Page 16 of Single Dad Dilemma
I swallowed around the lump and forced it down, forced it somewhere safer. “She may not say yes,” I reminded them gently. “But I will ask.”
Maggie lifted her head, happy tears making her eyes sparkle. “Right now? Then we don’t have to come to the office tomorrow after school. Bridget said she was going to put us to work, and I don’t know if she was serious, but I don’t really want to find out.”
I exhaled. “Yeah, I can go ask her right now. But that means you’ve got to let me up.”
They jumped off the couch, still whooping in glee. “She’s totally going to say yes,” Bryce said. “I just know it.”
I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my game-day Henley—the black long-sleeve I favored for home games, though it usually stayed hidden underneath my coat. “All right, all right. I’ll, uh, I’ll go now.”
My kids couldn’t be happier. But as I walked through the front door and stared across the expanse separating my yard from the one temporarily serving as hers, my face flattened.
Knowing my luck, she’d see it was me and slam the door in my face. Again.
“Be nice to the neighbor,” I said under my breath, and exhaled heavily as I strode toward the house. “I’d love to hear your advice now, Bridget.”
Music was audible again as I approached the front door; the recognizable strains of old Christmas songs had me sighing.
Get a fucking tree for your kids,I chastised myself. No wonder they were seeking out someone else’s company. I swiped a hand over my mouth, took a deep, fortifying breath, and pressed the doorbell.
“Just a second,” her voice called through the door, punctuated by the dog’s gruff, growly attempt at a bark. The furry face appeared in one of the windows flanking the door, and I swear that animal glared at me.
The door opened, and the sight of her polite smile made me blink, but the moment she saw that it was me, the smile disappeared like someone flipped a light switch.
“Oh, it’s you.” Her arms immediately crossed over her chest. She wore all black—leggings molded to her long legs, a slinky shirt clinging to her torso, and a fuzzy Santa hat on the top of her head. “What do you want?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I wanted to be anywhere in the continental United States than right there, but I didn’t think it was wise. Her dark eyes were heavily lashed, but her face—high cheekbones and a delicate jawline—was free of makeup.
Underneath her collarbone, I saw that flash of ink again, but given the amount of cleavage on display in the deep V of her shirt, I kept my eyes right on hers.
Something about her was disconcerting enough that I almost spun on my heel and marched right back home. The thought of my kids was the only thing that kept me in place.
I exhaled slowly, dredging up the words even though they were the last thing I wanted to say. “I’d appreciate if we could have a moment to talk.” I licked my lips and kept my face even, despite the anxious coil growing tighter and tighter in my chest. “I have a proposition for you.”
Chapter Five
Barrett
“I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but ... I don’t really feel like having guests.”
Lily hopped over a pile of tangled Christmas lights, and while she let the dog out of the office, I eyed the stacks of clear bins everywhere. Literally everywhere.
A nine-foot tree stood in the corner of the living room off to the side—branches empty except for the white twinkling lights. Bins of ornaments sat on the floor around it.
The mantel was covered in thick garland, lights peeking out between the green, red, and gold ornaments affixed to the branches. A collection of nutcrackers in varying shapes and sizes stood at attention on the dining room table.
“These are all Christmas decorations?” I asked.
Lily let out a low laugh, and the sound of it made me grit my teeth. “There’s more in the basement, but I’m just starting with the basics. Seems like they go all out.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “We moved in last spring.” Released from its prison, the dog trotted over in my direction, his underbite surprisingly menacing, considering his size. “Your dog is wearing a diaper.”
“Is he, now?” she said dryly. I gave her a look, and she shrugged one shoulder lightly. “He’s old. Sometimes they need one.”
The dog growled under his breath, and I held up my hands. “I’m not judging. Calm down. God, you two are a friendly pair, aren’t you?”
The expression on Lily’s face might have been a smile on anyone else, but on her, it looked more like a threat. “I know you didn’t come to talk about the dog.”
“No, I didn’t.” I straightened, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve heard a lot about you from my kids this week, Lily Townsend.”
