Ward's Independence Day_An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Read online

  And more importantly was what happened for the first time. She smiled.

  And it’s been my mission to keep that smile on her face ever since. And I think I’ve done a pretty good job of it, until today.

  Something’s off, and I’m going to revert to my old playbook and make some cookies.

  And just like the first time my making cookies quickly turns into our making cookies.

  But unlike that first time I don’t feel the father daughter connection. It’s more of a husband and wife preparing for some event, or some guests, or something like that. It seems so strange to think that way, but it’s noticeable.

  The way we work together this time. The way we move through the kitchen. She takes up more space than she did when she was five and the big benefit of that is that it makes maneuvering around in such close quarters much more intimate.

  She leans for something across the counter and for the first time ever I notice myself wanting to look down her shirt when she’s not looking. I don’t know if I’m some kind of pervert or if there’s a deeper meaning here.

  And apparently I’m not the only one. When I open the lower cabinet to dig out the cookie sheets I turn to catch her staring at my ass. She looks away quickly, but I definitely caught her.

  And it wasn’t a look of, “I can’t believe his butt is that close to me.” It was a look of, “Should I put my hands on it or not.” And not in the way where you playfully slap it with a towel.

  She had lust in her eyes. It’s getting hotter in here by the minute and I can only imagine what it’s going to feel like when we turn on the oven.

  And that’s the moment when temperatures really soared.

  In between shaking this and staring that we both realize it’s time to set the oven to preheat. We reach for the knob at the same time, her hand beating mine there by just a second. My hand comes to rest on top of hers and I swear I can feel her pulse beating through the back of her hand.

  And that’s not all. In reaching together my body has slid in behind hers and I feel her butt pressed right against my cock.

  It wasn’t intentional at all, but neither one of us moves either.

  I feel my dick grow hard instantly and if I can feel it I know she can feel it too.

  She turns to look at me and I don’t even think of taking my eyes off hers.

  “How hot…and how long,” she asks.

  “It’s been getting hotter and hotter all day,” I say.

  She doesn’t reply.

  I hear the knob click as she turns it without even looking at it. She’s still locked in on me.

  My other hand comes down on the edge of the stove locking her into position. I feel her ass press back against my rod and I know it’s now or never.

  My hands move quickly to grab her by the hips.

  A moan escapes her lips and the pressure in my pants builds to a level that’s no longer tolerable. I’m in pain.

  Ding dong.

  The doorbell?

  What the…

  I don’t care.

  Her back arches and she cranes her neck so I have a better angle to her face. So I can kiss her.

  Ding dong.

  “I know you’re in there, sweetheart. I need to give you your money.”

  I hear knuckles on glass and recognize the voice as Mrs. Smith’s.

  I’ve never been rude to an older person in my life but I’m tempted to yell at her to go away.

  But I can’t. It’s not who I am.

  I back up a step and immediately miss the feeling of her pressed up against me.

  She taps on my wrist causing me to realize I’ve still got her trapped in.

  I lift my hands and she slides underneath and heads towards the front door.

  Damn, that was close. And not just for me. She wanted it just as much as I do.

  And that changes everything.

  CHAPTER 4

  Finley

  I exchange pleasantries with Mrs. Smith and dodge her question regarding whether I’ll move out tomorrow on my eighteenth birthday.

  She’s a bit older and talks in a loud voice so I know Finn can hear. I just don’t want him to hear my reply, partly because I’m not totally sure yet. Talk about your all time eleventh hour decisions.

  I listen patiently as Mrs. Smith describes some things about gardening when she was young. A smile creeps up from the corner of my lips. I realize for the first time she sees herself in me. That’s why she hired me for the job. I’ve caught her watching out her window a time or two and now it makes complete sense.

  It wasn’t because she was watching to see if I was doing a good job. She was watching because she was remembering. Remembering what it was like to tend to her own roses before arthritis took over. I want to cry right now, but I force the tears back.

  It’s just another reason why this has been the perfect situation for me.

  Finn’s neighborhood is so wonderful. Filled with nice people who look out for one another and truly care about one another. We’ve got people from all walks of life, all nationalities, all races, all heights, all body types…everything you could imagine when it comes to the ways of describing people. But the most important thing we have is not the descriptive qualities of any one person. It’s the descriptive qualities of all of us as one.

  A community.

  Our own little “tribe.”

  The three most important words in real estate aren’t exactly “location, location, location,” unless that location means you’re surrounded by people who care. People who share. People who have your back and you have theirs.

  Why would I ever want to leave this?

  I realize how good I’ve got it. There’s no need to search out in the world and “find myself” because I’ve found a sort of mini-paradise right here.

  I can feel it even more than usual in these sentimental moments like today when we were baking cookies together. I know why he started making them and it’s not helping me. It’s making me miss him and I haven’t even left yet…if I do indeed decide to leave.

  But what will he do without me? I laugh slightly at the idea of him trying to fend for himself in the kitchen. He often jokes about losing the recipe for ice cubes and asking how to boil water. Somehow it’s funny each and every time, and I do know why…because it’s not far from the truth.

  It reminds me of the old Carl’s Junior commercial that had the tagline, “Without us, some guys would starve.”

  Without me would he go hungry?

  Probably not, but I know he wouldn’t eat as healthy.

  I’m sure he’d have a line of women willing and ready to cook for him, but I know that’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want a woman, he wants one woman. He’s mentioned it before when I was younger, but now I realize more and more that that women just might be me.

  It could be me.

  And I think we’ve reached the point where all I have to do is say “yes” and it will be me.

  I go to my room and put my money in the shoebox with the rest.

  It’s a lot of money for a teenager. I’m glad he taught me how to save and not just spend money on phones, and clothes and seven dollar avocado toast like other kids my age. I like avocado toast as much as anyone else, but it’s way more fun, and cost effective, to make it at home so the two of us can share it.

  Just like he’s been sharing his life with me since that one fateful moment…

  CHAPTER 5

  Finn

  Thirteen years ago

  My first day on the job as a firefighter thirteen years ago. I always envisioned myself racing up collapsing stairs and pulling people from smoke infested rooms just in the nick of time to save their lives.

  The reality?

  A bunch of paperwork.

  At least for the first day.

  So much for an exciting start to my job.

  But this was a marathon, not a sprint. And firefighters are already three times as likely to die on the job than the average American…all the while wo
rking forty percent more hours per year. A safe day for everyone, civilians and firefighters, is always a win. This definitely fits under the no news is good news category.

  I turned onto the I-5 onramp and prepare to face the gridlock that is Southern California traffic. It’s a small trade off to pay for living in paradise.

  But to my surprise traffic is moving along really well on my side, but at a standstill on the other side. That’s strange. But it’s not like I have a reverse commute or anything.

  Before I know it I’m flying along at sixty-five miles per hour when suddenly traffic in front of me slows.

  I pump the breaks as my eyes scan the distance to see what’s going on.

  And what my eyes saw then could never be unseen. It was a moment that would change my life forever.

  About a hundred yards in front of me a car went airborne flipping completely before landing upside down.

  I checked the rearview and saw that traffic behind me had also stopped.

  I pulled over and reached under my seat for my knife, pushed open my door and took off down the shoulder of the freeway toward the scene.

  When an automobile flips over you’ve got to get the victims out as soon as possible. Even with today’s safety features built into cars there’s always a chance a car could explode.

  And being a firefighter, and a good citizen, were twenty-four hour a day commitments.

  As I ran up the shoulder I tried to pay attention to restless commuters who might try and take a shortcut and run over me.

  And that’s exactly what almost happened.

  A new Audi pulls out right in front of me but my adrenaline is pumping so hard I just jump right up onto the trunk and continue onto the roof and then the hood and right off the front.

  Once the unsuspecting driver hears the noises on the hood it’s almost a given that he’ll stop again, and he did.

  Assuming it was a man.

  I never thought of looking back to see, nor did I care. My eyes were locked in on the flames coming from car and nothing was going to stop me from reaching it.

  Ten seconds later I was beside the car and could see the driver and his wife in the passenger seat were in bad shape.

  “The back,” he said with a weak voice. “My daughter.”

  I remember looking through the window seeing her there upside down.

  I pulled off my shirt. Smashed the window. And got to work with my special knife to cut the seatbelt.

  I got her out just in time.

  I still remember the heat of the explosion as I lay on top of her on the hot blacktop, trying to shield her from the heat and debris.

  I was awarded a medal three days later from the mayor. They wanted me to do the talk show circuit but I refused. I didn’t want this little girl’s life and her agony to turn into something about me.

  This wasn’t a happy ending. Saving the girl? Yes, absolutely. But suddenly she’s was an orphan in a big, cold world. There’s absolutely nothing happy about that.

  And another reason I refused any kind of interview is because of what I knew I wanted to do.

  There was just something about the way she looked at me when I first saw her. The way her eyes screamed out for help and how I saw something in her I saw in myself.

  I applied to be her guardian. I knew I was too young and not really qualified on paper, but I also knew I had a government job as a firefighter and with that came government connections. Connections that I hadn’t built yet, but I knew the chief would have. And I wasn’t at all timid about asking him.

  I remember the chief asking me if I was, “out of my freaking mind.”

  Hardly.

  He said I was just experiencing a kind of PTSD and that I should reconsider. I wasn’t cut out for this he told me.

  If only he knew.

  Yeah, he was right in some ways, but he was way off base in others. It’s not his fault. He didn’t know everything about my background, nor did I want him to.

  We all have secrets that we carry. It’s just that some are a lot different than others.

  And my secret…the one I’d tried all those years to run from…had eventually come full circle.

  Bringing me right back to her.

  CHAPTER 6

  Finley

  3rd of July

  I put down my cookie and ask.

  “Why did you apply to be my guardian?”

  I don’t know why I’d never asked him this before. I guess I never really cared about the why part. All I cared about was that he did and that he cared for me.

  But with tomorrow, both my personal independence day and America’s Independence Day rapidly approaching, I wanted to know.

  He immediately stops mid bite.

  He puts the cookie back down on the plate and slowly finishes chewing.

  His last swallow is a hard one, like he needs something to drink but the milk sits there without him so much as looking at it, reaching for it, or even acknowledging its existence at this point.

  “I never wanted to tell you this, but I think the time is right,” he says.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. If you don’t want to t—”

  “No. It’s an honest question and one I probably would have asked long before you did. You deserve to know.”

  He takes a deep breath and blows it out.

  “I could tell you it’s because the look I saw in your eyes when I found you that day. And that would be true.”

  He pauses and looks off to the side of the room before his eyes focus back on mine.

  “And I could tell you that it’s because I never thought I’d ever have a family, even though I was still fairly young at the time. And that would be true.”

  He pauses again, but this time he doesn’t look away.

  This man has been an absolute rock for the last thirteen years, but I see his eyes watering just a bit. Maybe it’s just the cookie. I must have made it too dry.

  “But if I’m honest with myself, the reason I wanted to be your guardian, at least at first, is because I knew what laid ahead for you.”

  “You…felt sorry for me?”

  “No. I…I could relate to you.”

  I don’t reply. What is he talking about? He had never been upside down in a burning car just before it exploded.

  “I was an orphan too. A ward of the state. I know what it’s like. My parents died in a fire when I was very young. That’s why I became a firefighter.”

  My mouth opens and I want to say, “I’m so sorry,” but the words don’t come out. Now I feel absolutely terrible inside for asking.

  “I know what foster homes are like. And I don’t want any child to ever have to know what that’s like.”

  I feel the tears roll down my cheeks and I want to just get up and hug him right now but I feel guilty for asking him. Guilty for bringing this all up in the first place. This is supposed to be a happy day. The day before I become an adult. A day before my birthday. And I just ruined it. The tears come harder and I can’t take it anymore.

  I jump out of my chair and run to him. I don’t know if I’m doing it for him or for me or for both of us.

  I throw myself into his arms, curl up in a little ball and feel that protection that only his touch can provide me.

  I just let him hold me there like that until I don’t remember any more.

  I let it all out without a word from him or from me. And once my catharsis is complete my body shuts down and goes to sleep…right there in his arms where I know I belong.

  CHAPTER 7

  Finley

  4th of July

  I wake to the sound of the clock striking midnight.

  My birthday. My independence day.

  I open my eyes and turn back to look at him.

  He’s running his hands through my hair and looking down at me. I don’t know if he even slept at all. He certainly didn’t move. He just held me there and let me feel safe and protected in his arms.

  “Hey,” I muster.


  “Hey,” he says and gives me a gentle smile.