Page 36 of Single All the Way

“Am I awful or perfect?” he asked, peering down at me and looking so damn handsome. He nudged his upper arm into mine as he said it, leaning against me for an extra moment.

Our gazes locked as I tried to think of how to answer, my brain just addled enough by alcohol that I found it a perplexing question. I stopped trying to answer, caught up in the depths of his cornflower-blue eyes with the crinkles just starting at the outer corners that spoke of years of kindness and laughter.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Ruby asked in a voice that wasn’t at all quiet or private.

I whipped my head toward the kids, my heart skipping a beat. Too late, I realized my hand was still clinging to Ben’s thigh under the table. I slid it away and put it in my lap, scanning the surrounding tables to check if anyone besides the four urchins at ours had noticed. No one appeared to have heard, not surprising since the acoustics of the room kept it difficult to hear specifics over the ongoing din of the crowded restaurant.

“Miss Emerson and me?” Ben said with a chuckle. “No. Remember, we’re friends from way back? We sometimes tease each other.”

“Do you sometimes kiss?” Ruby asked.

“Eww,” Evelyn said.

A lie was on the tip of my tongue just as Sarai, our server, popped up to the table with a large, dinner-laden tray.

“Who had the chicken tenders?” Sarai asked, drawing all four kids’ attention away from us.

“Saved by the server,” Ben muttered with a sheepish grin.

I tried to smile too, then turned my attention to the food.

It had become crystal clear in a heartbeat that, alcohol or no alcohol, I needed to be a lot more cautious about my growing attraction to Ben. There were four little humans who’d be deeply affected if they ever thought something was between him and me.

ChapterEleven

Ben

Ishould’ve been in a holly-jolly mood Saturday evening for the single dads’ night, Christmas edition, but I wasn’t. I was tense and not myself.

Living with Emerson was becoming a daily dose of torture. Kissing her was the dumbest thing I ever could’ve done, because now I could barely talk to her without remembering what she tasted like, how her lips felt. I loved being with her, and I fucking hated it at the same time.

It was getting harder to keep my guard up and keep my hands to myself. Last night at Henry’s, sitting next to her, nearly touching, had felt natural and right…until Ruby had blurted out the marriage question. It’d had the effect of a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over our heads.

Unfortunately, the chilling effect had worn off. There were only so many cold showers a guy could get away with taking. And getting myself off to thoughts of Emerson didn’t quench my need. Only she would.

I had no fucking idea how I was going to get through the next few weeks without losing my damn mind.

“You okay tonight?” Knox asked as he joined me at his kitchen counter, where a slow cooker of chili was simmering.

The five of us—including Chance, Max, and West, who were parked in the living room in front of a college football game—had already devoured a good portion of it.

“Sure,” I said, summoning a smile. “Chili’s damn good. Did you make it or did Quincy?”

“I did, thank you very much. I’ve been trying to cook more.”

“Well, you nailed it.”

“Anyone can follow a recipe,” Knox said humbly. “The cornbread’s a mix. I know my limits.”

Knox was hosting tonight, a rare occurrence since he was one of the two who’d fallen prey to a happily-ever-after and technically no longer met the “single” part of the single dad qualification. He and Max were still dads, single or not. We had an unspoken agreement that once you were in, you stayed in. The ties we built with our weekly get-togethers were strong.

“Where’d you say the girls are tonight?” I asked.

“Quincy’s out with the sisters-in-law. Girls’ night at the Barn Bar. I’m sure I’ll get a call for a ride in the wee hours.” His goofy grin told me he didn’t mind. “Juniper’s with Faye and my father for a sleepover.”

“Nothing like a sleepover with the grandparents,” I said. “For the parents, I mean.”

“You aren’t lying.” Knox set his empty bowl in the sink.

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