A Very Daddy Christmas (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Chapter 1

1

Dakota

A Few Days Earlier

C haos has a name.

Tonight, it’s me.

Sometimes it feels like I’m doing ten jobs at once, and none of them particularly well.

Juggling freelance bartending, CPR classes, and trying to be a good single mom to my prodigy princess—it’s exhausting.

And now, I can’t even find the right room for the CPR training I’m supposed to lead because, apparently, some evil genius designed this community center and pulled a fast one with a last-minute room change.

These room numbers are as random as the socks in my insane laundry pile.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

Just then, a young guy steps out of a door up ahead, looking semi-competent. Jackpot. I wave him over, pulling my best “lost lady in distress” face.

“Room 23?” I ask, holding onto the last shred of my patience.

He blinks, like I just asked him for the square root of Pi. “Uh… no idea. This is NA,” he says, nodding at the door behind him.

“It’s for the Single Dads Club,” I add, hoping that’ll jog something.

Still blank.

“Thank you anyway.”

With a sigh, I call Chelsea. She picks up right away, and I can already hear Maisie cheering in the background—probably glued to some dance show she’s obsessed with.

“Hey, Chels,” I say, taking a deep breath. “All good over there?”

Chelsea laughs, that easy laugh that instantly makes me feel a little less like a walking disaster. “Girl, please. It’s not my first rodeo. Besides, remember what I do for a living?”

“Yah, yah, daycare queen,” I reply, rolling my eyes with a grin.

Chelsea and I go way back. She’s the kind of best friend who’ll laugh at my chaos but never judge.

“Girl, I’m straight-up lost in a web of hallways. Room 23? Save me!”

“No stress babe! Nothing you can’t handle,” she teases, clearly entertained. “Besides, a room full of single dads? You’re about to have the time of your life. You can thank me later with my Christmas gift.”

“Chelsea, I feel like you’ve sent me to The Hunger Games. Give me a lifeline here!”

She snorts. “Technically, that’s 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire,' but I’ll let it slide. I thought you were booked in Room 32? Did they move you?”

“Yes! Big-ass sign downstairs says the Single Dads Club is in Room 23 tonight, but it didn’t say a damn thing about the floor. This place is straight-up infuriating.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” she says, sighing. “But look for Eric. He’s been with the club longer than me, so he might know where the hell they’ve hidden this room.”

“No sign of him,” I say, glancing at my watch again. “And I’m officially late. Hot Mess Express, full steam ahead.”

Chelsea chuckles. “Room 23 should be on the second floor, I think,” she says, then shifts into mom-mode: “Maisie, honey, stop flipping the channels. I’ll be there in a sec.”

“I want Bluey!” my daughter whines in the background, and I can’t help but smile.

“She probably pressed the wrong button on the remote, looking for the sound,” I say. “She’s still getting the hang of that thing.”

“Right, so… where were we? Room 23. Try the second floor,” Chelsea replies.

“All right, I will. Can you just text Eric in the meantime? I didn’t save his number.”

“Sure thing.”

I hang up and speed-walk toward the staircase at the end of the hallway. This was supposed to be easy: I go in, meet some folks, teach them how to safely and effectively perform CPR on their children, probably prevent a few potential tragedies, get my cash in hand—and support some single dads in their journey. I listen to how they’re struggling. I listen to the advice that the group’s veteran single dads give out, and then I leave with a tad more wisdom than I had walking in. Finally, I go home and spend the rest of my evening with Maisie.

I fly up the stairs and stop in front of the third door to my left, then straighten my jacket so I don’t look like I just fell off a turnip truck. Then, I knock and let myself in before anybody can answer.

What I walk into is not what I was expecting.

The room is full of men, which makes sense for a Single Dads Club, but they’re unexpectedly easy on the eyes. Or maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve been around this much testosterone that everything feels a bit surreal.

“Oh,” I say, taken slightly off guard. “Hi.”

There are about twenty guys in the room, most somewhere north of twenty-five and dressed casually. Some are good-looking, some blend into the background… and then there’s them.

Three of them, all staring right at me.

I blink, doing a double take because they’re identical.

Triplets!!

“Can I help you, miss?” one of them asks, stepping out of the circle of chairs.

“Room 23?” I manage, only half-focused, my gaze drifting back to the trio. They’re definitely real, definitely identical, and, well… definitely striking. Tall, with silvery blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and strong frames that even their casual T-shirts can’t disguise. And their eyes—one with bright green, one with steel gray, and the third with this unusual golden green.

It’s like they’ve just stepped off a magazine cover, and here I am, barely remembering my own name, let alone what I’m supposed to be doing here.

“Yes, this is Room 23,” the green-eyed one says, looking me over with a slow, careful gaze. “Are you here looking for a daddy?”

The way he says it makes my heart stutter in my chest.

Get it together, Dakota, I tell myself.

“I’m Dakota,” I say, mustering a bit of authority. “I’m here to teach you all how to perform child CPR.”

The gray-eyed triplet raises a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Congratulations, Dakota. You made it. Half an hour late, but you made it.”

“Right, this place isn’t exactly easy to navigate,” I reply with a sliver of snark.

The three of them all smile, apparently amused by my feisty response.

“I’m glad you found us,” the triplet in the middle says. “I’m Cole, by the way. Don’t mind my brother. He’s just pulling your leg. Anyway, I’m subbing for Eric in running this group tonight. Better late than never.”

“Right,” I say with a smile.

Cole smiles and motions for me to come in. I close the door and carefully approach the wide circle with a shy smile while he introduces me. “Fellas, Dakota here is a trained and certified CPR instructor. She’s going to talk to us about different scenarios involving our children and ways to help them until the paramedics arrive or, in some instances, even save them.”

“Welcome, Dakota,” one of the guys says, giving me a soft nod.

I mirror his gesture.

My eyes are briefly drawn back to the triplets.

They’re older, late-to-mid-thirties, from what I can tell.

The one who asked if I was looking for a daddy looks like he could do a dozen deep squats with me on his back. He’s a mountain of a man. The gray-eyed one strikes me as the dark and mysterious type. And there’s the third one—I’ve rarely found a man bun attractive, but this guy rocks it.

The way they’re looking at me makes my spine tingle.

Self-consciousness threatens to ruin my train of thought.

“So, Dakota Ellis, at your service. Thanks for having me,” I pause and take a deep breath. “To begin with, I’m not a paramedic, nor am I a healthcare professional.”

“But you came here to teach us child CPR?” the first of the triplets mutters, giving me a suspicious look before he glances back at Cole.

“I got my CPR training at one of the American Heart Association offices here in the city. Once that was done and I had my basic certification, I decided I wanted to do even more, so I nailed my CPR instructor certification course a few months later. I am fully accredited and, at the risk of repeating myself, certified to teach you fine gentlemen how to keep your children alive.”

The words hit deep.

I get the silence I need to make my case and capture their full attention while Cole holds back a smile.

“We’re all single parents here. I’m raising my daughter on my own, and I know how scary it can be to watch your child in any state of distress, and not have a clue as to how to save them,” I continue. “I now live every day with a lighter heart, knowing that I have enough training and knowledge to keep my baby safe and alive until she’s given the proper, life-saving medical care she needs. And I want the same for you.”

The men respond with a subtle, collective nod.

I feel as though I’m close to earning their trust and undivided attention. But the hot triplets are watching me a little too intently, their gazes moving up and down my figure, and it has me quite flustered. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so taken back by a man’s attention, let alone three.

Cole motions to an empty chair. It’s disturbingly close to the triplets, but I take it. I sit down and look around, casting an awkward smile here and there.

“I’m Reed,” the self-declared daddy says. “These are my brothers, Maddox…” He points to the broody one. “And Archer.” The man bun. All right, now I have names to go with their gorgeous faces.

“Pleased to meet everyone,” I tell the triplets.

Reed smirks, a sparkle in his eye. “Pleasure’s all ours. We’re big on the basics—like how to stop a kid from sticking stuff in their nose. But if you’ve got some secret CPR hacks for us, we’re all ears.”

Oh, Chelsea will never believe this.

They’re gorgeous and funny.

I’m in serious trouble.

“So, what does the instructor certification entail, exactly?” Archer asks. “I mean, I get the CPR training. It’s the basic stuff—”

“Adapted to the anatomy of a child,” I reply. “Which is different from that of an adult. They’re infinitely more fragile and prone to severe CPR-related injuries. If we don’t know what we’re doing, we could end up causing more harm than good, or worse.”

“And you’re a certified instructor,” Reed says.

“Pretty sure that’s why the Single Dads Club organizers called me to come here tonight. Would you rather have some regular Joe from the deli down the road do this?”

Reed chuckles softly. “I’m just curious about what they teach you as an instructor. Like, what is the certificate actually for? It’s still CPR, child or adult… sure, the technique varies a bit, but—”

“The instructor certification course comes with advanced CPR training, which teaches a lot more than the basics, obviously. There are also teaching methodologies. They assess my ability to perform and teach CPR techniques because I could be really good at CPR myself but absolutely suck as a trainer. And they evaluated my skills before they gave me the certificate. Is that a clear enough explanation for you?”

He gives me a long and curious look, a glimmer of amusement lingering in his deep green eyes. “Crystal clear, Dakota.”

“Great, so we can move on from my qualifications and learn a few important things about saving our children. Mind you, this is the first of six sessions that I’ll be doing here at the club. This is the introductory part, and I’ll bring dummies and other relevant gear with me for our next session.” I pause and look at the triplets with confusion. “Hold on, all three of you are single dads?”

Archer smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes my skin feel tighter all over. It’s getting hot in here. “We’re raising a boy together. Trevor.”

I concede with a nod and shift my focus back to the entire group. “From the moment they’re born, our children depend on us for pretty much everything. Of all the animals on this planet, human children are some of the most vulnerable compared to other cubs, chicks, etc. Granted, human babies are also more resilient than we credit them, but they are exceptionally fragile as their brain and bones continue to develop long after birth.”

“My mom used to say that the first child is the scariest experience,” Cole says with a warm smile. “And by the second child, you already know what you’re doing. Is that right, Dakota?”

“I wouldn’t know; I’m still trying to figure out how to keep my first one alive,” I chuckle nervously. Reed whips up a charming smile and throws it my way.

“Our children are constantly exposed to danger, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. We can’t protect them from everything, again, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. But learning how to perform CPR when our child loses their ability to breathe on their own… well, that’s something we can and absolutely should do.”

I go on to explain the most common issues, the various circumstances leading to an unconscious child who’s not breathing, about the many ways in which we can help them regain consciousness before performing CPR techniques.

The guys listen carefully; a few of them even take notes on their phones, but I focus on Reed, Maddox, and Archer the most—mainly because they’re so easy on the eyes, and I find a strange sense of comfort in their presence.

Cole is equally fascinated and even asks me a couple of questions before I finish my initial presentation. But then the guys get curious, too, and I find myself in the middle of a surprisingly constructive conversation.

“I will show you on a special dummy everything you need to know about the amount of pressure to apply in chest compressions,” I tell them at one point. “Be advised, there will always be a risk of cracked or broken ribs in this situation, but it’s better to have a broken rib than to die altogether. That, in my experience, was the hardest pill to swallow.”

“What about you, Dakota?” Archer asks. “Did you ever have to perform CPR on a child?”

I nod slowly, remembering that moment as though it had just happened. “Yeah. My best friend, Chelsea, and I were at the pool downstairs one day. My daughter, Maisie, and a couple of other kids from her daycare were with us. Luckily, I had just completed my CPR training,” I say. “One of the other kids slipped and fell into the water before her mother could reach her. The poor woman was paralyzed; she didn’t know what to do. Chelsea got the girl out of the water, and I went through the motions. I tried the simplest methods first, but in the end, I had to apply chest compressions, and I gave her mouth-to-mouth.”

“Did the girl make it?” Reed asks, his brow furrowed with sympathetic concern.

“Yes. And she made a full recovery. But it was scary as hell.”

Maddox scoffs. “It’s always going to be scary. I guess it’s all about getting past the fear and doing something about it.”

“Provided we have the appropriate knowledge,” I add, preparing to leave. “So, I guess I’ll see you all next Friday. Thank you so much for your patience, and again… so sorry for being late.”

“My best friend and, yes, my babysitter, Chelsea, started working with this community center fairly recently, but she has a nice business organizing home daycare for single parents in the neighborhood.”

“That’s good. It means you have a solid support system,” Cole replies.

“More or less,” I sigh.

Cole, however, seems to have something else in mind. “No, wait, Dakota. Hold on. I was just thinking… This might be a single dad’s club, but I think we could still benefit from your experiences. Would you mind sticking around for a few minutes longer?”

“Um…” I pause and look around. Honestly, I was not that eager to leave, not with Reed, Maddox, and Archer giving me those curious, hungry looks. If anything, my interest is piqued, and then some. “Okay. I guess I could take a seat and be part of the conversation. We’re all single parents, right?”

Cole smiles and pulls up an empty chair for me. It happens to be right next to the triplets. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees in what is supposed to be a friendly approach. “Tell us, what’s the biggest issue you’re facing as a single parent these days, Dakota?”

“Whoa, don’t start with me,” I nervously chuckle. “I just wrapped up thirty minutes’ worth of CPR training. Give the others a chance to speak. I’ll chime in when I can.”

The guys all exchange glances, and Cole ultimately agrees and moves the focus over to the triplets. “Tell us about your situation, then, fellas. It’s your first meeting, right?”

“It is, yes,” Archer says, constantly stealing glances at me.

Silence follows, prompting Cole to smile again. “You’re supposed to… you know, tell us a little something about yourselves.”

“We’re triplets,” Archer replies.

“No shit,” I mutter, which elicits a wave of giggles. The anxiousness I felt earlier begins to fade.

“We’re thirty-nine,” Archer adds while Maddox and Reed eye me with intention. What their intention is, I’m not sure, but there is definitely something sizzling beneath the surface that makes my face burn. “About six months ago, our best friend and his wife died in a car crash.”

At that, the humorous anecdotes I was stockpiling in my head for this conversation go out the window.

“With no other immediate family, their son, Trevor, would’ve gone into the foster care system. We’re his godfathers,” Archer continues, “and so, we decided to step up and give the kid something as close to a real family as possible.”

“It’s been working out for the most part,” Reed adds, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. “But Trevor has his moments.”

“Moments?” Cole asks.

“He tends to be closed off. He misses his parents, and we’re not quite sure how to help him cope,” Reed says. “He’s a good kid, but his grades have dropped, and he’s got trouble focusing. At home, he spends most of his time in his room, playing video games.”

“Tell them about the fight,” Maddox interjects.

Reed nods once. “Yeah. He got into a fight at school last Thursday. Nothing too serious, but enough to bring the three of us into the principal’s office. It was a tough situation to handle.”

“Why, were you never in the principal's office when you were kids?” one of the other single dads asks with a chuckle.

“No,” Reed replies, sounding almost offended.

“Goody two-shoes,” I mutter.

Archer sets his sights on me once more. “I take it that you were a star in detention, Dakota?”

“I threaded a fine line,” I smirk.

“We have ways of punishing bad girls in our house,” Archer says.

That gets some whistles and gasps out of the others. In the meantime, I’m starting to think this is a room in purgatory, and hell’s about to come up and swallow us all because the temperature is spiking.

“Are there any girls in your house?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Reed holds back a laugh. Maddox’s eyes twinkle with amusement. But Archer… oh, I struck a chord, and he’s about to make me regret it. Cole watches the entire exchange with the kind of exhilaration that warrants a bowl of popcorn and a beer hat.

“I take it you’re interested,” Archer says.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You look interested.”

“Guys, come on, let’s keep it civil,” Cole intervenes, downright flustered.

I’m speechless but not offended. More like… curious. Is this what a year of celibacy does to a woman? How the hell do I reign it in?

Archer tilts his head to the side, and I lose myself in the deep, emerald-gold pools of his eyes. “It was a terrible joke, Dakota. I apologize.”

“It’s cool,” I mumble.

“So, let’s get back to Trevor. You said you’ve been having some trouble,” Cole says. “Disciplinary issues.”

“We’re trying to be there for him,” Reed replies. “But then there’s our company, the board of directors, and the stock market fluctuating like crazy these days. We have a lot on our plates, and we’re trying to figure out the best way to help Trevor, to make him feel less… lonely.”

I shake my head slowly. “You can’t hurry the pain away.”

“Excuse me?” Reed asks, his brow furrowed.

The subject strikes close to home for me. Maybe if I explain a little, they’ll take me seriously, and Archer won’t try so hard to make me feel uncomfortable. “I lost my parents in a train accident when I was six years old,” I tell them. “My grandma Sally took me in. She was a patient woman. I put her through a lot. I mean, I gave her plenty of grief before my own went away. It took time, almost a year, for me to finally understand and accept that I wasn’t going to see my mother and father again. But she stuck by my side through it all. On good days and bad days, she never wavered.

“I needed food, safety, and as much love as she could give me, and trust me, she gave me all of it. I needed a routine, an education, a circle of close friends. Day by day, my grandmother took care of me and my needs. She put up with my tantrums, my moments of anger and helplessness, and my constant freezing up. That’s why Trevor spends most of his time in his room, shut in and isolated; he’s frozen.”

“How do we unfreeze him?” Archer asks.

“He’s not a microwave dinner,” I reply with a shrug. “Each kid is different. That’s his coping mechanism. It should be enough as long as he knows you’re there for him. He just needs time, and then you’ll see a difference. He’ll come out of his room. He’ll start asking questions. Difficult questions.”

“Is that what you did?” Reed’s interest in me takes a profound level, and I’m not prepared for the intensity of his gaze when our eyes meet. My heart flutters. My stomach tightens ever so slightly.

“I wanted to understand death, dying, the whole thing. I was too little to wrap my head around it, but I was thankful that I had my grandma trying so hard to explain. Just seeing her try was enough for me, anyway. Trevor needs time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Cole tells the triplets. “You guys must’ve been really close to take such a leap.”

Archer chuckles. “Yeah, it was all mojitos and beach babes until the kid came along.”

“Really?” I ask with a cool grin.

He gets serious. It’s becoming an emotional roller coaster with this guy. You never know what you’re going to wind up. “No, not really. We’re running a Fortune 500 company, and we’re just inches away from a spot on the Forbes 50 list. We’ve got thousands of employees depending on us and about 3.5 million clients in California alone. We barely have time to sit down for dinner on the weekends, let alone care for a kid. But we do it because we love him and because we have to make sure he turns out all right.” He pauses, enjoying the moment. He can tell I’m flustered. Oh, he’s absolutely loving this, the ridiculously, annoyingly handsome jerk.

“Well, I stand corrected. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to head home.” I get up and give Cole a friendly nod. “Thanks for having me. Next Friday, it is. Just don’t change the room again.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it,” Archer says, clearly amused. The bulge in his pants speaks volumes, but as soon as he notices me looking down there, he smoothly puts one leg over the other and flashes me the spiciest grin. “I’ll give you points for bravery.”

“Keep ’em. Your ego’s too big for this room, anyway,” I reply and walk out.

What the hell just happened?

“Well, tonight was weird,” I mutter, heading for the stairs.

“Dakota, wait.”

A voice echoes behind me. Instantly, I stop and turn around. Reed walks over, tall as a fir tree—I couldn’t tell when he was sitting, but standing, he’s got me craning my neck.

“I have to apologize on behalf of my brother,” he says.

“Why? He’s a grown man.”

“True, but Maddox and I should’ve stepped in sooner. Archer has a way of speaking his mind without caring about how uncomfortable it makes others feel. It’s usually an excellent advantage in the boardroom, and his brutal, playful honesty is refreshing to most, but tonight, I felt like it was a bit over the top, even for him. We’re insanely stressed about this whole Trevor situation, so I do apologize.”

I offer a calm, sympathetic shrug. “It’s okay. It’s not like I wasn’t fanning the flames in there, too.”

“You’re an interesting woman, I’ll give you that,” he says, half-smiling, scanning me from head to toe again. “You definitely made tonight’s meeting a lot more enjoyable.”

“Glad to be of service, I guess,” I reply.

“Can we keep in touch?”

I stare at him for what feels like an eternity. My eyes widen. My brain comes to a sudden halt. “Keep in touch?”

“Yeah, let’s connect. We’re both single parents, we have a lot to talk about, and I’m not sure that a group setting is the best way to go about it,” he says, then takes out his phone. “Let me give you my number. I’d love to pick your brain more about this whole dealing with grief thing where Trevor is concerned.”

“Okay.”

Next thing I know, we’re saving each other’s phone numbers, my fingers moving automatically over the touchscreen as I wonder why I’m doing this. Right, single mom. Haven’t been with a man in a long time. I’m young. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. And I can’t let my ex-husband’s cowardice ruin what’s left of it. Besides, Reed seems like the more balanced of the three brothers.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Reed says, inching a bit closer.

It sets something off within me, transforming forbidden thoughts into desperately needed action. There is barely any air left between us. The tension crackles like electricity. I hold my breath. His lips part slowly, and the wilderness in his eyes sends my pulse racing. All I can do is nod, mindless and speechless.

He then goes back to the meeting.

I watch him go, and my heart is beating so fast that it might explode. Is this how the first level of promiscuity begins for someone like me? I meet a guy—or three—at the community center, and there are instant sparks. My panties get wet, we exchange phone numbers, and then wham, bam, thank you, ma’am?

What am I getting myself into here?

Whatever this is, I’m not backing down. My body demands it. I am as curious as a cat, and that may very well be my undoing.