down the hill. The view is beautiful. Trees spread out all around me, their leaves shining green in the high, bright sun. There’s not much out here in the woods of Virginia. Lofthouse Manor was built in seclusion outside of town, and my family owns most of the land all around here.

  I lean forward, trying to get a better look, when I feel something shift. It takes me a split second to realize that it’s the tree I’m holding.

  I hear a crack and I’m wheeling my other arm, trying to grab onto something, but it’s too late. The tree breaks and I stumble forward before toppling down.

  I hit the ground and roll. Fortunately, I wasn’t standing on the edge of a cliff. It was only a slow, rolling hill, but that’s not too much comfort as I hit the ground and bounce a little. I hit again and come to a skidding stop. I lie there in the dark, staring up at the sky, blinking slowly.

  That about sums up my life right now.

  I sit up with a groan. Nothing hurts too bad. I’ll have some bruises but as far as I can tell, nothing’s broken. I roll over and push myself to my feet and—

  “Oh, fuck,” I gasp when I put weight on my right ankle.

  Pain lances up. I try to take a step but the pain is too much. I gasp and drop back down on my ass. I lean back and put my foot up in the air.

  “Shit,” I say. I take my hiking boot off and look at my ankle. It’s already starting to swell. “Fuck!”

  I look around, as if I’m about to find someone that might help. But there’s nothing and nobody. I’m alone in the damn wilderness like a freaking moron.

  “Perfect.” I stare down at my ankle. “Just perfect.”

  I pull my boot back on but I don’t lace it up. It hurts too much, and anyway, it won’t matter. I crawl back up the hill and reach the top, pausing only to swat at the stupid tree that broke and caused this problem in the first place. I sit there at the top of the hill and look around, breathing hard again, sweating slightly. My ankle aches and I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’m twenty minutes from home, which means nobody’s going to hear me yell.

  I might have to hop all the way home.

  I start looking around for a stick to lean on when I hear a noise. I’m not sure what it is, could just be an animal, but I take the chance.

  “Help!” I call out, feeling like an idiot. “Is anyone there? Please help!”

  I sit still and listen. I hear the noise again, this time closer. Someone’s walking through the forest toward me.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  “I’m coming.” The voice is low and resonant. I shift a little bit toward the tree, wondering if I just made a horrible mistake. If this is a bad person, I can’t run away.

  He comes up the rise and stops when he spots me. I stare back at him, just as astonished as he seems to be.

  “You okay?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  I try and smile. “Uh, sort of.”

  “You look like you just fell down that hill.” He cocks his head and looks at the broken tree next to me. “You fell down that hill, didn’t you?”

  I blush and feel so dumb. “Yep. Sure did.”

  He takes a step closer. “My name’s Max,” he says.

  “I’m Delia.”

  “All right, Delia. What’s hurt?”

  “My ankle.”

  “How bad?”

  “Can’t put weight on it.”

  He nods once. “I can get you back to my place, bandage you up, and drive you home. Are you with anyone out here, or…?”

  I shake my head. “Nobody.”

  I’m tempted to tell him I’m here with my boyfriend… but I don’t want to lie. And I don’t feel afraid anymore.

  Max steps closer. I feel my heart start to beat faster.

  He’s handsome. Really, really handsome. He’s tall and broad with muscular arms. He’s wearing jeans and boots and a long-sleeve shirt. He has earbuds in his ears and he takes them out, rolls them up, and slips them into his pocket.

  “Lucky I heard you,” he says. “I was listening to a podcast and we got to a commercial.”

  I grin at him. “Were you skipping ahead?”

  “Yep.” He laughs. “I know it’s silly. Just hate the damn commercials.” He comes over and kneels down next to me. He has dark hair, cut short and neat. His beard is trimmed and short and his eyes are a cool, ice blue. “You mind if I take a look?”

  I shake my head. “No, that’s okay.”

  He helps me take my boot off again and looks at the ankle. “Sprained for sure,” he says. “Maybe broken, but I don’t think so. You said you can stand on it?”

  “Hurts, but I can.”

  “That’s a good sign.” He touches me gingerly. “I can bandage this up.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  He chuckles, low and deep. “No, not at all. I used to be a cop in a former life.”

  “Really?”

  “In a former life,” he repeats. “All right, let’s get you up.” He helps me put the boot back on. “You ready?”

  “Ready.”

  He crouches down and practically lifts me up to my feet. I can’t believe how strong he is, but he doesn’t seem to strain at all. Once I’m up, I put all my weight on one foot. He puts my arm around his shoulder and takes most of my weight onto him.

  “Okay. I don’t live far.”

  “Where?” I ask. “I’ve been wa
lking these woods my whole life and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone out here.”

  “I live in a cabin over that rise,” he says, gesturing with his chin. “Along that path over there.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Where the signs are.”

  He grins and nods. “Former owner put those up, but yep, the signs.”

  “That’s why I’ve never seen you.”

  “I moved in about two years ago,” he says and we get moving. It’s slow going, but he holds most of my weight, so I can hobble along with him. “I walk the woods when I have a day off and the kid’s in daycare.”

  “You have a kid?” I ask, surprised, or maybe disappointed. “And I guess your wife watches him?”

  “I have a daughter,” he says. “Her name is Tabitha. And my wife died just after she was born.”

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s, fine. It was a couple of years ago now.”

  “Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” He looks out ahead and doesn’t glance down at me, but I can’t take my eyes off him. Max is gorgeous, really handsome, and the more I look at him, the more I want to reach up and press my hand against his cheek.

  We move up another hill and over the rise to where the path splits. It goes right and up out of sight, which is where I used to hike. To the left, there are signs at the trailhead: WARNING, PRIVATE PROPERTY, PROTECTED BY DOGS. It’s hand-painted on wood, the lettering almost childish and blocky and fading from weather now.

  “There aren’t any dogs,” he says. “I doubt there ever were.”

  I laugh and lean against him. He catches me and rights my weight a bit so I don’t stumble onto my ankle. “I always thought that was a little much.”

  “The guy that lived here before was a little paranoid, honestly. He had all this stuff stocked in the basement. Offered to leave it, too.”

  “Really? I bet you took it.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. We walk past the signs and I feel strange for a moment. I remember being a young girl and walking this trail. I would never, ever go near those signs. They really creeped me out back then but now they just seem like some stupid joke.

  “Nah,” he says. “That stuff’s more trouble than it’s worth. You stockpile a hundred cans of beans, but when they start to expire in a few years, you’re ether eating beans for every single meal for a year or you’re throwing it all away.”

  “Does it have to be beans?” I ask. “I mean, I could do that with wine.”

  He laughs again. I like his laugh. It’s low and genuine. “I don’t think wine has quite the same nutritional value.”

  “True, but it’s a lot more fun.”

  “Believe it or not, apocalypse prep people aren’t super into having fun. They’re more into, like, guns. And beans.”

  “Guns and beans. Sounds like a good time.”

  He grins at me and we keep going. “What were you doing out here, anyway?”

  “Oh, just hiking.” We move around a bend in the trail and ahead I spot a little cabin. “You?”

  “Same. Kid’s at daycare and I’m out of work right now, so I have a lot of time.”

  “Out of work?”

  He sighs. “Yeah. Not a cop anymore, so I was working at the box factory over on the other side of town. But they shut down production, so now I’m looking for something new.”

  “Box factory. Sounds… fun.”

  “Oh, you have no clue. It was a blast. I loved folding the cardboard over and over again. I got damned good at it.”

  I grin at him and he laughs. “Well, I’m sorry you’re out of work. That really stinks. Times are hard around here.”

  He nods at me. “I’m fine though, to be honest. I have a police pension which pays enough. I have savings. I was mostly working so I could put Tabitha through college one day.”

  “Hey, you never know. She could go to trade school.”

  He grunts at that. “Not my girl. She’s smart, smarter than I am. Got that from her mother.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, but take that with a grain of salt. She’s only two. So you can’t really tell yet.”

  I laugh a little. “You can tell.”

  We move down into a little front yard. There’s a gravel driveway leading down through the trees, and I realize his driveway probably hits the same road the manor’s driveway hits, except further down. The cabin itself is in good shape. The shutters look new and there’s new paint on the door and the porch. The siding is clean and the landscaping is actually pretty nice.

  “Cute,” I say. “I had no clue this was here.”

  “Wasn’t cute when we moved here,” he says. “Had a lot of work to do, but it’s been good for me. Keeping me busy.”

  “Between the factory, the kid, and the landscaping, how did you have time for yourself?”

  He looks at me with a little smile. “Didn’t. Come on, let’s go in and get you settled.” He helps me up the front steps and in through the front door.

  The cabin’s nice inside. We step into a living room with a couch, some chairs, and a decent television. It’s well furnished, light and airy, with black and white photographs of a city hanging on the walls.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Philadelphia,” he says. “Where I’m from.”

  “Really? My brother lives and works there.”

  “It’s a good city,” he says, nodding. “Here you go.” He helps me down into one of the chairs.

  “Thanks,” I say, leaning back with a sigh.

  “Stay there. Don’t go hopping around. I’ll be right back.”

  He disappears through a side hall and I lean back in the chair.

  It’s strange, being in this place. I don’t know this man or this cabin at all, and it’s barely a half hour from my own house. But the manor is just such an imposing place, it’s hard to even think about the world outside its walls.

  Max comes back a few minutes later with some bandages and clips. He rolls my pantleg up and takes off my sock. I suck in a sharp breath when he moves the ankle.

  “Bad, huh?” I ask him.

  “I’m not a doctor,” he says. “But I still don’t think you broke it.”

  The ankle’s swollen and black and blue already, which can’t be a good sign. He wraps the bandage around the hurt ankle, his hands gentle and caring. He smiles up at me when he finishes and clips it into place.

  “How’s that, not too tight?”

  “Perfect,” I say. I move my ankle a little but the bandage keeps it in place. “That’s great, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He rocks back onto his heels and looks at me. “So, Delia. Where the heck are you from?”

  I laugh a little. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  “I get to drive you home, so you might as well try.”

  “I live at Lofthouse Manor.”

  His face goes flat. I knew he’d react that way. Most people in this town are weird about me being a Lofthouse. I think it’s because we own everything. Almost everyone living in Loftville is our tenant, whether business or private individual.

  “You’re one of those, huh,” he says.

  I keep smiling through it. “Yep, one of those.”

  “Folks say a lot of things about the Lofthouse family. Is it true you all sacrifice babies out in the woods at night?”

  “Only on full moons.”

  We stare at each other until he laughs. I laugh with him and he stands up with a stretch. “Well, Delia Lofthouse, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too, Max…”

  “Fellows.” He looks at me for a second. “You want something to drink?”

  “That would be great.”

  “You’re lucky I came along,” he says as he walks back through that hall again. I can hear him get out a glass from a cupboard and fill it with water. “That big house is pretty far from here.”

  “Half-hour walk, more or less,” I say.

  “Not a bad hike.”

  “I w
as thinking about going for another half hour then turning back.”

  “Didn’t work out that way.”

  “Nope.”

  He gives me the water and I sip it. He sits down and watches me for a long moment. I let out a breath and smile at him.

  “Thanks again,” I say. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Not often a pretty girl needs my help anymore. Just a toddler running around here these days.”

  I smile at that. I can’t help it. “I’m sure you have enough pretty girls with her.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised.” His eyes stare into mine. I feel my heart start to beat faster. I drink my water to try to cover my excitement, not even sure what I’m feeling. “Anyway, let’s get you home.”

  “Sure.” I put the glass down and he helps me up. We hobble back outside where there’s a black truck waiting on the gravel driveway. He opens the door, helps me in, and goes around behind the driver’s side.

  Dust kicks up behind the truck as it bumps down the driveway. “Sorry,” he says. “Not real even out here. Guy before me didn’t maintain this very well.”

  “No need for a driveway when the world’s about to end,” I comment.

  He grins. “I think you’re right about that.”

  We come out onto the main road and he drives me back home. The manor isn’t far by road, and it takes us about ten minutes to get there. He pulls in and we stop at the front gate.

  I don’t want to buzz it and go in. I know what my parents are going to say. Archie will give me that disappointed look and Mother will roll her eyes at me. I want to stay in this truck with this man, this attractive, funny, gorgeous man. His truck smells like leather and smoke and hard, sweating bodies. I want to lean across the space between us and put my head on his shoulder.