Knocked Up By Love by Ella Goode

Chapter One

Bear

“Mr. Chan doyou think my nose is too big?” Paige arrows a finger toward her eye, which I deflect at the last minute with a hairbrush.

“Too big for what?” I pluck the hair tie from between my teeth and slide it over the ponytail I’ve created. Paige turns, and the hair slips out of my grip.

“Too big for my face.” She scrunches her tiny nose and squeezes her eyes shut. “What do you think?”

“I think your nose is the right size for your face.”

Her eyes flip open, and she frowns. “The right size? So not perfect.”

How did I get that wrong? “It’s perfect. A perfect size.” I can feel panic welling in my throat.

“But you said right the first time, not perfect so it's not the perfect size.”

Five-year-old logic is terrifying. “Shannon,” I call. “Shannon!” I need some help in here.

Like a predator sensing fear, Paige can tell the plea to my assistant is a sign of weakness. She makes a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “You don’t have to lie to me. If my nose is too big, it’s too big.” She sticks her tiny button into the air and turns her back to me. “I’m going to be late for school. We’re painting bunnies with our hands. I don’t want to miss out.”

“Sure.” I swallow a stone in my throat. This isn’t going to work. I can’t believe that I’m this kid’s guardian. I’m not even blood related, but somehow she got dropped in my lap. I’m not equipped for this sort of thing. I’m no dad. I’m a fighter. A guy with big hands that are used to pummeling people’s faces in, not holding hairbrushes. I finally wrestle the ponytail tie into place and give the hair a good tug. It’s off center and too tight, but as long as Paige doesn’t look in the mirror, will she really be able to tell?

My manager, Shannon, appears in the doorway. “Sorry, boss, I was on the phone with the promoter. The weigh-in is next week. They said that the other guy, Fargo, is going to start a fight at the weigh-in but they don’t want you to respond.”

I roll my eyes. Everything is so calculated these days to get ratings. You can’t just stand in a ring and pummel someone until they get knocked out anymore. There has to be a media circus. There has to be a storyline—a hook. I hate that. I’m not an actor. I’m a fighter.

“He doesn’t want to do it,” Paige chirps.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because my daddy always said Mr. Chan didn’t like the extra stuff. Only what went on inside the ring. That’s why I’m here with Mr. Chan. Daddy said Mr. Chan lived a simple life and I wouldn’t be bothered. Isn’t that right, Mr. Chan?” Paige’s button nose is still in the air, but this time there’s an air of challenge, and if I don’t pass this time, the girl is going to walk out on me and find a new guardian. Isn’t that what I want, though? For this five-year-old to leave and let me live my monk life existence of practice, training, diet, and watching gardening shows on YouTube and Netflix? But where would she go? Her daddy, Johnny “the Snake” Derulo, is in the hospital after being run over by his ex-girlfriend. She found out he’d been cheating on her and decided she’d had enough of him. And who could blame her? Johnny is called “The Snake” not because he’s got wicked clever moves but because he’s the type of guy to kick you in the back of the knee when you’re not facing him. If I don’t keep her, where does she go? To some other guy in Johnny’s circle who might not treat her right? Not that I’m treating her right. Hell, I let her have a cupcake for breakfast the other day because I thought she was going to cry.

I rub the back of my hand along my short-cropped hair. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m a boring guy, Paige. Maybe too boring for you.”

The little girl shrugs. “Maybe, but Daddy said I should go to you if anything ever happened to him. You don’t want me to disobey my daddy, do you?”

“I guess not.” She gives me a withering look. “No,” I correct. “You should not disobey your daddy. Time for school then. Don’t want you to be late for bunny painting.”

Paige’s expression changes in a second from almost chiding to blinding excitement. She claps her hands together. “Bunnies! I love them.” She hops out the door like the animal she loves while I follow more slowly.

“I don’t know if I’m up for this, Shannon,” I whisper under my breath as I pass through the door.

She sends me a sympathetic look but has no answers. I am not equipped for this guardian business, but the last I heard, Johnny would be out of commission for three weeks. I can endure anything for three weeks.

Downstairs, I double check the five-year-old’s ladybug backpack. It has an extra pair of clothes, a fruit roll-up, and an umbrella. “You got any cash on you, Paige?”

She scrunches her face in thought. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m putting some twenties in here.” I glance over to Shannon. “We should get Paige a phone. What if she needs to call me? Do we have an extra one around?”

“Probably. Wait here.”

While my assistant runs off to find a phone, I crouch down and help Paige shoulder the backpack. “This too heavy for you?”

“No. Mr. Chan.”

Mr. Chan sounds so formal. I barely know who she’s referring to when she says it. “Can you call me Bear?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because Daddy told me to always call you Mr. Chan.” Apparently for all his faults, Johnny loved his little girl, and she is utterly devoted to him.

“All right, Paige. Mr. Chan it is.”

“Here you are, Mr. Chan,” sings Shannon, arriving with a phone. Her eyes are twinkling as she hands it over.

I give her a death glare before turning back to Paige. “Here. Press your thumb here and then click the green button. It will dial me directly. Use it if you need it.”

“Okay.”

I stick it in a pocket under one of the ladybug’s wings. “You good?”

“Yes.”

As Shannon leads the girl down the stairs to the waiting car, I sink down into a chair in the living room. It’s only seven in the morning, but I feel like I could use a bottle or three of whisky. Only three weeks? I don't know if I can make it.