Page 56 of The Single Dad Project

The warmth that bloomed in his chest had a shade of unease skittering down his spine like a drunk spider. But denial had apparently become a part of his daily repertoire and once again, he shoved the feeling aside, focusing on the here and now. And in the here and now, he couldn’t come up with a reason why he shouldn’t grab a couple more hours watching his daughter smile and hearing her unfettered laughter.

Or an excuse not to sit there for a couple more hours and pretend that Flo’s scent, just the sight of her, didn’t affect him.

“Let me go get Jussy, and you prepare to grovel.” He dipped his chin toward the kitchen entrance and the direction of the living room. “Good part is I think you have more of an in with her than I do. So your chances of Team No Bad News look good.”

Flo grinned, and the blood in his veins transformed to molten lava.

Shit.

He might have to let her and Justine have the couch and make sure he sat in the armchair upwind of her. Hell, even catching a hint of that jasmine-and-cedarwood fragrance would have his control threatening to unravel.

Goddamn. Bricking up while in the same room with his daughter wasnota shining example of fatherhood.

“You have chips or ice cream?” Flo asked. “I get the feeling she’s susceptible to bribery—”

His cell phone vibrated, and he paused, removing it from his pocket. It was almost seven, too late for anyone to be calling him. Unless it was Addie. A sliver of disquiet crept through him. Had something else happened with their father—

He lifted the cell, peering down at the screen. And from one second to the next, trepidation switched to annoyance.

Jennifer.

His jaw clenched, and anger flared hot and bright in his chest before he quickly doused it. But he couldn’t deny its existence. One day, just the glimpse of his ex-wife’s name on a caller ID would only stir apathy. Today wasn’t that day.

Then again, there might come a time when his ex would adhere to the court-ordered visitation and call schedule and not completely eschew it in favor of whatever camping trip, man or moon cycle caught her fancy.

But also, today wasn’t that day.

Guilt swarmed low in his gut like a hive of angry bees. Jennifer was Justine’s mother. No matter his personal feelings about her neglectful and selfish behavior, that fact always had to come first. Justine hadn’t asked to be brought into this world...hadn’t gotten a chance to choose her parents. So their responsibility was to make this transition into co-parenting as seamless and painless as possible.

Repeating that over and over to himself like a mantra, Adam pressed the screen, answering the call.

“Jennifer,” he greeted his ex-wife, his tone even, almost flat.

Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention, and he glanced toward the kitchen entrance. Dammit. The unexpected call had distracted him, momentarily making him forget Flo hadn’t completely left the room.

If guilt churned in his stomach, shame congealed the ugly mess. Logically, it didn’t make sense. His absentee ex-wife wasn’t his fault; he couldn’t make her be there for her daughter. But a small, secret part of him blamed himself. Becausehe’dchosen Jennifer.He’dmarried her.He’dfailed in keeping his family happy—in keeping them together.

“Hey, Adam,” Jennifer chirped. “How’re you?”

The lighthearted tone, as if it hadn’t beenmonthssince they’d last heard from her, grated on his nerves, and he ground his teeth together to imprison the caustic response that seemed to burn a hole on his tongue.

“Fine. Let me get Jussy. I’m sure she’ll be glad to talk to you.”

At least he hoped that was the case. Sometimes he wondered if his ex-wife would one day become a non-factor in their daughter’s everyday life, and the heaviness of that possibility weighed on him.

“Thanks. I can’t wait to speak to my baby,” Jennifer said.

Jesus. By the time he finished trapping everything he wanted to say, he might not have any enamel left.

Lowering the phone, he tightened his grip on it, taking a moment to inhale a deep breath. He couldn’t go into Justine’s room looking like rage personified. Fuck if her mother knew, but no way in hell would he scare Justine.

Sliding Flo a glance, he took in her impassive expression and for a second, he paused, wondering what she had gleaned from the abbreviated side of his conversation? Did she judge him?

Hell, why not? He did.

Like father, like son. Like father, like son.

The indictment scrolled through his head, a sly taunt that followed him like a group of bullying kids as he nodded at Flo and moved past her, heading down the hall to Justine’s room.

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