Page 11 of One Night

He shrugs and rolls his big shoulders back with a sigh. “I don’t know how much to tell her or if I should tell her anything at all. She’s everything to me, and now that she’s starting to make friends and see all the other kids have moms… it’s hard.”

“What happened?” I twist my spoon back into the carton of cream as I hold my breath in anticipation. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever leave this man or Ellie. They’re perfect, and so is this ranch. Who would throw all of this away?

“Her mom was a woman I met a little over five years ago. We didn’t know each other well. She was an artist, a painter who was in town sketching the mountain range. We connected for the weekend, but she was ready for her next adventure, and I didn’t hear another thing from her until nine months later when she called to tell me I had a daughter.” He swallows down a bite of cookie dough. “Anyway, we did the DNA testing, and sure enough, Ellie was mine.”

“So, why isn’t she here?”

“She couldn’t handle staying in one place or caring for a child, so she signed over full custody and agreed never to come back again. I didn’t want to take a chance of her messing up Ellie in the future. Last year, around Christmas time, I heard that she’d passed away. Some kind of ski accident.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s sad. I feel bad things ended the way they did, but when she snuck away after that weekend without even a call, I knew that she was never going to be a stable presence in mine or our daughter’s life. I’m glad she was wise enough to give Ellie to me when she did. I can’t imagine where Ellie would be now if she hadn’t.”

So much of this makes sense now.

“So, you’ve been alone with Ellie this whole time, since she was an infant?”

“Six months old.” He shrugs. “We just made it work.”

“What about the chores? How’d you manage all that with a baby?”

“I brought her down there in her stroller and kept her close. When she started walking, I made a pen in the yard. She played, and I worked.”

My God, this man is hot as hell. “That’s pretty incredible. Most guys would’ve probably put the baby up for adoption, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just… that’s a lot of work you took on.”

“Well, I love her. I’m glad she’s here. I wish I could still make everything work but she needs a woman in her life, too.”

“Yeah.” I look down at the carton and grab another spoonful. “Well, I hope you find her. I know yo—”

“I’m pretty sure I did. I mean, you proved that today. She needs you in her life.” He laughs. “No pressure. I’m not tying you to the house or anything. I’m just saying you’re special, and you got here just in time.”

Okay, I’m going to die now. Tell me how a person doesn’t read into that.

His hand reaches toward mine and lands over the top of it, brushing softly. “Ellie’s right. Your superpower is kindness.”

My clit throbs harder and harder as our eyes stay focused on one another. I’m crazy. This doesn’t mean anything. Telling someone they’re kind is just a friendly, nice thing to say. I’m sure he tells loads of women that they’re kind.

But does he say it in his underwear, at his kitchen table, while they’re wearing his favorite t-shirt?

What the hell is happening? Why do I want to lean in and kiss him? Why does he look like he’s thinking about kissing me?

Send help!

“Jesus,” he groans under his breath before breaking the spell. “Sorry… I got lost for a second there.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, standing from the table to set my spoon in the kitchen sink. When I turn back, he’s kneading the back of his neck, staring again. “You okay?”

“Oh,” he glances down at the table and rolls his head to the side, “I fucked my neck up today bending over the tractor.”

“It’s probably your suboccipital. I can work it out for you.” God, my voice probably sounded way too excited to offer that.

“No, that’s not in your job description. I’ll be okay. It happens all the time.” He continues kneading the back of his neck, rolling it back and forth.

“You’re probably doing more damage rolling it that way.” I stand behind him, landing my hands on the back of his strong, solid shoulders. “Can I try and work it out?”

He groans low in his throat as my hand rubs the tight muscles at the base of his skull. “You sure? It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m sure.”

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