Page 42 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“Yes?”

“Can I make you and Daddy a meal?”

I smile. “Where did that come from?”

She gets a twinkle in her eye. “I want to practice my cooking. Daddy lets me cook, but he has to…” She thinks for a moment. “Supervise me. Right?”

She’s asking if she used ‘supervise’ correctly. “That’s right.”

“I think it’d be really fun. Can I? Pleeease?”

“I’ll call your dad and check. He may have plans tonight.”

I hope, I think but don’t say. The twinkle in Emery’s eye has a quality of conspiracy to it, almost like she’s decided to play Cupid and set me and her dad up. I’d normally be wary of thinking like this about a seven-year-old, but Emery is very precocious. As the phone rings, I wonder what direction that talented streak in her will take. Nurtured by Sloane, it could become cunning, calculating. With Gray, it’s bound to end up selfless and productive.

“Hey,” Gray says, sounding a little withdrawn.

“Sorry. Is it a bad time?”

“No. Is Emery okay?”

I smile. That’s always his first question. He never planned on becoming a single father, but he rose to the challenge so freaking well. “Yeah, she’s great. Actually, she’s had an idea. She wants to cook us a meal tonight.”

“Oh really?” His tone grows warm. I imagine him sitting at his desk in the city, looming over it, a smile on his handsome face. “That’s cute. Any particular reason.”

“I don’t know. She seems really into the idea, though.”

“Who would I be to tell her no?” he says, chuckling. Am I imagining it, or does the laughter seem forced?CouldI tell, just by the tone of his voice? “Yeah, sure. I should be home in about two hours.”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“You just sound… different. I’m sorry I blew you off last night.” What am I even saying? I shouldn’t be apologizing. I made the right choice. But I don’t like this cold feeling coming from him. Which makes me a hypocrite, because I’m trying my best to be cold toward him.

“You were being the mature you,” he says. “I’m the one with gray in my hair, but you were thinking straight.”

“Silver,” I murmur.

“Callie?”

“Your hair, when I look at it, it doesn’t seem gray. It seems silver, almost like you chose to make it that way. But you didn’t dye it. That’s just not you. Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m probably not making any sense.”

“Whatever you’re saying, it sounds like a compliment. I’ll take it.”

When he chuckles, I laugh too. It feels way too easy.

***

When Gray arrives home, I sense something off with him. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it up, kneeling to give Emery a hug. When he looks at me, something almost like fear flashes across his eyes. It’s as if he’s afraid of what he feels for me—like he can’t take it anymore. Or am I flattering myself by thinking like that?

“Daddy, can I cook some burgers, please? For you and Callie?”

“And for yourself, sweetness.”

“No, this isyourmeal.”

He smiles. “Okay, then, mystery girl. Let’s go.”

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