SEAL Daddy Next Door Read online

  Table of Contents

  SEAL Daddy Next Door

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12 - Epilogue

  13 - Epilogue

  Mailing List

  Contents

  SEAL Daddy Next Door

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12 - Epilogue

  13 - Epilogue

  Mailing List

  Copyright © 2017 by Kara Sparks

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  SEAL Daddy Next Door

  By

  Kara Sparks

  1

  Chance

  Last night, I had this whole morning planned out perfectly. I was going to wake up an hour and a half before I wanted to leave. I was going to shower. I was going to have plenty of time to dry myself off, make myself look nice for my first day at my new job and make a good impression.

  It all went south pretty quickly.

  I wake in a pretty good mood. I’m in my new house, there are birds chirping outside the window of my picture perfect suburban home. The fancy digital alarm clock on the bed stand is staring back at me. It’s 7:30 and I slept like a rock. Life is great.

  Wait.

  I scramble out of bed and hold the clock up to my face. 7:30?! That can’t be right. I set the darned thing to go off at 6:30am so I’d have plenty of time to get ready. I throw myself over the other side of the bed to grab my phone in hopes that the clock is wrong. Nope. It’s definitely that time, and I definitely have to be at my new school in the next thirty minutes. Okay, take a breather for a moment Chance. You still have plenty of time to get ready and be at your new job nice and early.

  I do some quick mental math. The school is a five minute drive away. Providing that my hunk of junk car gets me there without any problems, I still have 25 minutes to get myself prim and proper.

  I do a quick under arm check to see if I can get away with not showering. Yuck, okay. Definitely not. Yesterday was a big day moving all my stuff off the truck and into the house. Apparently lugging all those boxes put my sweat glands into turbo mode. Speed shower it is.

  I jump out of the bed, run around the maze of boxes that are littering the floor of the master bedroom and burst into the en suite. I turn the shower head all the way to right and a second later a jet of steaming hot water is cascading down onto the smooth tiles below.

  Have you ever wondered if you hold any unofficial world records that go undocumented? I hadn’t given it much thought before that morning, but I think there’s a reasonable chance I’m an unofficial world record holder for stripping, showering, getting out and getting dry. I practically spin in the shower like Clark Kent when he’s in the phone box changing into superman. Truth be told, I’m a little less graceful than Clark Kent. I get shampoo in my eyes, I drop my nice bottle of fancy body wash and cry as the cap splinters into a thousand pieces. I somehow get the loafer hooked on the shower door and spend thirty seconds I don’t have trying to get the darn thing unhooked.

  I consider shaving my legs. It’s been a few days and lord knows it’s due. I look at the frog themed clock on the bathroom wall beside the mirror; the same one that Uncle Joe somehow thought looked good. 7:35. Legs be damned, I’m on turbo mode and I’m only covering the essentials. Hair, armpits, and any other area that gets unnecessarily sweaty.

  I shut the water off and fly out the shower, nearly tripping over the shower mat and breaking my neck in the process. Take it easy Chance, you’re not going to make a good impression on your first day at Springbok Elementary if you turn up dead.

  I grab a towel off the wall and wrap it around me, turning myself into a fuchsia colored burrito. After drying my hair I throw on some eyeliner and blush. Normally I like to spend more time making my face up, but the frog clock says it’s now 7:40. Makeup be damned. I’m on turbo mode and I need to throw some damned clothes on. I run into the bedroom and straight to the open suitcase on the floor. It’s empty. Why is it empty? That’s when I remember.

  “Damnation!”

  I sprint out of my bedroom, skid onto the landing and take the stairs down to the laundry room three at a time. After I finished pulling all the boxes in last night I opened a bottle of wine and got the fantastic idea that it was a great time to do laundry. The last thing I did before climbing into bed, was throwing the freshly washed laundry into the dryer and letting it tumble overnight. Fingers crossed my wine lapsed judgment hasn’t shrank everything I own.

  I run across the cold kitchen floor and into the laundry room to hear the dryer is still running. Crap. I throw open the door and pull my laundry out into a steaming heap onto the cold laundry room floor. I pick up the first pair of panties I see and hold them in my hands. They’ve shrunk to half their original size. Double crap.

  Okay, breathe Chance. You’ve got dozens of fresh panties here, there’s no chance they’re all shrunken.

  I drop to my knees and hurl half shrunken clothes over my shoulder, digging through the pile like a pig looking for truffles. Of all the delicates that were in the wash, one pair seem to have escaped the shrinking process relatively unharmed. I drop my towel to the floor and dress myself in the sexy lace panties and bra. There’s no denying it, the dryer has definitely had a shrinking effect on these items too. They’re uncomfortable, but they’re going to have to do for now. I’ll run into town after work later and immediately start on re-populating my desecrated wardrobe. Lucky for me I had the foresight to keep a cute dress on the back of the bedroom door upstairs.

  The clock on the kitchen microwave sneers a bold and crimson ‘7:48’ in my direction.

  “Get off my case microwave!” I yell to the empty house. Great. I’ve been living alone for one day and I’ve already lost my mind. My feet slap across the cold kitchen floor as my body jiggles against the tight restraints of the sexy lace underwear. All I have to do is get my dress from upstairs and then I can leave.

  That’s when I see the little chap standing between me and the stairs. His head is tilted to one side and his white tail is swishing through the air.

  It’s a… is that a god damn puppy?

  The puppy barks at me, as if I’m the one invading his house. Excuse me little fella, but you’re the fish out of water here. I open my mouth half in shock, unsure of what to do. If it had been any other morning I would have dropped to my knees and forgot about the world, but this is my first day. I can’t be late. I take a deep breath and focus.

  Alright Chance, think. Why is there a puppy in your house?

  The little pup can’t be older than three months old. He drops his little butt onto the laminate floor, yawns and starts panting, looking at me all the while. I step forward and scoop the little devil into my arms and look at the tag on his collar.

  “Milo.” I read out loud. “520 Sycamore Road.”

  Well I’ll be, that’s the house next door. The house with the single dad hunk that I’ve been avoiding…

  No Chance!

  I have to keep my head in the game. I have to get to work on time. Fantasy can come later.

  I’m about to start up the stairs with Milo to
get my dress and return him, when I hear the voice from behind me. His baritone whispers through the silent morning of the house like velvet. It turns me to jelly instantly.

  “Ah. I see you’ve found my puppy. Thank you.”

  I turn around and there I see the mountain of muscle and flesh standing in my hall: The ex-Navy SEAL, the dad next door, my new neighbor. My mouth drops open wide and I stammer like a love drunk schoolgirl.

  “This is - you are - what is… what are you doing in my house?!” I clutch the puppy to my chest, making half an effort to cover my half naked body.

  That’s when he takes a step forward, brushing his hand through his thick brown hair. He’s wearing tight jeans that accentuate a very full looking crotch, along with a tight white t-shirt that reveals that this man is a walking pillar of well-trained muscle. The short sleeves of his white shirt barely fit around his oak sapling biceps. His gray eyes pierce into my own with military precision. His face is broad, strong and handsome. His jaw is square, clean cut and just above it are a set of perfectly kissable lips. His nose is straight, but it looks like it might have been broken once, his brows are full. His eyes are electric gray, and they are sparkling into my own as if he knows something about me, as if he’s in on some joke that I’m not aware of.

  On top of all this is a short but neat crop of chocolate brown hair, which is dusted with fine traces of silver. The gray dusting and the deep set laughter lines around his handsome eyes are the only thing to suggest that he’s a little older than I am. The rest of his body doesn’t look a day over thirty, and he’s in better shape than any man I’ve ever seen. He opens his perfect lips, and he speaks again. His mouth curls up in a mischievous smile as he talks.

  “I apologize. It’s probably not the best way to introduce myself. I was out taking Milo on his morning walk when he got away from me. I chased him into your backyard, and when I got around back I saw his tiny butt slinking through the gap of your patio door. I think you may have left it open.”

  Before I even have time to process a response, Mr. Perfect has stalked across the hallway with stark confidence and pulled the puppy out of my hands. He cradles the tiny pup in one arm while holding his other hand in my direction.

  “My name is Rogan.” He says while holding my confused gaze. “Rogan Gold. I believe you’re my new neighbor.”

  I manage to pull myself out of my stupefied shock long enough to get my mouth working again. I put my hand in his and try my hardest not to squeal. The thick leather of his muscled fingers grips my delicate hand gently.

  “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Gold.” I whimper. “My name is Natalie. Natalie Tanner. Everyone calls me Chance though.”

  Rogan lifts an eyebrow while keeping hold of my hand. His eyes are still sparkling, and he’s still smiling. “Chance… that’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tell me. Are you living in this big house all by yourself? It’s a bit of a mess. Do you need someone to help you unpack?”

  His eyes finally break away from my body and he looks at the boxes of stuff littered across the hallway floor.

  “Yes… just me.” My heart pangs with hurt at the reminder. “But I’m fine honestly. I used to have a cleaning job during school. I’ll have this all sorted in no time.”

  He lets go of my hand and I become acutely aware that I’m wearing half shrunken lacy underwear. My face fills with red, not only at his compliment, but at the realization that I’m standing in front of my new neighbor half naked.

  “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat with you Mr. Gold, but I’m running very late for my first day - and I really don’t want to make a bad impression.”

  “Oh, of course. Forgive me.”

  Before I can even ask him to leave, Rogan is across the hallway and out the door, standing on my porch looking in. I run to see him out before he can leave, hiding half behind the door as I do so. In an effort to squeeze myself around the door, I knock my mail tray off the door-side table and send a thick wad of envelopes and bills skittering across the laminate and onto the porch.

  “Damn it, I’m so clumsy!”

  I drop to my knees and start picking up the bills quickly, hoping that Rogan won’t see them. He sets Milo down calmly and helps me grab the last of the mail.

  “Here.” He hands me the thick pad of envelopes marked ‘FINAL NOTICE’. I take a deep breath, grab the bills and chuck them back onto the table, out of sight. I thank him, and become overtly conscious that my face is redder than a beetroot.

  “Thanks Mr. Gold.”

  “Please, call me Rogan. Mr. Gold is my father. I wouldn’t want a beautiful young thing like you thinking I’m some old creep.”

  My lips flap again. “Beautiful? Oh… heavens no. You’re not an old creep. You’re…” I trail off, as my eyes linger on the full barrel of his chest, half imagining what he looks like under that tight white t-shirt.

  He raises his eyebrows and cranes his neck to break my thousand yard stare. “I’m…?”

  I stare straight past Rogan and see the canary yellow school bus for Springbok Elementary hurtling down the road behind him.

  “I’m running super late, I’m sorry Mr. Gold but I have to go!”

  I go to shut the door the door in his face when Rogan puts a hand on the door.

  “Whoa. Slow down there. Slamming a door in your neighbor’s face on a first meeting isn’t very neighborly. Where are your manners?”

  “Excuse me?!” I let the door swing open fully and stand with my hands on my hips, not caring that his eyes are dragging up and down my body. “You have the audacity to break into my house and you’re lecturing me on manners?!” My eyes go wide with fury and I huff.

  “Relax.” He breaks into an infuriatingly perfect smile and scoops down to pick Milo up. “I’m just yanking your chain. You looked like you could do with a laugh; clearly I read the situation wrong. I closed the patio by the way, maybe in future you might want to lock your doors at night.”

  “Well… maybe you should keep a better hold on your dog!”

  Milo sits oblivious, cradled in Rogan’s arms. His little pink tongue is wagging out his mouth and he is smiling away, looking up at some birds overheard. He yaps and Rogan laughs at his comic timing.

  “What? Come on. It’s not like I trained him to run in here on purpose.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Just keep an eye on him and keep your dog out my house. I haven’t got time for this, I have to go Mr. Gold, I’m going to be late.”

  “Rogan.” He corrects me. “And enjoy your first day. I’ll come over with a drink later and we can celebrate. Think of it as an apology for bursting in on you in your skimpy underwear…” His eyes drag over my body one last time. “…And as a welcome to the neighborhood!”

  Before I can reject his offer, he’s on his heels and walking back down the path. I finally get a chance to slam the door and stand there for a second in shock before I run upstairs to get dressed. I burst out the house and manage to start up my junk heap of a car at 7:55.

  Lord, help me now.

  2

  Rogan

  Chance can be forgiven for thinking this morning was one big happy accident. I have to hand it to Milo, he played the role of a mischievous puppy perfectly.

  As soon as I’m back at the house I close the door behind me and set Milo down onto the floor. He sits and looks up at me expectantly. He’s only been a member of the Gold household for two weeks, and I’ve already trained him well.

  “Full marks for this morning Milo, I couldn’t have done it better myself if I tried.” I pull a biscuit out of my pocket and throw it through the air.

  Milo jumps up and snaps the biscuit out of the air with laser precision. The tyke swallows it down in one and stands there panting at me all happy. I can’t help but crack a smile. I ruffle his head and tickle his ears.

  I don’t know why the Navy didn’t want Milo. SEAL dogs have to be trained to be the best. A lot of puppies get cut in the process and Milo was one of them. When my old Nav
y buddy Thorn approached me asking if I wanted to take Milo, I jumped at the chance. He’s a little playful for a SEAL dog, but I’ve already trained him to be a perfect rascal. He rolls onto his belly and I tickle him, before saying the command that lets him know playtime is over for the morning.

  “At ease soldier.”

  Milo jumps up onto his feet and runs off into the house somewhere. All I have to do is whistle and he’ll be back by my side waiting for the next order.

  I stand up and look at the clock on the wall. There’s still a few minutes before we have to set off. I head into the kitchen and finish making up lunch for the big lady, I don’t want to risk getting on her wrong side. As I finish making sandwiches my mind can’t help but replay the events that had just taken place back at Chance’s house.

  Since I left the SEALs, I’ve unwittingly transferred my military precision and planning into my quiet domestic life. I’d seen Chance coming to Joe’s house a couple of times over the last few months. Since he died his house has been empty. He mentioned he’d left it to someone in his family. I didn’t know what to expect, Joe kept his family life to himself mostly and he was tight lipped. That’s why I liked drinking beers with the guy so much.

  And then she turned up. The first time I saw her I just knew I had to introduce myself. Turns out she’s shy, cos she’s tried her hardest to avoid me every time she rocked up to the house to visit Joe.

  After seeing the big moving truck yesterday it looks like she’s now moved in permanently. I came up with the genius idea of using Milo to introduce myself when I was out walking him this morning. I unclipped his lead and told him to run around the back of her house. He’s only little, and his vocabulary is still small, but he knows enough now to follow basic orders. Milo carried the order out like a champ, and as an added bonus, she’d left the patio door open.

  I was half hoping she’d see me through the kitchen window while she sipped on her pod coffee. What I got was something infinitely better.