Page 19 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

Gathering shreds of dignity around me like pieces of an unraveled sweater, I march back into my bedroom and slam the door, just for punctuation.

Shit.

Shit.

Now what do I do? I can’t exactly hide out in here. I have about ten minutes until I am supposed to make a bottle for Harmony. She’s going to wake up any minute also. Probably already has with my door slam.

Dammit.

Shit.

You know what? Screw it. They don’t even know what they are missing. Dumb boys.

Seriously.

Shit.

I march over to my mirror and stare at myself for a moment. I’m hot. Well, pretty hot. Perhaps a little bit easier to resist that I want to admit to myself.

But… look. Boobs. Hair. Legs. What else could they ask for?

I give myself a good hard stare. I have to do this. I have to go back out there.

Emily’s voice starts pinballing through the back of my head. I can’t quit. I can’t get fired, either, she reminds me.

This is the best job I ever had. I managed to save up some money. Not enough money to leave, but a little bit. More than I ever had before.

And the kids are great. And I am good at this.

And those boys do not know what they are missing.

Fine. I will be the adult here. I am just gonna march back out there and do my job.

Noting that I can definitely still see my nipples through my shirt, I walk right back to my door and out into the game room. I’m just going to be professional! I have work to do!

To my surprise, the guys all have their shirts back on. Boone has Cole up on a barstool in the kitchen and is slicing carrot sticks. Harrison and Ambrose are playing a video game on the giant TV screen in the corner of the room. Football.

Holding myself as gracefully as possible, I just walk into the kitchen with my chin stuck up high and grab a bottle from the cabinet. I get a pot of water simmering so I can warm up the formula for Harmony. She likes to have a bottle after her afternoon nap, even though she is quickly adjusting to baby food from a spoon.

She likes peaches and butternut squash.

I have that sick feeling in my stomach that I’m going to turn around and they’re going to be staring at me again. We’re going to have to talk about it or something. But that is not what happens.

When I turn around, Boone doesn’t even look at me. Harrison and Ambrose are busy.

I pull the warmed bottle out of the saucepan and dry it on a kitchen towel, then slink back toward Harmony’s room, promising myself to just be brave, and try to forget this ever happened.

Chapter 8

JOLENE

In the morning, I was having a dream about butterflies, I think, something really nice. Something about wildflowers and spring on the side of Signal Mountain, right after the annual rains. Really nice.

And then the butterflies turned into dragonflies. And then the dragonflies turned into bees. A million of them. Buzzing everywhere. So loud they obliterated everything else.

And I wake up, and the buzzing continues.

It takes me a bunch of minutes to realize that it’s my cell phone. My texts are going crazy.

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