Page 21 of Summer with the Single Dad

“I dunno,” she said with a carefree shrug. “I’m sure there’s someone on the island who would appreciate a free cake. Unless you have the market here cornered?”

“For free cakes?” He laughed again. “I’m not sure there’s such a thing as market saturation in that case. “It’s almost the end of the school year and the elementary school hosts a big funfair on the field the last Friday of the year. It’s a huge fundraiser, they go all out. Cotton candy machine, bouncy house, snow cones, games, prizes, you name it. I’ve volunteered to donate four dozen cupcakes and four cakes for the cakewalk and as prizes. I’m not sure how we came to that number, but that’s what I said I’d do.”

She spoke before the idea had time to fully register in her brain. “Do you want help?”

His eyes lit up. “That wasn’t why I mentioned it—”

“Oh no, I didn’t think that. I mean, I’m not working, you are. I don’t have kids, you do. I love baking and decorating, and giving the cakes away. So it makes sense, right? Let me help.” Joy spread through her until her fingertips tingled at the thought of getting to bake cakes and cupcakes, and give them to children.

“Well, I mean, if you’re offering. I’d appreciate the help.”

“I can do half. Two dozen cupcakes and two cakes. Any specific themes?”

“Just … fun. Make them fun.” Now the way he looked at her not only sent her whole body tingling but those butterflies in her belly had recovered from their run and were now flapping about like twitterpated fools.

The front door to the cabin next to hers opened, and an older gentleman, probably in his late sixties, stepped out onto the porch in nothing but a pair of striped boxers. His belly hung over the waistband and his butt crack emerged when he lifted his arms above his head, yawned, and stretched, twisting his body away from them.

He caught them both looking at him and shot them a groggy smile. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning, Mr. Angelopoulos,” Bennett said, earning a wider smile from the older gentleman.

Mr. Angelopoulos grunted, nodded, then headed back into the cabin and closed the door, but not before giving them another very clear visual on his butt crack and hairy back.

Bennett snorted once the door snicked shut.

Justine snorted too, covering her mouth with ehr hand since her mother liked to remind her on any occasion she could, that snorting was incredibly unladylike, not to mention rude.

“How’d the white noise machine work last night?” Bennett asked. Was he as reluctant as she was to part ways? Because if she had any ounce of bravery, she’d invite him inside for breakfast—or a shower.

“It worked well, thank you. I appreciate you having your brother drop it off.”

“I would have done it myself, but the girls pulled me away.”

“I appreciate it.”

An awkward silence fell between them, and Justine wanted to swat it away. She wanted to go back to their run, where they laughed and chatted about cakes and how she preferred to make her own fondant, even though it took more time.

“Well, I should get home and shower, then see the kids off to school.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Enjoy your … day.” He turned to go, flashing her one more of those slightly crooked smiles that had her insides liquifying.

She stepped up onto her porch and waved before he turned fully around and jogged away.

She had to stop herself from falling backward against the front door like a swooning Disney Princess. She didn’t swoon. Justine Biyu Brazeau did not swoon.

Unlocking her front door, she stepped inside, peeling out of her clothes as she made her way to the shower. By the time she reached the bathroom, she was in nothing but her sports bra and underwear. And a smile.

But as soon as she faced the mirror and realized she was smiling, she dropped it like a stone in a pond.

Nobody from Mr. O’Malley’s family was smiling right now. And Mr. O’Malley sure as heck wasn’t able to smile. So why did she deserve to?

Guilt replaced every other emotion inside her until she teamed over with it as she stepped under the warm spray of the water.

She never should have offered to make cakes for Bennett. And she should have told him to run on his own, that she didn’t want company. As much as she enjoyed their interactions yesterday at the grocery store and honey farm, she tried to send him the hint that she wasn’t interested.

Even though she was.

But she didn’t deserve him.

They came from entirely different worlds and he didn’t deserve someone as messed up and lost as her, coming in and adding just more chaos to his full and demanding life. She was lost, depressed, and—as Tad often liked to remind her—cold and emotionally stunted.

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