Page 74 of The Single Dad Project

“I’ve missed you,” her mother said, squeezing her waist. “The inn isn’t the same without you visiting. I’ve accepted you’ve moved out, and l had to come to terms with that. But not seeing you except for when I come into town? That’s not doing it for me.”

“I know.” Flo leaned her head against Moe’s. “I’ve just been busy with the renovation, the studio and babysitting Jussy. I promise to do better.”

Moe turned and cradled Flo’s face between her palms, tilting her head down so she could meet her blue, steady gaze.

“Don’t isolate yourself from us, Florence. Please,” she softly pleaded. “We can handle and overcome anything as a family.Anything. But being alone allows doubts, insecurities and fears to creep in. And they might convince you that your family isn’t behind you, loving you.” Moe shook her head, her long, brown-and-silver-streaked braid falling behind her shoulder. “And nothing could be further from the truth. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Flo assured her, covering Moe’s hands with her own.

She did. It was just that the heaviness of their expectations—especially her father’s—weighed her down, filled her with guilt. And she feared disappointing them,him. Feared hurting him.

Feared his rejection.

Briefly closing her eyes, she hugged Moe. Because in this moment, she needed the security of her mother’s arms around her. And to avoid that all-knowing, all-seeing gaze.

“Now I’m jealous,” her father announced from behind her. “Why does Moe get all the hugs?”

Joy at her father’s voice mingled with resentment and sorrow. God, she hated that her usual happiness and love had been polluted with those darker emotions. They had no place inside her—not when it came to Ian. But since Noah’s return, they’d taken root and their poisonous vines had grown, spread.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted, turning to Ian with a wide smile that belied the turmoil roiling inside her. “Now, you know there’s no need to be jealous. Not when you’re my favorite.”

“Disrespectful child,” Moe grumbled as Ian laughed.

A warmth bloomed behind Flo’s breastbone at the loud, rumbling sound of her father’s hilarity. Since she’d been a little girl, his laughter had always delighted her. Moe might be the gregarious and outgoing half of their pair, while he was a calming presence in the storm of his wife’s personality, but he possessed a booming laugh that turned heads.

And she loved it.

Loved him.

Ian gathered her into his arms, and for a moment all her worries and tensions tumbled away as if they never existed. She inhaled his familiar soap-and-crisp-fresh-air scent and pressed her cheek to his wide chest. Yes, she was a daddy’s girl—that could possibly be attributed to her first father figure so abruptly leaving. As a result, she’d attached to Ian.

Or it could be that Ian Seamus Dennison was just an amazing man and dad.

Her deep love for him only made the anger that simmered within her more painful.

“I thought we agreed not to say that in front of your mother,” Ian admonished with a chuckle.

“Oops.”

Planting a kiss on her forehead, Ian released her, stepping back. “It’s good to see you, Flo.”

“You, too, Dad.”

“Hi, Flo.”

She stiffened. And her father, with his arm still around her shoulders, felt her reaction because his half embrace tightened. Her belly did the same thing, twisting until it ached.

“Hi... Noah.”

She still stumbled over what to call him. He wasn’t her uncle; she could never think of him that way like her brothers and sisters. Not when he’d been the first father she’d known. But she couldn’t call him by the same name she called Ian either. Ian had raised her, nurtured her, corrected her when she needed it and, most importantly, he’d stayed. So no, Noah didn’t get Dad or Daddy, either.

So she settled on Noah, even though it felt odd on her tongue. Because it felt too impersonal, like addressing a stranger. And though he was a stranger...he also wasn’t.

Which perhaps explained why she drank in the weathered lines on his face, the gray peppering in his dark hair and the familiar blue-gray eyes.

God, no wonder confusion whirled inside her.

An awkward, stilted silence descended over the four of them, and it remained like an unwanted intruder.

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