Page 2 of The Single Dad

Noelle doesn't hesitate. She drops to my kid’s level, smiling wide, and opening her arms. I’m about to tell her he isn’t big on hugs. But my nth surprise of the night comes in the form of Tomtom stepping into the hug and wrapping his small arms around her neck.

And just like that, any hesitation I have about hiring her wavers. I watch in awe at the effortlessly easy way she coaxes my son from his shell.

“You must be Tomtom,” she says, her voice warm, inviting. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Tomtom grins, rocking on her heels, clasping his hands behind him. “Did Dad talk about me?” He throws me a look, skeptical. “Because he always says I talk too much when it’s time for bed.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and lean against the wall. “I stand by that. All your stories and sudden realizations come out at bedtime.”

The woman in front of me laughs, and it does something to my chest, something tight and unsettling, which I try to ignore … unsuccessfully. “I like talkers,” she tells Tomtom. “Makes my job more fun.”

“Please don’t call me Tomtom.” He leans close to her to whisper, but his voice is loud enough that I can hear it all the way from here. “I like Thomas better.”

“Oh, duly noted, Thomas.” She lowers her voice, glancing at me playfully. “Are you the boss around here or is he?”

Tomtom nods, all serious. “Dad thinks he is. But really, it’s me.”

I huff, amazed at how, five minutes into meeting each other for the first time, they’re suddenly best friends and ganging up on me. “That’s not?—”

“Dad, please be quiet.” Tomtom presses a tiny finger to his lips. “You said it’s not polite to interrupt when people are talking.”

Noelle bites back a laugh, and I shake my head, watching as my kid takes to her like he’s known her forever. Tomtom chatters away, filling the room with his animated stories—something he only ever does with people he’s already comfortable with—and she listens with full attention, nodding, gasping in all the right places, asking questions as though she actually cares about every ridiculous detail.

It’s not surprising, not really. Peter mentioned in passing that she used to be a teacher, said she had the patience of a saint. But hearing it and seeing it are two different things.

I should focus on the fact that she’s the perfect nanny—capable, sweet, kind, and effortlessly handling my kid. But all I can focus on is the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she laughs. The way her eyes flicker with amusement when she catches me watching.

Noelle came into our home, and all of a sudden, everything looked brighter, the colors more vivid.

My God. What in the world is happening to me? Have I gone way too long without a woman? Is my dry spell finally catching up to me?

I clear my throat. “All right, Tom, don’t overwhelm her on her first day. Besides, you should be in bed.”

Tomtom grins up at me. “She likes talkers, remember?”

Noelle shrugs, smirking. “He’s got a point.”

With a sigh, I tip my head to his bedroom upstairs. “Yes, but it’s past your bedtime, young man.”

Tomtom pouts, but he gives her a quick hug before hugging my leg and running upstairs. Noelle and I watch him, and I hear her soft chuckle. It’s not just about Tomtom chatting with her like he’s known her forever. It’s the fact that he hugged her. Twice.

Hug.

Tomtom isn’t normally affectionate. He is to me, but not to someone he’s just met.

God, I should be relieved that Tomtom likes her. That I’ve clearly found someone good and trustworthy. Someone I know will take good care of him when I’m not at home.

But all I feel is something else entirely—something that twists low in my gut.

Something dangerous. Something intense. Something difficult to ignore.

I’m in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. And the worst part is, I’m not even sure I want to dig myself out of this hole.

The beer is cold,and the game on TV is barely holding my attention. Normally, at this time, I’m already relaxing, unwinding after a long day, my muscles sore, but my mind keeps drifting to her. To the way she smiled at Tomtom, to the warmth in her voice, to the way she fit so effortlessly into my house a fewminutes after arriving. As if she already carved a spot for herself in our lives.

I take another swig, shaking off the thought. Bad idea. Very bad idea. Peter will have my head if he finds out I’m thinking of his sister this way.

When she was in high school, Peter found out she was dating a jock. He drove for three hours to corner the guy, and put the fear of God into him. He and Noelle apparently had a big row about it, but she ultimately understood he was just playing the part of a good big brother.

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