Page 36 of Single Dad Dilemma
“Are you saying people don’t like that? Weird. Maybe that’s why I don’t have any friends,” she mused. “Maybe I’ll work on my hissing technique,” she whispered, leaning in toward me like she was telling a secret. “Doyouhave friends, Mr. King?”
Before answering, I tried to count to ten. I made it to four. “I don’t have time for friends.”
To my utter surprise, Lily didn’t have a response to that. She merely sniffed, adjusting her long legs, crossing one over the other, the combat boot on her left leg bouncing slightly as we waited for the concert to start.
I recognized a couple of faces in the row in front of us. One of the dads from Maggie’s class glanced back and stared at Lily’s legs, his gaze slowly dragging up to her face, where it lingered. I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes in his direction, and as much as I wanted to stop the scowl on my face, there was no helping it.
He caught my expression and blinked guiltily, giving me a little wave and a lift of his eyebrows.
Lily made a small sound just shy of amused. Could’ve been annoyance, but it was hard to tell. “Now, why you’d do that? Maybe I wanted to talk to him afterward.”
Watch the fathers of my daughter’s classmates fawn over Lily in public? I’d rather shove bamboo splints under my fingernails.
It wasn’t jealousy. There was nothing to be jealous of. I tried telling that to the fire lodged under my ribs, but each deep breath seemed to inflame it more. God, she was driving me out of my fucking mind,one interaction at a time. A couple more weeks and I’d need to be institutionalized.
“Trying to make some new friends?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.
“Maybe.” She sniffed, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. It smelled like vanilla. Why the hell did she always smell like cookies? “He’s cute. I bet he likes to be smacked around a little, don’t you think?”
The not-jealous burning sensation flared hot. I’d trade half my savings account for some TUMS. I needed to ask Bridget to start stocking them in my desk.
“He’s a spineless little dweeb,” I said, keeping my voice remarkably even. “You’d eat him alive.”
“Maybe that’s exactly my type.”
Now it was my turn to stare at her profile while she looked ahead. “No, it’s not,” I said in a low voice.
Her throat worked on a swallow, a flicker in her brow that conveyed surprise, maybe? Yeah, join the club, Townsend; I was even surprising myself.
“How would you know?” she replied quietly. Not just quietly, but there was a split second of unsteadiness in her voice that sent an unholy streak of satisfaction screaming through my veins.
Satisfied for what, exactly? That I wasn’t the only one affected? I didn’t want to dwell on that for too much longer.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say something dangerous and stupid, like she needed a man who knew how to handle her. A man who wouldn’t try to tame her but wasn’t afraid of her either. A man who would take much, much longer than fifteen minutes.
But all those words stayed locked down, safe behind my well-honed discipline.
“He’s also married,” I said instead.
She made a disappointed clicking sound with her tongue. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Otherwise, I love a spineless dweeb.” Her face turned, hereyes locking on mine until my heart thundered in my ears. “They’re so malleable.”
Before I could respond, the lights dimmed, and the first class marched out onto the risers. Lily faced forward, tilting her chin up and focusing on the little faces in front of us like nothing had happened.
It took me thirty minutes to get my pulse under control, and my hands finally relaxed when Maggie’s class took the stage.
I couldn’t keep doing this. Even having her on the periphery of my life for another day felt like too much. Something needed to change.
Immediately.
Chapter Nine
Barrett
With my head down and my focus on the notes for my next meeting, I hardly noticed Bridget trying to flag me down. When I finally glanced up, I looked around her desk area. Heremptydesk area.
“Where are my kids?”
She set her hands on her hips. “You give me too much credit, boss. Maggie crashed the defensive-line meeting, and I haven’t seen her for at least an hour.” Her head tilted toward the office across the way from mine. “Bryce is in Mark’s office; he’s either asleep on the couch, or he’s helping him with play selections for our last game. Hard to say.”
