Page 8 of Single Dad's Hot Nanny

“Do you have a recommendation?” she asked. “You said you come here often.”

I nodded. “The house red is excellent, and they make a pretty good Old-Fashioned if you’re into cocktails.”

I watched as her cute little nose wrinkled as she considered. It was surprising how into this woman I was, and we hadn’t gotten to the appetizers yet. This was a good thing. I was convinced my Blind Connection would be a fraud, and I’d instantly regret everything, but I was wrong.

“I’ll take the house red,” she said.

I went with the Old-Fashioned.

When we were alone again, Jane beamed at me. I wanted to ask about her age but was unsure of how to approach the subject. I was usually a straightforward guy, but this wasn’t a business meeting. I didn’t want to offend her.

“So, Michael,” she began. “I have to know. How did you end up onBlind Connections?”

I rubbed my jaw. I was still embarrassed to be on a dating app. “It’s a long story…” Sighing, I admitted, “Alright, it’s not that long.”

Jane’s giggle made the corners of my lips twitch. I liked the sound of her laughter.

“A friend recommended it. He was annoyingly persistent, and I gave in. What about you?”

“I saw an ad on social media.” She shrugged, and her lashes lowered to hide her eyes, as if she was as embarrassed as I was to be onBlind Connections. “I’ve tried other apps, but I was super skeptical about ablinddating one. As it turns out, it’s better than the others…”

I held her gaze, noticing that jolt of attraction I felt when I first saw her. She was right. Our text conversations had gotten more intimate over time, and I felt like I knew her. I liked her before I saw her face. That solidified that Jane and I had morethan a superficial connection. That damn app was proving itself to be useful… to my chagrin.

“This could be a one-off thing,” I said because I just had to maintain a sliver of my typical skepticism towardeverything. “I’m sure there are plenty of crazies onBlind Connections.”

“Are you a pessimist, Michael?” Jane asked, wearing a smirk.

“A realist.”

She watched me closely. “You’re just as I expected based on your messages.”

“What exactly did you perceive about me?”

“You’re on the serious side, but there’s a hidden, softer layer that you let slip through now and then. You need the right person to coax out your laid-back side… someone you’re comfortable with.”

I blinked, surprised by her perceptiveness. Of course, as a father of a sweet, exuberant six-year-old, I wasn’t perpetually an unsmiling hardass. I did have my soft moments.

Our waitress arrived with our drinks, and before I knew it, I was immersed in conversation with Jane. It was fascinating and amusing at some points… many points, actually. She really was a barrel of laughs just like her messages.

By the time we got to dessert, Jane knew that I worked in finance, but I didn’t go into the finer details. I learned that she was between jobs and waiting on a call after an interview she had yesterday. Everything we learned about each other was surface level, which I thought was fine for a first meeting.

I was seriously considering another date with her, so I wondered if maybe I should tell her that I had a child. Just as I was about to mention it to gauge her reaction, her phone buzzed in her purse for the fourth time, and she checked it with a hint of annoyance.

She then gave me an apologetic smile. “Give me a minute to respond to this.”

“No problem,” I said, pushing aside the crème brûlée I’d barely touched. I wasn’t big on dessert, but Jane seemed to be. She had attacked hers with gusto. I liked that she indulged in every dish rather than picking at a salad all evening. I’d seen plenty of that when I was a part of the dating scene… eons ago.

“That was my brother. Again.” She sighed softly. “Big brothers can be annoying, but I appreciate his concern.”

“I wouldn’t know about the dynamics between younger and older siblings. I’m an only child. You mentioned your brother a lot in your texts. Are you two close?”

“We are.” She smiled. “Sometimes I have to remind him I’m not hisbabysister anymore, though.”

I hummed my amusement. Perhaps if I had a younger sister, I’d be the same way. “Speaking of… How old are you, Jane?”

I’d held off long enough, and my curiosity demanded to be satisfied.

She paused in the middle of lifting her fork and wide eyes landed on me.

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