Page 10 of Knotted their Beauty

“Everyone is someone who could potentially hurt my daughter until I say they aren’t,” he growls, his eyes darkening as he glares at me.

“Is the better option to leave her home alone? I am pretty sure that’s considered child endangerment in the state of California,” I say slowly. My country drawl comes out more when my sass emerges, no matter how much I’ve tried to train it away.

“Oh. I’m not allowed to stay home alone,” Calista says with wide eyes. “There’s no child endanger…whatever happening here.”

Mr. March smirks as his daughter trips over the word, reaching out to touch one of her tight curls. “Endangerment, honey. And you’re right, I’ll take you to work with me if necessary.”

“How long does a background check take?” I ask. “I have nothing to hide, and Calista and I are getting along great.”

“No more girl nannies, Daddy,” she groans. “They don’t like to play with me. Arlo said he'd run around with me.”

While I don’t like to sweat, for room and board, I will indeed run.

“Do you have any CPR training?” Mr. March asks. God, I swear that my asshole puckers in fear and arousal whenever he barks out his questions.

I’m so fucked.

“I don’t, but I don’t have any problems getting it,” I reply. I have access to a computer, I’ll figure it out. Fuck, why is it so hard to get a job?

“Can you do light cooking?”

“I can. Calista and I were discussing the best types of snacks.”

“Daddy, he passed that with flying colors,” she whispers excitedly.

“Hmm,” he grunts. Yeah, I can see where his daughter gets her intensity alright. “I’m going to be later than I planned but it can’t be helped. Give me your drivers license. I’ll get a basic background pulled on you.”

Digging in my pocket, I pull out my wallet that has woefully little money and hand him my identification.

“I don’t drive, but I do have this.”

“You don’t? Huh. You’ll be required to sleep at the apartment. I have a third bedroom, and you’ll have to share the bathroom with Calista. Will that be a problem?”

Since I’m homeless… “No. I read through the listing, I can accommodate that.”

“Really? You don’t have anything better to do than be available around the clock for us? You’re a twenty-three year old omega. This isn’t going to be great for your social life.”

My identification has my designation on it, so it’s no surprise he clocked that so quickly. He also looks like some kind of cop, which means he has the means to dig into my past. However, I have very little to hide. I may as well put my cards on the table.

“I have no social life,” I reply. “My entire life fits into this bag at my feet. If you need me around the clock, I’m yours.”

I said too much. I didn’t mean to say it like that. Shit! Fuck! God, why am I like this?

Mr. March’s dark hazel eyes glance at the bag and then gazes at me. I know what he’s going to see. A guy who is way too agreeable wearing a nice button down shirt and pants, clothes I wore to my job before I was fired. I don’t have any options outside of a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to play with Calista. I hope Mr. March has a washer and dryer in this apartment, or I’ll be racing to the basement to do a tiny load every day.

He doesn’t say a word as he stands and leaves the room with my license, essentially forcing me to wait while he runs my information.

“Don’t you have a family that’ll miss you?” Calista asks.

Oh, sweet girl, that’s such a loaded question. “Ah, not really. I’m between housing at the moment. My last roommates weren’t very nice people,” I finally answer. “It wasn’t safe for me to be there. I hate to see a puzzle go unfinished, don’t you? Let’s see if we can work on it while your dad runs his reports.”

Calista gives me a long look before she huffs out a sigh and sorts through the puzzle pieces she has left to place. Thank god for that, because something tells me if she wasn’t willing to drop it, she wouldn’t have.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. March strides out of the room he was in and returns to the living room.

“You passed.” Hmm. Color me unsurprised. “Here is a key to the apartment and the card key to get into the building. Cali eats dinner at five, and I have a meal already prepped in the fridge. Put it in the oven at three-fifty for forty minutes. It’s homemade Mac and cheese. You’re welcome to eat with her. In fact, she hates to eat alone. If you decide to go to the park, I don’t have a problem with that. Shoot me a text message to tell me.”

I have a phone from the county, and I don’t have any issues with what he just rattled off.