Page 64 of The Single Dads Club
Irony is a bitch.
“Is she your ...” I gesture between him and the giggly little girl bouncing on his hip.
“My daughter.” With a big, proud smile, he presses a soft kiss into her white-blond hair before tugging at the ruffled sleeve of her tiny pink shirt. “Grier, can you wave hi to Corrigan?”
With some gentle urging, Grier raises one chubby hand and wiggles it at me. “Hi,” she squeaks, then pushes her face into her daddy’s shirt sleeve.
It’s way cute, but I’m too shell-shocked to so much as wave back. I’m busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that Lexington Dane is afather. I know I shouldn’t ask this question, but I can’t help myself. I’m too curious.
“Who’s her mom?” My voice is abrupt, and the second the awkward question leaves my lips, I wish I could shove it back inside. I’m curious, of course, but I don’t want him to know that. I don’t want him thinking I’m interested in him or his life. He can sleep with and make babies with whoever he wants. It shouldn’t matter to me. Yet, it does.Deeply. And now I’ve just revealed that to him.
The proud look on his face falls into a more somber one. “She’s not in the picture. It’s a story for another time.”
“Oh,” I say, not exactly a witty response, but it’s the best I’ve got.
I can’t help but sneak a peek at his left hand. Sure enough, his fourth finger is bare. Could Lexington really be a single dad? I don’t even know how to begin processing that information.
“Well, I’ve gotta get this one down for a nap,” he says, breaking the uncomfortable silence as he returns little Grier to her stroller. “But you and I should catch up. Swing by later? I just got a new espresso machine that you can help me break in.” His gaze lingers on mine and my body warms under the scrutiny of his blue eyes.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, eyeing my car in my peripheral vision. “I have plans with Sarah Jo, actually. I should probably—”
“Tomorrow then,” he says, voice softening. “Please?”
I draw in a long breath, holding it behind my lips as I think through my reply.
I could feed him some corny line about him being part of my past, not my present. Or I could muster up an excuse about having plans for tomorrow too. I could even just flat-out tell him no.
But I don’t.
Instead, when I let out that breath I’ve been holding, what comes out is, “Text me your address.”
He arches one thick, dark brow in my direction. “Same number as high school?”
“Same number,” I say with a nod, immediately realizing my mistake. If I still have the same number, then ...
“Then why didn’t you reply to my voice mail?” He finishes my thought out loud, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
“I was busy,” I say quickly, my voice wavering ever so slightly.
Lexington’s eyes narrow with skepticism. He’s always possessed the unique ability to know when I’m lying, even when no one else can tell. It looks like that skill hasn’t worn off in the last ten years.
Luckily, I’m not lying about my plans with Sarah Jo this afternoon. We have a twelve thirty brunch reservation, and I definitely need to go home and shower first.
Checking my smartwatch, I wince at the time. “I really have to get going. I’ve got a reservation to make.”
He nods. “Well, it was good to see you.”
“Good to, um, yeah,” I stammer. But by the look in his eyes, I’m guessing he can see right through that lie too.
After a short drive consisting of me screaming into the silence in my car, and questioning if the last ten minutes of my life were some weird dream, I’m back home.
Not for long, though. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I’m back in the car in under half an hour, firing off a text to Sarah Jo before I hit the gas.
On my way now. I hope you’re ready for some crazy news.
My phone buzzes with her reply almost immediately. No words, just about a million exclamation points.God, I love this girl.
We arrive at the restaurant at about the same time, sharing a quick hug in front of the hostess stand before we’re taken to a table near the back. Thank goodness we snagged a reservation in advance. There isn’t an empty table in this place.
