Page 25 of From Maybe to Baby

Cocky. He probably snaps his fingers everywhere he goes, and women’s panties fall right off.

"DADDY."

"You better go," I tell him, nodding toward the ice cream cart. "Before they stage a coup."

"Story of my life." He starts backing away, tiny humans still attached. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah.”

“Okay, then.”

I watch him go, trying very hard not to notice how his shoulders look even better from behind. Or how good he is with his kids. Or how his laugh does something weird to my stomach that definitely isn't professional.

My phone buzzes.

Ryan:

Tell me you're getting something good

I look at my drowned laptop. At the hot hockey dad buying ice cream with the practiced efficiency of someone who's done this a thousand times. At the threats to my carefully constructed child-free life, which is crumbling faster than a poolside cookie in tiny hands.

Define good. And why are you on my back about this? Are you obsessed with me?

I am obsessed with keeping you on track for an assignment I know you can kill. And good is anything that doesn't include the words 'child-free' or 'escape while you can'

What about 'hot single dad destroys property, offers caffeine as compensation'?

I'm listening…

From across the pool, Jonas catches my eye again, grinning as he helps Jace pick ice cream toppings.

*Well Ryan, it started like this…

Back in my suite,I sit on the balcony and do what any self-respecting millennial does in a crisis—I make a list.

Reasons Why Hot Hockey Dad Is Absolutely Off Limits:

1. Has children (TWO of them)

2. Lives in San Francisco (cold, foggy, lacking in beachside Hawaiian cocktails)

3. Probably owns furniture that’s not from Ikea

4. Has a grown-up job with a schedule and everything

5. Comes with responsibilities that can't be solved with a plane ticket

6. Has blue eyes that are a trap

7. Has a smile that’s an even bigger trap

8. Handles kids like a pro

9. Reads my blog (which means he knows a lot about me, including my commitment to a child-free life)

I pause, watching a family struggle past my window with what appears to be enough pool toys to stock a water park. The mom is carrying four pair of tiny flip-flops while the dad juggles snacks and water wings.

Is this what normal people do on vacation?

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