Page 2 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

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, as Chelsea said, meet a few hot dads while I’m there. 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 love my daughter more than anything, but Keith and I were supposed to do this together. He had me hooked on his breadcrumbs of love, promising the moon and the stars.

Like the gullible fool that I was, I followed him all the way to Los Angeles to get married and start a new life there. I actually thought he was the one. But then Maisie was born, and poor Keith couldn’t hack it. Our relationship gradually degraded until one day, I came home to find that he’d taken his things and left behind a note, apologizing. A week later, I filed for divorce. A year ago, I moved back to San Francisco with Maisie, and it’s been a struggle ever since.

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. Well, not exactly.

It’s a room full of dudes, which seems logical enough for a Single Dads Club. But they’re all surprisingly easy on the eyes. Or maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve actually been withsomeone that my brain is just playing tricks on me.

“Oh,” I mumble, my face suddenly burning red. “Hi.”

From what I can gather at first glance, there are about twenty of them, mostly over the age of twenty-five. They’re casually dressed, some handsome, some gorgeous, and some not memorable in any particular way. But three of them have their sights set on me, watching me like hawks, while I’m stuck wondering if I’ve lost my mind because they’re identical.

“Can I help you, miss?” a man asks. He’s the first to get up from a wide circle of chairs.

“Uh, what?” I manage, finally able to look at him, but my gaze gets drawn back to the three again. They are identical. I’m not crazy. They’re triplets and gorgeous, like Estonian supermodels or something. Silvery blonde hair. Sharp cheekbones, muscular beneath those large t-shirts that are supposed to hide stuff—but you can’t hide handsome, not really. Their eyes range from wild green to grey to gold green… so odd.

“Can I help you?” the man in the middle asks again.

“Sorry,” I say, snapping out of my daze. “Yes, sorry. Yes. I’m looking for Room 23, the Single Dads Club.”

“This is it,” the wild-green-eyed triplet says, carefully measuring me from head to toe. “We’re all single dads here. Were you looking for a daddy, miss?”

Immediately, my snarky tone is activated. “I was looking for all of you, actually. I’m Dakota. I’m supposed to teach you all how to perform child CPR.”

“Congratulations, Dakota. You made it. Half an hour late, but you made it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. This place isn’t easy to navigate.”

“I’m glad you found us,” the man in the middle says. “I’m Cole, by the way. I’m subbing for Eric in running this group tonight. Better late than never, right?”

“I suppose. Again, so sorry.”

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 almost automatically while my eyes are 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 grey-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. Again, sorry for the delay,” 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 get injured or worse and not have a clue as to how to save them,” I continue. “Chelsea, the co-organizer of this club, suggested that I take those courses, and not a day goes by that I am not grateful to my friend for insisting on that. I live every day with a lighter heart, knowing that in almost all of the worst-case scenarios that I make up in my head—and as single parents yourselves, you know exactly what I’m talking about—I have enough training and knowledge to keep my baby safe and alive until she’s given the proper, life-saving medical care that she needs. And I’m sure you all want the same for your kids.”

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 keep watching me, their gazes moving up and down my figure, and it has been a long time since I have felt so receptive to 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 daddysays. “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.

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