Page 62 of Single Chance

She seemed like a sweet girl who was struggling to find her place in this world. She had a pretty smile that didn’t quite erase the hint of sadness from her eyes.

My pregnancy sugar cravings were real, and yesterday I’d convinced Sam to help me make chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. Neither one of us had much prior cupcake experience, but the dazzling selection at Sugar Babies last week had inspired me. Inspired me and had me daydreaming about all the flavors I’d passed up to settle for a single chocolate peppermint.

The bakery here in town, Sugar, specialized in cookies and donuts. I’d indulged in my share of those, but nothing swayed my need for a rich, fluffy cupcake with a big mound of sweet, creamy frosting.

Our baking endeavor had been one of the first times Sam and I had spent more than a few random minutes together outside of dinners. At first she’d been shy, but the more we chatted, themore she’d opened up. I hadn’t pried, but with Chance occupied by a hockey game in the other room, she’d confessed she didn’t have any friends except a girl named Kinsley, who was in several of her classes.

From what I gathered, Kinsley was brainy and not popular, which Sam made sound like a strike against her. In my eyes, it was the perfect opportunity to deepen the friendship. I’d mildly suggested that, being careful not to come across as parental or teacher-ish. Sometimes a girl just needed some low-key girl talk.

Our cupcakes turned out ugly and homemade-looking compared to the works of art at Sugar Babies, but they tasted sublime.

In the kitchen now, I turned on the dim light over the stove and located a pen so I could sign the humorous Valentine card. As I was stuffing the card in the envelope, Chance came down the stairs.

“Hey, what are you doing down here?” he asked in a hushed voice as he entered the kitchen.

Holy hell. Apparently I was feeding my fantasies with some man fodder.

He wore gray sweatpants and a black tee that stretched across his chest. His feet were bare, hair sexily mussed, and his biceps bulged appealingly where his sleeves ended.

I swallowed and tore my gaze away to the candy. “I picked up a Valentine gift for Sam. I’m setting it out so she sees it in the morning. It’s not much, just a little something so she doesn’t have a sucky Valentine’s Day, in case she doesn’t get anything else.”

“From what I’ve heard, she won’t get anything else,” he said sadly. “And I am a shithead of a father. I didn’t even think about giving her something.”

I held the box of candy out to him.

“She’ll love that,” he said.

“You can give it to her. I’ll give her the hair clips.” I held up the three pack of flower-shaped clips similar to the one she’d complimented when I wore it, then placed it in the gift bag. “And the card, because I already wrote in it, and you and I aren’t quite on joint gift-giving levels.”

“Not quite.” He looked from the candy to my face. “I’ll owe you big-time.”

I shook my head. “Remember we’re not keeping score? There’s a place on the back for to and from. I didn’t write anything yet.”

“Thank you. Double thank you. I really bombed that.”

“There’s no rule that dads have to get their kids a Valentine.”

“Doesn’t mean it won’t make her day better.” He scrawled a message on the candy box, and we set the gifts on the counter where Sam couldn’t miss them.

“I hope so. I’ve always told myself it’s a pointless Hallmark-hyped holiday, but that only goes so far when the girl next to you gloats about roses and candy.”

He nodded. “Surely you had a lot of boyfriends though,” he said, his tone teasing.

I didn’t have to think long to accurately say, “I’ve never had a guy get me anything for Valentine’s Day.”

His smile dropped. “Never?”

I shook my head. “I’ve only had one relationship that lasted longer than a few months, and he turned out to be not a gem.”

“In high school?”

I laughed. “Ever.”

He pegged me with a skeptical look.

“Fact,” I said.

He crossed the kitchen to the cupcake container, opened it, and took one out. “This is what I came down for. Want one?”

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