CHAPTER ONE
Mandy
My ancient Accord puttered into the driveway of the Parkers’ house, coming to a grinding halt, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d made it. My car hadn’t broken down and I’d made it all the way to my next job. Because I hadn’t babysat for the Parkers in months now, and the money would definitely be useful with tuition due soon.
But as I got my bearings, another sigh escaped me because driveway probably wasn’t even the right word to describe the gravel road. It was a huge, circular rotunda, the kind that you could imagine an army of horses and carriages pulling up to, with a butler answering the door, stiff-lipped with a tray of drinks. And in addition to the huge, stone mansion, there were vast grounds, a beautifully landscaped garden, plus an infinity pool that I could glimpse just around the corner, the water peaceful and smooth in the winter light.
So yeah, the Parkers lived like kings. And even though we’re technically neighbors in the same gated community, my parents are in the modest portion, with medium-sized homes and small yards, whereas my employers lived up the hill in the extravagant millionaires’ section. But what the hell, I was here for a job and little Violet was the cutest thing, a spunky ball of fire. I couldn’t wait to see her again, those flaxen curls, the baby blues that could melt your heart. Even when she was a terror, the tiny blonde was still adorable, a small whirlwind of energy that could make any adult smile and sigh with exasperation at once.
So switching off the ignition, I stepped out of my battered car before carefully walking up the steps to knock on the big door. Just a couple months ago, I would have bounded up the steps like a streak of lightning, athletic and thin as a whip. But I’ve changed these past couple months, and where I used to be rangy and gristly, now I had curves. There was no more tearing up the stairs like a girl on fire, there was too much bounce and flesh, too much sweet heft. So I walked like a lady, hips swaying, trying to keep things decent.
But total silence greeted me after ringing the doorbell. Weird, that was strange. After another minute, I rang the bell again. Maybe they were all upstairs and couldn’t hear? But then some scuffling noises sounded, some bumps, and finally the door opened, revealing Mr. Parker.
I smiled shyly, trying not to show my nervousness because Mr. Parker’s always been gorgeous and this time was no exception. The big male was huge and dark, filling up the doorway, making me feel positively tiny, teacup-sized. Of course I’d always noticed, but seeing him again only confirmed his hotness. Coal-colored hair and blue eyes so intense they positively seared my frame. Plus, he had body to die for as well, none of that flabby dad-bod stuff. Broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist, with long, powerful legs clad in dress pants.
“Oh hey Mandy,” he rumbled. “So sorry, we’re a little … Violet, stop!” he called out.
And as we stood there, a giant wail rang out, making Mr. Parker grimace a bit.
“Come in, come in,” he ground out, exasperated, taking a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”
And even though my heart was pumping from his nearness, I made myself smile and step into the foyer. This, I definitely remembered. The space was huge, all marble floors with a giant chandelier swinging over our heads.
“Where’s Violet?” I asked tentatively, trying to look nonchalant.
Mr. Parker took another deep sigh. Come to think of it, he was worn around the edges, there were brackets around his deep blue eyes that hadn’t been there before and his laugh lines were a little more prominent. Must have been his job, I knew he worked in finance doing something, what I wasn’t exactly sure.
“Violet,” he called out again, one hand on the bannister. “Come down please, your favorite person is here.”
And the patter of small footsteps sounded before a tiny blonde bundle hurtled down the stairs into my arms.
“Mandy, Mandy,” cried the five year-old. “You’re here!”
The little girl was such a sweetheart. Despite today being a regular day and not a holiday, she had on a purple ballerina dress, complete with stiff tutu and a glittery crown on her head.
“Hi sweetheart,” I said cheerily. “I like your outfit. Were you playing princess upstairs?”
Violet drew back for a moment and I saw that her chubby face was streaked with tears and eyes red from crying.
“You okay honey?” I asked, more gently this time. “Did the evil witch come?”
She nodded silently, blue eyes looking up at me, slight smears of chocolate around her mouth. But that was okay, kids get dirty really easily and it could be fixed with a warm washcloth, no problem.
But there was something was different about Violet’s appearance, it wasn’t my imagination. Just like her dad, she looked exhausted, which was not okay for a five year-old. Kids get tired, sure, but they fall asleep right away and wake up completely refreshed, every day is a new day for them. So it worried me though I tried not to show it. Murmuring reassuringly, I said, “Vi, we’ll get you dinner, cleaned up and then ready for bed okay?”
But the little girl screamed then, kicking and jerking her legs violently against me.
“Oof!” the breath woofed out of my stomach, her patent shoes pounding painfully against my hips. “Ouch!”
And Mr. Parker stepped in then, bodily hauling his daughter off of me, clamping her tight against his big form.
“I’m sorry, we’ve been having a tough go of it recently, you know with Vivian moving out and all.”
I stopped in my tracks before catching myself and trying to look normal. Mrs. Parker had moved out? What? When? Why hadn’t my parents told me?
And Mr. Parker nodded again, eyes dark.
“Vivian moved out a couple months back,” he rasped, “and it’s been tough for Vi. She hasn’t been sleeping well, throwing tantrums left and right. So if you can manage her tonight, it’d be a miracle.”
I smiled tentatively.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said reassuringly even as my mind whirled. Oh my god, my poor little charge. Her mom left and now she was acting out? Heck, any child would do the same, even if Vivian Parker had barely been present in her daughter’s life. Most days, as far as I could tell, the woman hadn’t gotten up before noon and left most of Vi’s care to a nanny who did everything, feeding, bathing, playing with her own flesh and blood.
Speaking of which, where was the nanny? Mr. Parker, reading my mind, shook his head again.
“Mrs. Bee quit,” he ground out, shoulders tense as he hugged his daughter tight. “Vi got to be too much and Mrs. Bee was sixty, she couldn’t manage anymore. So she up and left and it’s just you and me, right kiddo?” he asked the little girl, who burrowed her blonde head into his shoulder, refusing to look up. “It’s just us and we’ll be okay right, kiddo?”
My eyebrows rose although I tried not to look surprised. Mr. Parker had been raising his daughter on his own for the past couple months? That was a tough one. Even though I’m not a parent myself, I’ve babysat a lot and it’s not an easy business. Tiny humans are demanding, always needing to eat, sleep, get their diaper changed, and the twenty-four hour supervision is exhausting. So Mr. Parker’s single dad status must have been tough, beyond tough actually. He was probably bone-tired, with a headache, a walking zombie.
And he shook his head with a weary sigh.
“Alright, I’m gonna hand her over to you now because I’ve got to get to the restaurant,” he rumbled, glancing at his wristwatch. “Shit, Alexandria’s gonna have my ass if I’m late,” he growled. “Here,” he said, making to pass his daughter to me. “Vi, it’s time for Daddy to go.”
But the little girl shrieked, clinging to him, linking her small arms tightly around the big man’s neck.
“Nooo!” she screamed. “Don’t go Daddy, don’t go!”
I tried to pull the little girl from her father although it was practically impossible, she was like a barnacle glued to him. Her little legs locked around the alpha’s waist and she burrowed her face in his shoulder again.
“Nooo!” she screamed repeatedly. “No no no!”
“Come on Vi,” I said gently, getting in close and putting my hand under her arms. “Come on, we’ll make something really good for dinner okay? Remember how much you like peanut butter oh-ohs? How about I make you some and we eat them together? Come on, it’ll be fun.”
And despite the fact that I should have been completely focused on my small charge, I couldn’t help but inhale Mr. Parker’s distinctive cologne close up. He smelled so good as I wrested his daughter from his grasp, the soft wool of his cashmere sweater brushing against me, that square jaw and piercing blue eyes just inches away from my face. I blushed hotly, body heating and growing melty inside, quivering a bit at his nearness. But I steeled myself and shook my head. Get with it girl, I scolded. You’re here to help with a heartbroken child, one who has no mom anymore, and instead you’re thinking about the dad? Don’t be so shallow.
But I couldn’t help my body’s reaction because there aren’t very many hot men on campus, they’re mostly just boys, gangly adolescents with teen acne and wisdom tooth pains. And while there have been a couple boys interested, they were just that, boys, juvenile and lame. Next to Mr. Parker and his dark dominance, the guys at school reminded me of puppies, annoying, yapping at my heels, always trying to paw me. So yeah, Mr. Parker was a nice change, a real man who was assertive, assuring, always in charge.
But something was different this time. Maybe it was because I was standing mere inches away, my nose practically touching his, but Mr. Parker’s jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring, and a dark stain lit his cheekbones. My heart suddenly began pumping a million miles a minute. Could it be? Oh my god, was Mr. Parker aroused by me? By plain old Mandy Smith? My nipples immediately perked, insides growing wet from the realization that this perfect male animal wanted me.
But I guess it’s not that weird because I have changed a lot in the last year. Like I mentioned, I used to be really ugly and unfortunate looking. I was thin as a twig with braces, with frizzy brown hair and Coke-bottle glasses and no fashion sense. But I decided I didn’t want to start college looking like Punky Brewster’s older sister. So I got the braces removed and started wearing contacts, which was tough because it’s literally putting something in your eye, it freaked me out at first.
And somehow, as if sensing my desire to transform myself, my body began a metamorphosis too. I put on significant weight and am now curvy instead of stick thin. Fortunately, I’m young so all the weight went to the right places and I’ve got big Double D’s plus a wide, swinging ass, and thick thighs. Okay, I guess I wish the thighs were a little thinner, but you know what? After eighteen years as a stick figure, I can handle a little heft down there, a little junk in the trunk.
So I guess it wasn’t so strange that Mr. Parker noticed my changed body. There were boys at school who’d asked me out, making it clear that they’d be only too happy to take me to bed, do the dirty on our first date. But I dunno, I didn’t want to lose my virginity in some tiny dorm bed, so narrow that I even have trouble sleeping in it alone. And besides, on the first date? I have nothing against pulling the trigger fast, but still, those guys were so puppy-like, I couldn’t possibly. So I was saving myself for something more, for a sensuous, memorable evening, not some drunken fling on a hard mattress.
And Mr. Parker would be a good time, I could feel it in my bones. Oh god, if he took me to bed … oh god yes, I’d be so into it, breasts vibrating with his nearness, feminine instincts immediately attuned to his masculine dominance. Heat flared in my pussy, growing embarrassingly moist and I forced myself into the present once more. Mr. Parker’s way out of your league, I scolded myself. Even now, he’s probably headed out on a date with some gorgeous vixen, not a naïve eighteen year-old like you.
So as you can tell, I still wasn’t exactly confident mentally. Sure, I had a new body and some newfound attention from the opposite sex, but inside, I’m still the same old me, Mandy Smith, no one special, nerd extraordinaire. Shaking myself back to reality, I managed to hoist Violet away from her dad finally, and the little girl burrowed her blonde head against me, still sobbing, miserable.
“Mandy,” she cried through her sobs, “I missed you.”
And my heart immediately went out to the little girl. Shame on you, I scolded myself. Thinking about your non-existent sex life when a little girl’s had her heart broken.
And immediately I clicked into maternal mode.
“Come on honey,” I said, hugging her small form close. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll get you some dinner.”
And as Violet calmed, her little fists unclenched, lifting her head to nod at me with wide, tear-stained eyes. Mr. Parker let out a deep sigh of relief then before heading over to the hall closet to grab his coat.
“Thanks so much,” he rumbled, turning to look at us once more, his hand on the doorknob, blue eyes piercing, oh so magnetic. “I know I can trust you with Vi, Mandy, you’re amazing.”
And I colored despite my resolve to be easy-breezy and casual.
“Of course, Mr. Parker, it’s no prob, I love Violet.”
And Mr. Parker looked hard at me once before smiling, white teeth flashing.
“I know you do,” he said in a low voice, “And Mandy,” he said, clearing his throat suddenly, “don’t you think it’s time you called me Pete now?”
I giggled a little. I knew Mr. Parker’s name was Peter Parker, and it was so funny. Just like Spiderman?
He grinned knowingly.
“Yep, just like Spiderman, so I go by Pete, not Peter,” he rumbled. “So call me Pete from now on,” he said with a wink before softly shutting the door behind him, exiting soundlessly like a big cat.
I rolled the name around on my lips experimentally. Pete. Pete Parker. It sounded good and I smiled to myself. I really was growing up, if Mr. Parker asked me to call him by his first name. And you know what? I was a big girl now … and ready for big girl adventures.