Page 1 of Strip It Down (Spoiled by My Blue Collar Man #4)

Sayer

Inhaling deeply, I force a grin and a lightness to my voice and try again. “Ayla, please take one more bite for me.”

She meets my gaze, opens her mouth, reaches out with her hand and takes the egg from the fork, pushing the crumbles into her mouth the best she can.

Dad chuckles.

“You aren’t helping.”

“Son, she’s at an age where she wants to try to do for herself.”

I glare across the diner booth at him. “She can’t do for herself. I forgot the damn kid fork again and she’ll poke her eye out with a real fork. She’s not eating enough as it is. The last pediatrician said she’s underweight and looked at me like I was gum on the bottom of her shoe.”

“It’s all going to be okay, son. You’re doing fine.” He takes his coffee cup off the plate, scrapes the scrambled eggs onto it, adds some of his leftover french fries and puts the plate on her highchair tray.

Ayla immediately grabs a fry and chews on it, while stuffing a palm full of egg in her mouth.

Elbows on the table I cradle my head in my palms. “I suck at this.”

“Sayer, look at me.”

Begrudgingly, I do.

“Son, you have only known about her for four months. Only met her three months ago. During most of that time you saw her with supervision, twice a week. She’s only been ours for a month.

Most fathers have a minimum of nine months to prepare.

You’re doing fine. You’ve already got the most important part down. ”

“What’s that?”

“You stepped up, and you love her.”

Taking a deep breath, I study my daughter. My daughter .

I never knew that the wild weekend after a particularly brutal deployment had produced such an exquisite reminder of life.

Hell, I barely remember the weekend. We’d been deployed for six months, lost a third of our squad and others were seriously injured.

Those left standing were drowning our sorrow, when someone brought in some women.

It was a release. An affirmation of life. I’m not proud of it. I vaguely remember the condom breaking. She said we were good, she didn’t need it anyway. Said she’d take care of it.

I remember stumbling outside, getting sick, and falling asleep in the yard.

Two years, two months later I get approached for a DNA test. Ayla’s mom thought the guy she’d been living with was the father.

Turns out he wasn’t. She was going down a list of the guys she’d been with around the time she got pregnant.

She remembered me because she liked my name, and I was polite.

Not like most of her johns. What started out as a shake down, ended up with her overdosing and a battle with the courts to gain custody of the little girl who is my biological child.

Ayla’s mom was not abusive in the true sense of the word, but neglectful. Dad and I talked. Thankfully, I was able to get custody of Ayla and she’s mine now.

I didn’t see it coming. Never thought about kids. I was married to my career. But I love her. It only took one glance from her innocent brown eyes, one smile from bowed lips, and the first time she grabbed my finger and tried to stick it in her mouth.

I love her with my whole heart. I can’t imagine life without her. It was a fight, but she’s mine now.

In the middle of that, Dad had what they called a mini heart attack. A heart attack is a heart attack in my book. And they’re all serious. After losing Mom when I was sixteen to a brain aneurysm, I can’t lose Dad too.

He’s been good, taking care of himself, doing what the doctors say, but was warned that keeping the business by himself was not in his best interest unless he could be owner in name only.

I’d planned on a career in the Army. Instead, after ten years in, I got a separation, a commitment to the reserves and a construction company that needs some serious updating, even if we are in a small town.

Ayla reaches out her hand to Dad. “More.”

French fries and chicken tenders, I swear that’s the only food she knows. With enough cheese dip sometimes a few green beans and broccoli flowerets.

I push a large curd of egg toward her. “Ayla, eat that bite of egg and you can have another French fry.”

“No.”

I hold the fry out of reach. “Then no fry.”

“No.”

Growing up working around the business with my dad, I can frame a house without thinking twice, drywall the most difficult angles. I can field strip a weapon with my eyes closed. Carry a seventy-pound ruck sack for twelve miles.

I’m frickin’ clueless when it comes to raising a child.

“Eat two bites of egg and I’ll let you have two fries with white ketchup.”

She gives me the stink eye, before shoving two decent bites of egg in her mouth.

Dad chuckles. “She does take after you. Stubborn. And you always ate your pizza with ranch dressing. The next few years are going to be fun.”

I take a bite of my omelet. “Dad, we need to make some changes. I’ve been looking at the books.”

“Don’t worry son. I take care of those on Sundays.”

“Dad, I’ve been home a month and all you’ve done on Sundays is payroll and the most pressing bills. And you’re still doing it in a manual ledger book. It needs to be computerized.”

“We don’t have that many clients that we have to get all fancy.”

“Dad, I want to grow the business. I want a house for Ayla and me. I’ll need enough for college for her.”

“Our house is plenty big for the three of us.”

“Dad, the house is yours. You want me to take over running the company. I plan on growing it. I want to hire at least a part time bookkeeper. You’re supposed to be cutting back, taking some much-needed time off.

Maybe take that cruise to Alaska you’ve always talked about. Or go fishing with your buddies.”

He looks out the window at the shops across the street. “Been a long time since I took time off. Could use a little something.” Shifting his gaze to me, “You sure you’re up for all this? Moving, managing the job, and the little one?”

“I can handle this.” I hope .

He stands. “Well then, take care of the bill, I’m gonna grab a cup of coffee.”

“Dad, you just had a cup of coffee.”

“I want the good stuff from across the street. There’s a nice little coffee shop over there called ‘Bean Me Up’ that makes great decaf. It’s got some real flavor. I’ll see you later at home.”

I watch him stride across the street like a man on a mission. I haven’t seen him move that fast since I got back to town.

Ayla looks at me squirming in her seat.

“Potty?”

She nods. Oh shit. I was out of pull-ups. She only has on underwear. Grabbing her backpack, I follow the sign to the bathrooms.

Men.

Women .

I spin around looking for the family restroom as two guys walk past me into the men’s room.

A woman walks out of the ladies, and I turn to her. “Do you know where the family restroom is? I need to take my daughter.”

She glances up at me and a niggle of recognition fights for purchase against my desperation to get my little one to a bathroom without an accident.

She shakes her head. “I told them to put one in, but they didn’t listen. You got two choices. I can take her. Or when the last woman comes out, I guard the door, and you go in. I guess you could go to the guy’s room…”

“There’re guys in there. Can you take her? If she doesn’t make it, I’ll come in and clean up the mess.”

The woman opens her arms. “Come on, sweetie. Girl time.”

I wait anxiously. Did I do the right thing? I knew there were guys using the urinal. Would a two-and-a-half-year-old even notice? Did it matter? She’s too young for the girls and boys are made different talk. Hell, she’s walked in on me and not said anything.

What the hell am I doing? Kids were supposed to be for the future…maybe. I was an only child and there was no partner on my radar. I was a career man.

Running a hand over my short hair I pace back and forth. What’s taking so long? Damn, I suck at this.

I’ve just about decided to go in when the woman walks out with Ayla in her arms. My daughter is giggling. She hasn’t done that often.

The woman looks across at me and smiles. That niggle of recognition is back. “Sorry, we had to wash our hands. A couple of times since the electric soap dispenser was so fun. What’s her name?”

“Ayla, like A-La. It means moonlight.” Now I’m rambling. Geez.

“That’s beautiful. Just like she is.”

“Thank you. We just moved back from a bigger city. I’m used to the places always having a family bathroom. I guess I’ll have to double check going forward.”

A man’s voice sounds from behind me. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. You weren’t in your office.”

The woman’s jaw clenches. I turn recognizing the guy from years ago. “She was kind enough to help me with my daughter since you don’t have a family restroom.”

Turning my back on the jerk, I smile at her. “Thank you again for your help.” She nods.

As we head out of the hall into the seating area, I’m making my way to the cashier when another woman calls out loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. “That’s the jerk who stiffed me!”

Suddenly, I remember half the reason I moved away from this small town.

The loudmouth judgmental, jump to conclusions population who thought they knew everything about everybody just from hearsay.

Once you got a reputation, you’d never change anyone’s mind.

I’m sure some of them still think of me as Fists.

I turn to her and respond just as loudly. “My daughter had to go the restroom.” I hold up the lunch ticket. “Now that she’s done, I’m going to the cashier to pay. If I’d been stiffing you, I’d have gone out the back door.

“Since we’re at it, I’m only giving a two-dollar tip because I had to ask for silverware twice, got the ketchup but not the mustard, and I’m still waiting for the milk for my little girl.” I glance around the room. “Hope everybody got all that.”

I hand the cashier the ticket, two twenties and walk out the door.