Page 34 of The Single Dad Project

Clenching his teeth, he shifted in his seat and stared at Flo Dennison. At the sound of his little girl screaming her name, she turned away from the older lady behind the counter and grinned at Justine, the gesture reflected in her pretty brown eyes.

He’d just seen her a couple of hours ago when filming and construction for the day crew had wrapped, but she didn’t look as if she’d just worked an entire day capturing image after image of an intensely paced renovation. Her locs hung, healthy and thick, around her shoulders and down her back. A formfitting gray cropped sweater and loose, wide-legged pants might have appeared like a bohemian mess on someone else, but on her? She could’ve walked a catwalk and orders would’ve poured in with demands for the outfit. Long, teardrop hoops brushed her slender shoulders as she crossed the diner toward them. Unbidden, his mind drifted to a memory of how a similar pair of earrings had looked grazing her bare shoulders with those beautiful locs spread across her pillow.

Maybe she felt his regard, because she flicked a cool gaze toward him. Yeah, Flo Dennison held one hell of a grudge. Today, Monday, marked the second full week of them working together, and he could count on one hand the number of times she’d had a conversation with him. And those had been perfunctory as hell. To everyone else, she was cordial and friendly, but him?

How do you say, “Get fucked” without saying “Get fucked”?

Ask Flo, because she’d perfected it.

“Hey, Jussy,” Flo greeted, reaching their table. “How’re you doing, sweetie? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hi, Flo!” Justine beamed. “I’ve missed you! Why’re you here?”

“Jussy, inside voice. Remember?” Adam softly reminded her.

He loved her—her and her bullhorn volume.

Amusement stained Flo’s tone as she smiled at his daughter.

“I’m picking up dinner.”

“Thank you for not telling her to mind her business,” he drawled.

“Daddy!” Justine scowled at him.

He shrugged. “You’re being nosy, baby girl.”

“No, I’m not. I’m not, right, Flo?” She tipped her head back, poking her lip out and giving Flo the saddest look possible.

“Um...” Flo bit her bottom lip, shooting a look at Adam, and for once, humor gleamed there instead of the usual indifference or annoyance. “You are kinda up in my business, but the fact that you’re adorable is working for you.” She laughed, pulling on one of Justine’s ponytails.

“Daddy says you won’t know if you don’t ask,” Justine opined, and Adam silently groaned, because yeah, he had said that.

Nice time for her to become a parrot.

“Is that so?” Flo smirked, sliding him side-eye. “Well, there you go.”

Justine smiled again, and it lit up her face. “You should eat with us,” she announced, returning to shouting. “Can she, Daddy? Can Flo eat dinner with us?”

Well, shit.

He should’ve seen where this was headed. Justine possessed a fascination with Flo, and she’d only seen her a couple of times since they temporarily moved to Rose Bend. Although, he couldn’t blame his daughter. Hell, he worked with Flo almost every day, and an attraction that should’ve dissipated with exposure seemed to grow every time she looked through him or gave him short, to-the-point answers that edged the line of rude.

And yet... Yet, he couldn’t call a halt to this preoccupation with that sensually full mouth that sported a small silver hoop through the left corner of her bottom lip, drawing even more attention to the plump curve. Couldn’t stop the fall into a borderline obsession with her delicate, almost elfin bone structure or the elegantly arched, dark brows over thickly lashed brown eyes.

Yeah, while his fascination might be covert and unwelcome, he still couldn’t blame Justine for hers.

Didn’t mean he wanted to sit down and break bread with Flo, either.

Only distance would cure this self-inflicted malady.

“I’m sure Flo is busy, bab—”

“Sure, I would, Jussy,” Flo damn near purred, and when he slid a glance up at her, the smile she wore could’ve sliced him to pieces.

Sliding in next to Justine, Flo set down the shoulder bag she carried then carefully adjusted the booster seat, and whatever she whispered to his daughter had her giggling. He tried not to stare at them. Tried not to let his imagination wander to a place it didn’t need to go. Tried not to allow his mind to create a longing that had nowhere to go.

“Hey, Grace,” she called to the older Black woman behind the counter. “I’m going to change my order for here instead of to-go.”

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