Page 13 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

JOSH

Despite every effort to juggle my work and home lives, my week somehow goes from bad to worse. On pretty much every front and according to every metric, nothing is going my way.

At Climax Parks and Rec, except for a short meeting followed by a brief chat with the art teacher when I happened to meet her in line at Happy Endings bookstore and coffee shop, I haven’t been able to pin down a single team leader. On top of that, Eli keeps inventing reasons to visit the center, so Leia is furious with me.

Worse, my daughter Mabel has been super unhappy at the day camp I found for her, hoping to give my parents a break. According to my mom, Mabel goes directly from the car to her room at the end of every day and won’t tell any of us what she’s upset about. I’ve left messages for the camp director, but they haven't returned my calls.

The only bright spot has been Playgroup. It’s such a great program, I’ve started to look into ways to keep it around. It may serve a small population, but every caregiver and child in the group seems to benefit from it. Percy clearly loves the opportunity to play with kids his age and has fallen head over heels for Avery.

Almost as hard as I have. From her toddler-taming abilities to her sunny approach to each and every problem, I just want to bask in her warmth every second of the day.

But that way lies madness. Or at least a broken heart or three.

With my track record, the possibility that things would go well are zero to none. So I can’t risk even asking her on a date—because when I screw up, which I inevitably will—my kids will be hurt all over again.

With all this circling the drain in my brain, I do my best to focus on my job, since I finally have an appointment scheduled with another CPR lead this morning. Carl Conrad is the man Leia warned me the most about, but he’s the only person I’ve been able to pin down.

When I arrive at the center for our meeting, I take the long way around the building so I can avoid the Playgroup room, repeating the mantraStay away from Averythe entire way. But when I knock on the Facilities Manager’s office door, I hear Avery’s laughter on the other side.

Shit.

“Come in,” a gruff male voice calls.

As I reach for the door, it swings open. Thrown off balance, I stumble forward. When I grasp Avery by the upper arms to keep us both from falling, a memory of a dream I had early this morning flashes through my mind. One so filthy, even a microsecond of replay has my hips moving toward her like I’m packing a heat seeking missile.

“Oh, it’s you,” she says in a strangled tone that makes me wonder if she can tell what’s going on behind my zipper.

“You who?” the gruff voice barks.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer, releasing my grip on her and pressing into the doorframe to let her pass.

“You-you’re fine,” she stammers back before escaping past me.

I grip the door handle hard, only allowing myself three seconds to watch her swaying hips as she walks away, but even that has me in need of a cold shower. When I face the man I’m supposed to be meeting, however, the disapproving look on his face does the trick.

Leaning across his desk, Carl Conrad asks, “What are your intentions with Miss Avery?”

“I’m-uh, my… intentions?”

He stands, and it’s like Paul Bunyan rising before me. When Leia had described the facilities manager, I’d pictured an older man. But this guy is not only young, he’s jacked. Despite his grumpy expression, I’m sure the ladies find the piercing forest green eyes and shoulders barely contained by his uniform shirt to be insanely attractive.

“You’d better not be thinking of messing around with her.”

“I would never, um, mess around with her.” There’s no way I’d win if it came to a battle with this guy, so I guess it’s better to know now. “Are you two… together?”

“No,” he scowls, allHow could you even say that?“She’s like a sister to me. And she’s been hurt. I don’t want to see her hurt again. You get me?”

Each phrase he growls out is punctuated by a jab of his finger in my direction, so my hands fly up in the air in defense. “I got you. I have no plans to mess around with Avery. She’s my kid’s teacher.” When he narrows his eyes, I add, “In the playgroup.”

He grunts like he doesn’t believe me. I decide it’s best to pivot, even though it looks like I’ve already lost the support of the one person Leia told me I really had to win over. “So, as you’ve likely gathered, I’m Josh Harmon from Trede. Thanks so much for making time to meet with me.”

He crosses his arms, tucking his hands in his pits, which makes his biceps bulge. “Not like I had a choice.”

Common refrain around here. “Still, I appreciate it.”

“And what is this meeting for exactly?”

“I’m here to listen.”

---