Loving Mr. Creep

By Karen Ward

As a child, Julie’s face was horrifically scarred in an accident but she fought through the teasing and humiliation receiving her Master’s Degree. Then her dream job is ripped from her grasp when Williams Advertising is swallowed up by Taylor Industries and she is laid off. Unable to find another position because of her appearance she is forced to work for her brother, Tommy, cleaning swimming pools.
When her brother assigns Taylor Industries to her as a client, she begs him to spare her the humiliation of cleaning Mr. Creep’s pools. On her very first visit her heart is broken when his twin daughters begin calling her Mama because she knows she will never be anyone’s Mama.
Then when Julie is injured trying to save his twins from being kidnapped, Jarod vows to make her life better. He tries his best to protect her even though she doesn’t want to be protected, especially by Mr. Creep. Will Jarod and Julie be able to get past their individual pain to find each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Ward
• Release date: Jul 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311707567

Karen Ward

Karen Ward is the pen name of Glenda Hays. Glenda grew up in Texas but traveled the United States as a healthcare consultant for many years. She has over twenty years in the healthcare industry and has spent many hours on airplanes reading the stories of her favorite Romance writers.A few years ago she found herself one of the millions of Americans on the unemployment rolls and after a few months began to put some of her own stories down on paper. She loves the challenge of writing and plans to spend every spare moment sharing her love of her heroes and heroines with the world.Glenda is divorced with two grown children and three grandchildren. She lives in a small town in the DFW Metroplex.

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Loving Mr. Creep

KAREN WARD

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 Glenda Hays

Writing as Karen Ward

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used, transmitted, or reproduced in any manner, electronic or otherwise without prior written permission from the copyright holder except in cases where permitted by law.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover images from COVERS BY RAMONA

Edited by Cynthia Moore Stouff

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

About The Author

PROLOGUE

My skin begins to tingle and I feel warmth flowing through my body as my breathing gets shallow and fast. Her unique fragrance fills my nostrils. I feel her presence even before I see her. She has always affected me this way. Indescribable joy expands my heart and I lift my eyes from my computer monitor to look for her ... my beautiful Andrea ... my beloved wife ... there ... standing in the door of my study. My heart immediately starts pounding with excitement as I take in her beauty. Her long, pale blonde hair is falling in waves around her shoulders and her sky blue eyes are sparkling with mischief. She is so beautiful she takes my breath away. She looks so young, so healthy, and so happy ... not at all like the last time I saw her.

A warm smile crosses her face as she whispers, "Breathe Jarod, breathe."

My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it could fly right out of my chest and I feel a slow smile slide across my face. I take a deep breath and slowly release it as I stare at her, hardly believing my eyes. I am dizzy with joy. It's been so long ... so very long since I have seen her.

I push my chair back from the desk and rise to my feet never taking my eyes off of her precious face. I quickly move around the desk toward her. Oh Andrea, you're here! You are really here! My voice is hoarse, choked by tears. My legs are trembling and feel the consistency of jello as I walk across the room toward her.

I stop in front of her and gaze deeply into her beautiful blue eyes. I raise my shaking hand to stroke her beloved face ... to feel her silky skin. She immediately moves back out of my reach so I let my hand drop to my side as tentacles of disappointment slither through me.

Why, Andrea? Why did you leave me? My voice cracks as I choke out the words.

Her eyes never leaving my face she calmly responds, "You know why Jarod."

I shake my head in denial. No, no, I don't understand why. I love you, Andrea. I need you so much. Please, please come back to me.

Her eyes fill with sadness as she shakes her head, "You know I can't do that, Jarod. It's impossible. I love you, too. I will always love you. She pauses, smiles again then continues, I have come to tell you ... it's time, Jarod ... time for you to let me go. It's been over two years and our girls need you. They need all of you, Jarod, all of your time, all of your love."

I look guiltily at her as a feeling of desperation wraps itself tightly around my heart squeezing until I think it's going to burst. I again shake my head. No, I ... I can't ... I can't let you go. I will go crazy without you, Andrea. I promise I'll make more time for the girls but I just can't let you go. Please ... please don't ask that of me.

"Yes, Jarod, you must let me go. Please, open your heart to them. Our girls need you. I can't be here to love them, to hold them, to kiss away their tears, so it will be up to you. Please Jarod you must do this for me."

I am shaken by her words. As I stare into her beautiful eyes, she begins to fade away. I quickly reach up my hand to touch her face but she is ... gone. Noooooooo!! I scream.

I jerk awake sitting straight up in bed. My heart is pounding and sweat trickles down my spine. I am gasping for breath and tears are streaming down my face. Andrea, oh Andrea, I miss you so much. Why? Dear God, why? Why did You take her from me so soon? How am I supposed to go on? How am I supposed to raise two baby girls without her? I lie back against the pillows and let my grief consume me once again.

A long time later I look over at the clock on my bedside table. It's almost five so I might as well get up. I rise from the bed and after a trip to the bathroom I walk down the hall into the nursery where I gaze across the room at my two beautiful twin baby girls, Meredith and Margaret. My heart expands with love and my eyes fill with tears. They are so precious and I have neglected them these last two years. I have no excuse ... I have just been so overwhelmed by my grief at the loss of their mother. Andrea is right, they do need me. I vow to try harder.

Mr. Taylor? Startled, I turn to look at the girls' nanny standing in the door to the nursery. I sigh with relief.

Mrs. Wilson, I couldn't sleep and I wanted to make sure they are all right.

Of course, can I get you anything? she asks, looking puzzled. I certainly understand her confusion because this is not my usual behavior.

No, I just want to spend some time with them. Thanks. She looks at me curiously then turns and leaves the room. I walk over to the crib where they both lay sleeping side by side. Long pale lashes fan out over chubby little cheeks. Precious little mouths pucker as if they are sucking a bottle. Tiny fingers curl around identical stuffed teddy bears. These two precious babies are my daughters, my own flesh and blood, and I can't tell them apart. I am so ashamed.

I lean over the side of the crib and gently run my fingers through the pale blonde curls of one tiny head and then the other as tears of shame and regret slide silently down my face. They look so much like their mother. They are all that I have left of her, of our shared love.

After watching the girls sleep for a long time and thinking about how badly I have neglected them, I change into my Speedo and head down to the pool. Exercise, that's another thing I have neglected for the past two years. I haven't gained any weight because I haven't been eating either. I need to start eating better and get back into a regular workout routine too. I won't be much help to the girls if I have a heart attack before I turn forty.

As I swim laps, pushing myself hard, I think back over the past two years. I have really just been muddling my way through life, not living, just trying to survive. Andrea and I were so happy, so much in love. The day the girls were born was one of the happiest days of my life but then, before we even took them home from the hospital, Andrea had what the doctors called a stroke that left her partially paralyzed. Only three months later she was gone. Her death nearly destroyed me.

Well, I guess it really did destroy me. I'm certainly not the same man I was two years ago. I am more of a shell of that man ... no substance ... no emotion ...no heart... only rage. I have neglected all of our friends, our families, our girls.

The only thing that I haven't neglected, that hasn't suffered has been my business, Taylor Industries, Inc. It has grown by leaps and bounds because I put all of my energies into seeing it grow. I have been ruthless and some would say cruel, buying up small failing companies and turning them around or stripping them of their assets and selling off the remaining parts. I have accumulated more money than I will ever spend and it just keeps rolling in. Now, thanks to a dependable group of trusted individuals that know how to make things happen I can slack off ... spend more time with the girls ... learn how to be a Daddy.

After my swim I shower quickly and dress in cutoff jean shorts and a loose sleeveless t-shirt. It crosses my mind that the t-shirt wasn't loose the last time I wore it. In fact, it was stretched taunt across my chest and shoulders. I guess my body has deteriorated more than I realized. I suppose I need to include weight lifting in my exercise routine too.

I head to the kitchen where I find Mrs. Wilson feeding the girls oatmeal. Angela Wilson is a gentle older woman, sixtyish with warm brown eyes. She has been the girls' nanny since we brought them home from the hospital and, to be truthful, is the only parent they know.

My cook and housekeeper, Opal Smith, another sixty something gentle woman, observes my attire, hides her surprised expression, and asks,

Good morning Mr. Taylor, what can I get you for breakfast this morning? I'm sure she is quite confused because I am wearing shorts instead of my usual business suit. Normally I would have already left for the office without a thought for breakfast or for the girls.

Nothing right now Mrs. Smith, thank you. I smile when I see the girls with oatmeal smeared all over their cherubic faces and their toothy grins. I ask Mrs. Wilson, Would you mind if I try that?

Mrs. Wilson looks up at me with shock plainly showing on her face. She glances at Mrs. Smith, quickly hiding her reaction and replies, No ... no, of course not, Mr. Taylor. Here you go. She rises from the chair facing the high chairs and hands me the tray with two bowls of oatmeal. I look at the bowls a little intimidated by the task. Surely it can't be that hard.

Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Taylor? she asks.

No, not yet, thanks. I want to feed the girls first. I pause then ask, Ummm, Mrs. Wilson, which one is which? I feel my face heating with embarrassment because I can't tell my own twin daughters apart.

Smiling with understanding, she answers, Maggie is on your left, Merrie on the right.

Thanks. I frown as I turn back toward the girls. Maggie and Merrie, I'm not sure I like the nicknames. I'll have to think about that. I'm really not in a position at the moment to say anything since I really haven't been a part of the girls' lives for the entirety of their existence.

I pick up the spoon, scoop a small bite of oatmeal into it and hold it out toward Margaret. Her chubby little hand reaches for the spoon and slaps at it, flinging oatmeal onto the floor. Then she bursts into a fit of giggles, proud of her accomplishment. Meredith is banging her hands on the highchair tray and squealing with delight. I'm sure their glee is at my lack of expertise.

I can feel the warmth of embarrassment again spread up my neck and across my face. I take a deep breath and try again. I tell myself, I can do this. I ... can ... do ... this!

I fill the spoon with a small bite of oatmeal and this time offer it to Meredith. When I see her little hand rise to slap at the spoon I gently grab it with my other hand, place it back on the high chair tray, and put the spoon against her lips. She opens her mouth and takes the oatmeal.

Just as I am feeling proud of my accomplishment she spits the oatmeal in my face bursting into fits of giggles at my shocked expression. Her sister joins in the laughter.

I wipe the oatmeal off my face and glance up at Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Smith. Both of them are studiously trying to act like they are ignoring me but I see the mirth dancing in their eyes.

Damn! Surely I can manage to get my two little imps to eat oatmeal. After all, I am the CEO of a major holding company, people jump to attend to my slightest need. I look back at my girls who are still giggling, grit my teeth and load the spoon with more oatmeal. I am determined to see this through.

After a few more false starts I manage to get them to eat what is left in their bowls. By the time the girls have finished their oatmeal, it is all over the floor, them, and me.

Laughing and feeling proud of my accomplishment, I ask Mrs. Wilson, What's next?

Smiling, Mrs. Wilson replies, I usually give them their baths now. Would you like to help with that too?

I feel a rush of panic flow over me. Baths? I shake my head. Nervously I answer, Maybe I better let you handle that this time. What time do they normally get up from their afternoon nap? I want to spend some time with them this afternoon.

Looking very pleased Mrs. Wilson replies, They are usually up by around four.

Great, I'll make sure to be back from the office by then. Thank you Mrs. Wilson. Grinning and feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time, I head to my room where I shower again and change into a navy blue suit with a white shirt and burgundy tie then head to the corporate headquarters of Taylor Industries in downtown Dallas.

As I drive toward downtown on the Dallas North Tollway, I still have a goofy grin on my face and I laugh out loud when I remember my baby girls' antics during breakfast. I feel lighter than I have in two very long years.

CHAPTER 1

Two weeks later

Damn! Damn! Double Damn! I cannot believe Tommy is going to make me handle that creep's pools, TWO of them, one at his fancy office in downtown Dallas AND another one at his ritzy home in Willow Bend. Mr. Creep is absolutely the last person in Dallas whose pool I want to clean. After all, he is the reason I am cleaning pools instead of sitting behind what use to be my desk in my very nice office at Williams Advertising writing copy for radio commercials.

I look imploringly at my brother, Please Tommy. Don't make me do this. You know I can't stand that man. Can't you send somebody else?

Tommy looks sternly at me, Julie, quit acting like a spoiled brat! They specifically requested you and I am not going to risk losing such a lucrative account just because you don't like the man. Yes, he is the asshole that cost you your job at Williams but you aren't going to be dealing with him. I doubt very seriously that he personally manages the pool service. He's a gazillionaire for God's sake. Now do it!

I shake my head in disgust and begin gathering the supplies I need to restock my company truck. Damn Tommy! I take a deep breath and blow it out trying to gain control of my emotions. I guess I really should quit bellyaching and be grateful to have this job. Although as my brother, Tommy really didn't have a choice but to hire me. None the less, if not for him I would be living out of my car since I was laid off from the advertising agency. I guess I owe him this much.

Oh, I tried to get another job in advertising but once any potential employer gets a look at me, they write me off quickly. I don't portray the image they want at their company. It's always been like that. No one wants anything to do with me, not since the accident when I was twelve that destroyed half my face.

Tears cloud my eyes as memories of the worst day of my life flood my mind. On that one horrible day a few short seconds changed my life forever. Mom and I were headed to the mall to buy a party dress for the end of year dance at school. I was going with the cutest boy in sixth grade and I was so excited. I'll never forget that day because I'm reminded every time I look in the mirror.

It was raining and the roads were slick. Mom lost control of the car and it slid sideways right into the back of a pickup pulling a trailer carrying a load of rebar. A piece of the rebar flew up and crashed through the passenger side window right into my face. I can still hear the glass shattering, feel the pain as multiple shards of glass from the window sliced into my face and arm and then the rebar caught the side of my face just above my jaw knocking me blessedly unconscious. It pushed me sideways in the seat then it took skin, muscle and everything else pushing it up to the corner of my eye. It literally skinned the whole right side of my face.

The doctors told my parents I was lucky to be alive ... lucky the rebar didn't push through my skull killing me, but I sometimes think I would have been better off if I had died that day. Ever since, people turn away from me because they can't stand to look at my grotesque face. It has been emotionally devastating.

The job at the advertising agency was a true blessing at the time. One of my professors at Southern Methodist University knew the owner of Williams Advertising Agency and convinced him of my talent and skill. The job was perfect for me because I didn't have to deal with the clients. All I had to do was develop ideas and write copy for radio commercials.

Then the world's biggest creep, one Jarod Taylor, bought the company and consolidated it into his larger advertising agency. Nearly everyone at Williams, including me was laid off. That was almost two years ago now. While I'm not getting rich working for my brother, at least I have a roof over my head and food on my table.

I spend most of the day tending to all of my other accounts but now the time has come. A shiver of disgust slides down my spine, Jarod Taylor, YUCK! Well, I might as well get this over with. Procrastinating is not going to change the fact that I have to clean Mr. Creep's pools. I climb back into the bright red company truck with Tommy's Pool Service written in white block letters on the side and head toward Willow Bend, an exclusive residential area north of Dallas in the suburb of Plano.

As I drive I remind myself, this job does have its perks. I get to wear cut off jeans and t-shirts with the company logo and I don't have to worry about makeup or hair. I usually just pull my thick mane of chestnut hair back into a pony tail.

As I get closer to Willow Bend I feel my stomach twisting into tight knots and a trickle of sweat slides down my back. It is my usual reaction when I know I have to introduce myself to new people. I dread the expressions on their faces. Even after all these years it still hurts so much when they turn away. It is even worse when their eyes fill with pity. Either way, I absolutely hate it.

As a new client of the pool service, I have to knock on the front door and introduce myself to whomever answers and explain why I am at their home and what I will be doing in their backyard so I don't get shot or arrested for trespassing. I pray it is not Mr. Creep that answers the door. I'm not sure I could hold my tongue.

The house is surrounded by a tall white stone fence but the entry gate is standing open. I pull into the wide circular drive of the huge two story home which is also made of white stone. Elegant is the term that comes to mind to describe the huge structure.

Nervously, I climb down out of the truck and take a deep calming breath as I straighten my t-shirt and shorts. Damn, I hate this. If I didn't REALLY need this job, I would just leave. Damn Tommy anyway! My heart is pounding with dread as I slowly make my way to the front door and ring the bell. Please God, don't let it be HIM, Mr. Creep that answers. I turn my body sideways with my good side toward the door. I don't want to scare the person that answers too badly, at least not until I am able to state my business.

The door is answered by a kindly looking older woman who asks, May I help you?

Nervously I explain, Hello, my name is Julie King. I am with Tommy's Pool Service and I am here to clean your pool.

Smiling the woman extends her hand and replies, Hello Julie, I'm Opal Smith, the housekeeper. Mr. Lawrence called to tell me someone from your company would be coming today. Would you like to come in?

I have to turn my face toward her to grasp her hand. I carefully avoid looking in her eyes. Uh, no ma'am, thank you. If you could just direct me to the pool, I'll get started.

"Of course, the pool is in the back. You can pull your truck around by the garage. You'll see the gate. Let me know if you need anything.

Reviews for Loving Mr. Creep

[mum26 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Hard to read, the wording doesn't always flow. The last few chapters are not quite right for the rest of the book, it turned into an erotic story ?