Page 55 of The Single Dad Project

“I appreciate that.” A smile lit his face, slowly spreading as Justine glanced up, caught sight of them and raced across the lawn. He knelt, opening his arms, and his daughter flew into them, embracing him as if they’d last seen each other a day ago instead of a half hour. It was both corny and immensely...heartwarming. “I’m headed back to work, Jussy. Keep being good for Flo, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She looked up and grinned at Flo. “I’ve been good, right, Flo?”

“The best, Jussy,” Flo agreed. “Ready to go get some more pictures?”

“Yep!” She smacked a kiss on Adam’s cheek then skipped back over to the tripod and camera bags. “C’mon, Flo!”

“I’m being summoned,” Flo drawled.

“You better get to it, then,” Adam said, standing. “Thanks again, Flo.”

“You’re welcome, Adam.”

With another long look that had her fighting back a rush of heat to her face and other body parts farther south, he turned and walked back toward the house. Leaving her to wonder if she had done a good thing by helping out.

Or if she’d made the biggest mistake outside of taking Adam Reed home.

Either way, she was in too deep.

“ISEEYOU’VEalready learned one of our secret treasures here in Rose Bend.” Flo picked up her plate and followed Adam into the kitchen, setting the dish in the sink as he threw the grease-spotted empty pizza box in the trash.

He smirked, a flash of surprise flickering through him as she twisted the faucets, running water in the sink. It’d been years since someone else washed dishes in his house—even before Jennifer left. Domestic duties fell on him, and to watch someone else take them up, particularly without him asking, took him aback for a second.

“You mean Morelli’s Pizzeria?” He snorted. “I don’t think you can call it a secret if half the town was crowded in there, waiting on their order.”

“It’s not a secret to us here in Rose Bend,” she pointed out, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “But to the rest of you outside of our town limits, well...”

The corner of her mouth twitched with an almost smile, and he dragged his gaze up from that too-tempting enticement back to her eyes.

“Do I need to sign a pact in blood that this all remains hush-hush?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, I’m notnotsaying you shouldn’t...”

Chuckling, he walked over to the sink, gently bumping her shoulder. Flo shifted over, reaching for the dish detergent and squeezing the liquid into the water. They worked in silent and surprisingly comfortable tandem, washing up the few dishes the three of them had used for dinner. On the counter’s corner a baby monitor emitted the sounds from Justine’s room as she sang to herself and played with her toys.

It should worry him how happy his little girl had been tonight with Flo in their home. Justine had always seemed well-adjusted—maybe a little too well-adjusted to the circumstances of the divorce and her mother’s leaving, if he was honest—but this evening, snuggled right up against Flo’s side as she ate pizza and chattered away, it was the most relaxed and...contented he’d seen her in a long while.

Yeah, it should worry him... And later, it probably would. But right now, with his baby girl’s carefree singing echoing in the kitchen and the suspected source of that contentment drying dishes next to him, he couldn’t bring himself to question it.

“You have plans for the rest of your evening?” he asked as she passed him the last plate and he moved to put it up in the cabinet.

“Editing some pictures,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Jussy and I usually watch a movie a couple of days a week after dinner. Fair warning, it’s her choice so that could be anything fromThe Princess and the FrogtoThe Wiz.”

“The Wiz, huh?” Flo arched an eyebrow. “That’s an oldie.”

“What can I say? My daughter is a lover of the classics.” He snorted. “And Michael Jackson as the Scarecrow doesn’t hurt, either.”

“I don’t know.” Flo scrunched up her nose, propping a hip against the edge of the counter and crossing her arms. “Unpopular opinion ahead, but the Wicked Witch was always my favorite character. I mean, nobody would dare bring that woman bad news. That’s some serious influence right there.”

“Hell yeah, that’s an unpopular opinion. She tried to kill Dorothy.”

“Meh.” Flo twisted her hand back and forth. “She was just a little misunderstood. Powerful women always are.”

Adam paused, stared at her. “Has anyone ever used the term ‘morally gray’ to describe you?”

She snickered. “You flatterer, you.” Pushing off the counter, she stepped forward. “If that’s an offer—or a warning—to stay and watch a movie with you, then I accept. And I’m really pulling for Diana Ross and Michael Jackson.”

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