Page 41 of Broken Single Daddy's Baby

“You don’t have plans this week?” I ask her, hiding behind my coffee.

“Not this week,” she says breezily, as if it depends on the week.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t miss you?” I ask, and Kenna turns from the window to look at me.

She shrugs. “Who knows?”

That’s not an answer, and it’s making me feel even more hot under the collar, so I huff out a breath and get up, kissing the kids goodbye before walking out the door.

She’ll have a hard time trying to get them in the pool, but I don’t tell her that. Let her find out for herself.

When they were smaller, the pool was all they wanted to do, but as they got older it was all about screentime. I haven’t been able to get them to play outside for ages.

Maybe I’m being grumpy for no reason, but Kenna has to do trial and error just like I did.

At work, time seems to creep by. I keep watching the clock, waiting for five in the afternoon, even though I can really leave anytime I want to.

Being my own boss, essentially, means I have my own hours. But I know work needs to be done, and I need to stay until at least five.

I get out of the office at four-forty-five, unable to stand it any longer. When I arrive home, the house is empty and I walk out to the back patio, where Maggie is doing a cannonball into the pool with her floaties on and Kenna sits with Eli at the wading end, watching her and laughing.

Eli paddles into the pool when I walk around to the edge of it.

“Daddy, look! Kenna’s teaching me to swim!”

“You’re doing great, bud,” I call to him, and Maggie dog-paddles back to the ladder to jump in all over again, holding her nose.

Kenna stands up to face me and I try my best not to let my eyes scan down her body. The bikini isn’t inappropriate or anything, it covers everything important, but the lines of her body are hard to look away from. She’s curvy in all the right places but with athletic, long, coltish legs, and I’m beginning to get a headache from purposefully not looking down.

“So, you managed to get them in the pool,” I say to Kenna, and she grins.

“What kind of kids don’t like the pool?” she asks.

“My kids, usually,” I mumble. “You’re working wonders with them, Kenna.”

“Happy to do it,” she says. ”They’re great kids.”

I look at her, standing there in the sunlight in her bikini with water beaded on her body, and my mouth goes dry.

“I’ll get out of your hair after a shower,” Kenna says, and starts to walk inside. I take hold of her hand to stop her and she turns, surprise evident on her face.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner? I’ll cook something nice.”

She blinks at me. ”Well, okay. That’s an offer I can’t refuse. Your breakfast was so good last time.”

I give her a wide smile and tell the kids dinner will be ready in an hour.

I dig out some steaks I had deep in my refrigerator for the last few days, having neglected to cook them. I season them with a crust and grill them outside, making some quick boxed mashed potatoes and some canned vegetables to go with them. Although I can order out every meal I want, I like the idea of my kids having a homecooked meal most nights.

Kenna sniffs in the direction of the grill. Having shed my suit jacket and shirt, I’m now cooking in my slacks and bare feet.

“It smells amazing,” she praises.

“It’ll taste even better,” I promise, and indeed, it does. I have to say so myself that the steak is delectable, and even the boxed mashed potatoes are creamy and good.

The kids pick at the vegetables and eat cut up pieces of steak and mashed potatoes. They seem more well behaved, happier when Kenna is here. She’s really good for them, and when, late at night, I can’t stop thinking about her blue eyes, I remember that.

I can’t mess this up just because I’m attracted to her.

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