Donut Leave Me: One of the Boys Series, #1

By Teresa Crumpton

Forest Jenson lives the wild life, and the only thing he takes seriously is his career as a pastry chef. At thirty-five, he still spends all of his free time hooking up, hitting the town, and refusing to settle down. Growing up and having a family are the furthest things from his mind until an old one-night-stand crashes the party to inform him he has a daughter. A seven-year-old daughter.

Ella Hartley has never met her father. In fact, for as long as she can remember, her mother has insisted on having Ella all to herself. If not for stories, and her Aunt Piper, Ella might not know a single thing about the man. But that's all about to change, and as Ella faces saying goodbye to one parent, she'll find herself suddenly saying hello to the other.

A reluctant new father braves the difficult tasks of caring for his daughter, making her happy, and keeping the memory of her mother alive all while getting to know her. Determined to succeed, Forest will try anything to create a special bond with Ella that preserves her happy memories and helps her make new ones -- even a weekly trip to the local donut shop.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Crumpton
• Release date: Jun 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9798201823917

Book preview

Chapter 1

Forest

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It’s too damn early for someone to be knocking on my door. I reach for my my phone to see what time it is. If it’s before 10 AM I’m not going to answer. The screen reads 9:40 AM.

Go the fuck away, and let me sleep, I growl, knowing damn well the person pounding on my door can’t hear me.

Are you going to get that? the woman next to me mumbles, and for the life of me, I can’t remember her name.

She’s the first woman I’ve brought back to my place in weeks. I toss the covers off and slip out of bed, grabbing my sweats off the floor and stepping into them as I stumble my way to the front door. There are shuffling sounds coming from my room, and I guess my one night stand is getting dressed. Thank fuck I won’t have to kick her out when I go back to bed.

I glance through the peephole and freeze. The chick knocking on my door looks vaguely familiar, but if this is who I’m thinking she might be, I haven’t seen her in years. Somewhere around eight years I’d guess. Hell, I’ve even moved since then. A few times. I flip the locks and unchain the door before opening it.

It’s fucking bright out, so I have to squint at the woman. Can I help you?

Forest? she asks, wrapping her arms over her chest. Forest Jenson?

I swear this can’t be who she reminds me of. Hallie had curves that wouldn’t quit and was built. This woman is practically skin and bones.

I’m Forest Jenson. Is there something I can do for you? I’m hoping she’ll actually tell me why she’s at my door this time, and I can answer her question and get back in my bed soon. It’s too early for this shit.

Sorry, yes. May I come in? This conversation would be better if you’re sitting down, she continues, but I’m leery of letting her in my apartment. Also… Uh... can I ask you to put on a shirt? This discussion is going to be difficult enough without staring at your chest and tattoos.

I glance down at myself and shrug. The woman has balls, I’ll give her that. The fact that I’m not sure if I know her is only one reason I hesitate. The other reason has to do with the crazy-ass bitch my friend and coworker, Wes, is dating. I don’t want to invite that brand of crazy into my home. But looking at this woman and her frailty makes me think better of leaving her standing on the stoop. I open the door wider and step back, giving her a silent invitation and space to enter.

The chick from my bed walks out of my room. She’s completely rumpled. Walk of shame doesn’t look good on you.

Umm. I’m going to go, she mumbles, grabbing her purse and coverup on the way out.

Sure. I continue to hold the door open for her.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had company, my new guest apologizes. I should go. Maybe this was a bad idea. She bites her bottom lip and turns to head toward the door I’m still holding open.

I hold up my hand in the universal stop signal at her. There is no fucking way I’m letting her leave now. I’m all too curious to hear what she has to say at this point.

My date from last night steps outside and tells me over her shoulder, I left my number next to your phone. Call me.

Sure. She turns and saunters off, and I close the door behind her then face the newcomer. Now what can I do for you?

Your… uh shirt... please? She walks toward the couch.

"Seriously? You come to my place, get me out of my warm bed too damn early, and you want me to put on a shirt?"

Yes. Please?

Fine, I grumble at her. Do you know how to make coffee? I think I’m going to need it. You start the coffee, I’ll get my shirt on. I raise my eyebrow at her.

She nods, places her purse on my coffee table, and points in the direction she assumes my kitchen is with raised eyebrows as if asking for my confirmation.

Wonder if she knows how to make French press coffee? Screw it. I’m not even going to ask.

Yeah, kitchen’s that way, I nod in the direction she’s pointing, and the coffee should be on the counter. I have a Keurig, so make yourself a cup too if you’d like. By the way, you wanna tell me your name?

She stops dead in her tracks and very slowly faces me. You don’t remember my name?

Lady, I barely remember my own some days and, while you look oddly familiar, the person you remind me of I haven’t seen in about eight years. I cross my arms over my chest, still waiting for her answer.

You’re right. Good point. Fuck. This really is going to be harder than I thought. She blows out a long breath. Forget the shirt, and you’re gonna want something stronger than coffee. Can I sit? She motions to my couch.

I nod and move to lean against the doorframe, my arms remaining crossed. Something feels off with this chick, and I’m beginning to think it was a bad idea to let her in.

She lets out another breath as she takes a seat. I had this awesome speech prepared, but that was when I thought you’d recognize me. I realize I look nothing like what I used to. Well, ‘nothing’ isn’t really the right term, but…. Anyway, my name is Hallie Hartley. Hearing her name nearly stops my heart. This frail woman can’t be Hallie. She keeps talking, and I’m pretty damn sure I’ve missed something she’s said. I know we lost contact after that one night, but I’m still best friends with your sister, Piper. In fact, she’s the reason I’m here.

Hallie Hartley. I stare at her, my arms falling to my sides as I push off the doorframe. Now that I know it’s her, I can see more of her features that I remember. But still… she’s so frail. It’s been years. Why did Piper send you to me now? What the hell are you doing, Piper?

Yeah, it’s been seven years and about nine months, to be exact. The night of Nessa’s engagement, Piper drug me out to celebrate with everyone. She rubs the back of her neck, the gesture pulling my attention to her hair. It’s a lot different than it used to be.

It had been long and lush; now it’s in a cute pixie cut and not really something I’d picture a cheerleader having. Is she still a cheerleader? Didn’t Piper say Hallie had joined her squad?

Seven or eight years sounds about right. Not to be rude, but I’m not really understanding why Piper, or you, would want to have this walk down memory lane after all this time. If I remember right, two weeks after our night together you were trying out to be a professional cheerleader with my sister.

I did. And I made the team, in fact. At least for part of a season. But a few months later, I had to quit. She stares down at her hands as she fidgets with them, and there’s this long, awkward pause before she speaks again.

I… uh… couldn't cheer and be pregnant at the same time, she confesses so quietly that I'm not really sure I hear her right.

Pregnant? I choke out, my voice shaky even to my own ears. I cross my arms again as if to protect myself. Shit! Dammit! FUCK! This can NOT be happening! Hallie.... My voice cracks so I clear my throat and try again. What the hell are you here to tell me? Are you telling me that… uh that one night we spent together.... My voice is stronger now. Holy hell! You got pregnant that night?! I roar. "And why the fuck are you just now telling me?" She flinches, and I know my tone sounds harsher than I want it to, but I can't help that. I'm quickly moving from stunned to pissed.

Yes. She speaks the word softly and meekly, which is nothing like I remember Hallie being. Even with all of our precautions, somehow I got pregnant that night. I didn’t say anything to you because by the time I realized it, I was dating someone else. Plus, I wasn’t living anywhere near you. You had a good job, and so did I, and I didn’t want to mess that up for either of us, Hallie admits, glancing at me but unwilling to keep eye contact.

There’s no fucking way I have a child!

"So you figured what? I wouldn’t want to know I had a child? That I wouldn’t support you both? That I wouldn’t try to make us a family? That I’d deprive you, and my child, of a stable home?" I snarl, my temper flaring again as I begin to pace.

"It wasn’t like that Forest, I swear! I knew you’d do anything for your family, but I also knew you loved working with your friends. Piper talked about everything you were doing... daily. And, no she didn’t know I was pregnant with your child. So please don’t be pissed at her," Hallie pleads with tortured eyes.

Knowing that little bit helps calm me slightly, but Piper has to know something now for her to send Hallie to me at this point.

Look, I wanted to raise Isabella, I call her Ella, myself, and yes, it’s been hard. But I thought it would be best for everyone. Did I make a bad decision? Possibly. But your life was here, and mine was not. I’m a cheerleader, and a sports trainer. My life was with the team I was working for, and your life was here... cooking. I’m sorry.

"So what? Now you need my help?" I glower at her as I pace.

Ella and I both need your help, she admits sadly, and I stop dead in my tracks.

Why would they both need my help? I take a moment to look more closely at Hallie and realize I can see her bones, she’s so thin. Even for a cheerleader, she’s too thin. And for the first time, I really notice what’s she’s wearing. It’s August here in Austin, and she’s in long pants and a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt.

"Why Hallie? Why do y’all need my help now?"

Because… she hesitates. "...I’m dying, Forest. And I’d rather our daughter be with you than in a foster home, or even with my family, for that matter," Hallie finishes, finally making eye contact with me and holding it.

Fuck! My throat goes dry, and I swallow hard.

You can say that again. She scratches her hair and all of it shifts slightly. I must stare at her head for longer than I think because Hallie explains,