Risking Her Heart on the Single Dad

by Annie O'Neil

  He caught her funny look and explained. “My daughter picked the color. She said it reminded her of Pippi Longstocking’s hair.” He gave a what can you do? shrug.

  It was a micro insight into a man who clearly liked to keep his private life just that. Private.

  His eyes lingered for a moment on the car, as if he were seeing it anew, and the hint of a smile appeared. Against her better judgement, a little part of her melted. But she had a very strict rule: Do not find adorable things fathers say about their daughters adorable.

  The idea of falling in love with a single dad—if he even was single—was... Oof! It would be inserting herself into a permanent reminder that she would never be enough. Then add on the fact she’d never live up to the ex—because no matter how awful she’d been, she’d produced a child. And, as her own ex’s extremely quick marriage to a woman she would never have imagined him marrying, and subsequent rapid-fire arrival of three children proved, love was conditional.

  So, no, thank you very much Mr. Hot-Maybe-Single-Maybe-Divorced-Dad. You carry on being all cantankerous and edgy. Suits me to a T.

  They climbed into the car. Ty maneuvered it out of the parking spot, out of the subterranean carpark and out into the golden early-evening sun.

  Her eyes drifted toward his hands on the steering wheel. Still no ring. No divot, even. So definitely not married. Dating or divorced it was, then!

  Ty pulled the car onto the freeway with a comment about Chuck’s Charcoal Heaven being twenty-odd minutes down the road before clicking on the radio. Excellent. Small talk was out. Less chance of her putting her foot in it.

  It was a kids’ channel. There was a song on about a penguin going for a swim with a dolphin. She couldn’t help it. She cackled.

  Ty shot her a look. Either he hadn’t been listening or this was his playlist.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. Is this one of your favorites?”

  He frowned at the radio, then that soft smile hit again. “My daughter’s.”

  Kirri laughed, then spoke without thinking. “Your daughter seems to wield a lot of power in your household. What else is she in charge of?”

  Ty’s grip on the wheel had tightened along with his jaw.

  The look she received this time was barbed. It delivered a message she knew all too well. The back off, you’re not her parent look.

  She’d clearly overstepped. A blunt reminder of why she avoided lusting after men who had children.

  Frustratingly, she felt the sting of tears tease at the back of her throat. Nothing like being put in her place by a kid she’d never met.

  The over-familiar lash of self-flagellation whipped into play. Why had she made that stupid comment? It wasn’t Ty’s fault she couldn’t have children. Parents were meant to be protective. It wasn’t her place to comment on how he and his child did things. Not her place at all.

  She forced herself into a more useful line of thinking. She should be asking all the usual questions. What’s her name? How old is she? Is her mom meeting us there or are you single and free for a bit of a snog later?

  She axed that last one with a bit of a smirk, but felt her heart sink all the same. Not only did she struggle speaking to parents about their offspring, she really struggled making chit-chat with their children. Babies were cool. Before two they couldn’t really talk. And over eighteen they were much more difficult to imagine giving birth to. Everything in between: #itscomplicated.

  Ty moved his hand to the radio to change the channel, then obviously had a change of heart and switched it off entirely.

  After a moment’s exceedingly awkward silence he gave her a quick glance. “Apologies. I barely notice the music. I tend to let Lulu pick the things she cares about, and I pick the things I care about, and as such my life doesn’t often look the way it should for a thirty-nine-year-old man.”

  She snorted. “There’s a look that goes with being thirty-nine? I wish someone had told me that earlier. I’ve only got two years to figure out what it is!”

  His lips twitched into a smile. “Perhaps not, but I suspect it wouldn’t involve ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’ on a loop. Or bright orange cars.”

  “Oh, I don’t know...” Kirri felt herself warming to the subject. “I’m sure the powers that be would happily make an entire line of orange vehicles because of the fleets of children who adore Pippi Longstocking. As a sort of redhead, you can count me amongst the converted.”

  She was a Pippi aficionado, so could happily discuss her for hours should the need arise.

  “Noted,” said Ty, and nodded, that smile of his still playing on his lips.

  Mercy, he was sexy when he wasn’t frowning, and even then...

  “You’ll have to forgive me, Kirri. I shouldn’t have been short with you. It’s not the way I normally treat new colleagues when I take them out for barbecue.”

  She gasped in fake horror. “You take all the new kids in town out for barbecue? And here I was thinking I was special.”

  His eyes flicked to hers, the gold glints flaring as they connected, then he turned back to the road. Uh-oh. She’d possibly gone a bit OTT on the buddy-buddy thing.

  He finally spoke. “Only the extra-talented ones who get caught in the rain.”

  A warm swirl of relief and something else a whole lot saucier twirled through her. He thought she was talented. She knew she was talented, but to hear it from Ty felt special. He didn’t strike her as a doling out compliments kind of guy. She gave a silent cheer whilst trying her very best to keep her grin contained.

  “Why don’t you pick a channel?” Ty turned the radio on again.

  “You go ahead. Your car. Your tunes.”

  “No, honestly...”

  Ty’s voice was laced with that dry humor she was beginning to get used to.

  “If Stella hasn’t told you already, she will no doubt volunteer the information that I have a tendency to get stuck in my ways.”

  He gave his jaw a scrub, as if considering whether or not to plump for a bit of spontaneity. He gave a solid nod. Decided.

  “Why don’t you liven things up? Pick something you’d listen to in your car.”

  Now she felt stupid. If he had a girlfriend surely she wouldn’t choose kids’ radio? Not if she wanted to get a ring on her finger, she wouldn’t. But if she was sure of anything about Ty it was that if you wanted him you got a package deal. Any man who bought a bright orange car and listened to penguin songs was a devoted daddy.

  She thought of the possibly imaginary girlfriend doing Lulu’s hair. Helping her into her jim-jams at night. Reading her a chapter or two of Pippi before turning out the light with a kiss and a murmured, “Sweet dreams.” Then she forced herself to stop.

  Could loving someone else’s child feel the same as loving one of her own?

  She looked at Ty’s striking profile. He was all strong-jawed, five o’clock shadowed and cheekbone-tastic. His hair was too short to give her the completely insane excuse to brush some of it away from his eyes, but it was tempting.

  Who was she kidding? Everything about Ty Sawyer was tempting. She was already wondering about loving a child she’d never met, for heaven’s sake!

  She turned to look out the window and fuzzed her lips. Falling for him was utterly ridiculous. A pipe dream. Up until now her love life had pretty much consisted of just that. Pipe dreams and delusion juice.

  Love had been conditional in her family. Entirely merit-based. Behave impeccably. Be the captain of the team. Be the best in your class. It was all she knew. Work and work and prove her worth and still the cuddles from her mother were nothing to look forward to. They were of the weird patting variety that made her feel as if her mother was only doing it because she’d read about it in a manual. And hugs from her father...? Non-existent.

  “Go on. Pick a channel, Kirri.”

  Kirri snapped out of her fug and
scanned along the digital options until she landed on a pop music channel.

  Ty arched an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the road. “Is this what you listen to back home?”

  “It’s my guilty pleasure.” She sang a few bars, did a couple of silly hand-moves, then sat back in the seat and hummed along until the song ended and another began.

  Once again silence fell between them, but this time it felt more...alive. Electric, even. The kind of electricity that hummed between two people who were attracted to each other. A turbo-charged frustration.

  Half of her wanted to scream, Pull over now, jump him and make crazy spontaneous love. The other half wanted to shout at him for being so damn quiet.

  Shouldn’t he be giving her helpful cues about working at Piedmont? Or, more pressingly, about his daughter? Little pointers about what she was like. Things she liked to talk about. Favorite unicorn. Stuffed toy. Whether or not he was single and why he wasn’t spelling out what the arrangements were with his daughter’s mom. That sort of thing.

  But, no. Just the odd glance that sent her belly into lava lamp mode.

  After a few more songs he put on the indicator and left the freeway. “We’re just a couple of minutes away now.”

  “How is your daughter getting there?”

  “Oh, my sisters are bringing her. Or my parents. I can’t remember. One of them.”

  Kirri gave a double-take. “You invited your family?”

  Hilarious. She’d heard of inviting wingmen along, or at least arranging to get a tactically timed phone call ten minutes in, or in her case faking a page—but inviting his whole family along? That was a new one on her. Then again, perhaps it was genius. Adult buffers right there on site if she went all mealy-mouthed on herself and couldn’t talk.

  “My parents and my two older sisters will be there. The two younger ones are busy.”

  “One boy growing up with four sisters? It’s a wonder your car isn’t pink.”

  He shot her a glance. “Don’t you dare say something like that in front of them.”

  She gave him a try me face.

  “Honestly. There is nothing they will not try once a seed is planted. You’ll see.”

  A few minutes later she did.

  Ty’s family were absolutely wonderful. His parents and his older sisters were indeed there. No girlfriend, fiancée or “family friend”. And then there was Lulu. Six years old, the spit of her father and absolutely charming. Lulu Sawyer was officially the first child between two and eighteen to bust Kirri’s I-can’t-talk-to-you record.

  She had a thousand questions about Australia and then some.

  “And it’s like summer at Christmas?”

  “It isn’t just like summer—it is summer!”

  “So...” Her little button nose crinkled adorably. “What do you eat after you open your presents?”

  Her family weren’t much for celebrations, so they usually went to a restaurant—“to give your mother a day off in the kitchen.” Her father was simply made of largesse.

  She squelched the truth and told Lulu about what other, normal people did. “We have exactly what you have. Turkey and all the trimmings. Others have barbecue. Seafood, usually.”

  “It sounds amazing. Papa, do you think we should go one day?” Lulu beamed up at him and batted her lashes.

  Ah. Now she knew why their car was orange.

  Ty gave a vague nod, then suddenly became intent on plucking everyone a napkin out of the silver holder.

  Half an hour later Kirri was seeing sides of Ty she wouldn’t have believed existed. One of America’s most innovative surgeons by day, adoring father and much loved son by night. She felt like she was in a sitcom. The really good kind that you wished would never ever end.

  The Sawyers were the type of bonkers family she had always dreamed about being a part of. Everyone talked over each other, laughed with each other and very clearly loved one another, despite their different personalities.

  Ty was dipping in and out of his role as the strong, silent type, as well as laughing and joking along with his family. But whenever his gaze crept her way it was with all-penetrating looks she was finding harder and harder to read.

  She would have thought the sparky hits of connection they’d experienced in the car would disappear once Ty’s family absorbed them into the huge booth at Chuck’s, but no. They just got sparkier.

  “Pass the butter, please.”

  Zing!

  “Would you mind handing the hot sauce over?”

  Fizz.

  Frisson-laced reminders of that very first time they’d literally crossed paths. Fireworks went off each time their eyes met. Scary, exciting and utterly captivating. He didn’t even have to look at her for her tummy to go all flip-floppy with pleasure.

  She glanced over and caught Lulu beaming up at him. She bumped the tip of her index finger against his nose in a gesture that clearly meant I love you, Papa.

  And from the soft smile he unleashed when he tousled her dark hair and gave her a little half-squeeze Kirri instinctively knew it was his way of saying I love you, too, Lulu. With all my heart.

  It was the type of bond nothing and no one could ever break. It was the type of love she ached for.

  Kirri looked away and focused on Ty’s parents—Marina and Henry. They were having a spirited conversation about a local baseball team. In their early seventies, she couldn’t imagine a more charming couple. Gracious, fun-loving and completely relaxed. They were, in short, the complete opposite of her own parents.

  Before she could stop herself she blurted, “Thank you so much for including me on your night out. This is my first proper Southern meal since I’ve arrived.”

  Ty’s mother’s hands flew to her chest as she gasped. “Well, that’s just terrible. Henry? Did you hear that? This poor girl’s been here all weekend and not had a proper meal.” She clucked and wagged her finger at her son. “Ty, you shoulda told us you had a special guest. We would’ve made a proper fuss over her.”

  “She’s not spe—”

  Kirri bit back a pained grin as Ty all but stuffed his actual foot into his mouth.

  “Ty!” His mother swatted at him. “Manners!”

  His sisters tsked and his father threw him a questioning look.

  They all knew where that sentence had been going.

  She’s not special.

  It was a sentiment that shot her straight back to the way her father had made her feel as he’d goaded Lucius on to higher and higher academic success. Sidelined. Unworthy. Hungry for approval she knew she’d never get. Little wonder, considering her father was straight out of the nineteen-fifties Distant Father Handbook. Sexist, not entirely politically correct, and utterly driven to make her brother a “proper man” by tearing him down bit by bit and then sitting back to watch as Lucius gathered the pieces and tried to put himself together again.

  “And here’s the first of it, Dr. Sawyer.”

  A server appeared, a big smile on his face, his arms weighted with two platters laden with unctuous looking ribs.

  Saved by the barbecue!

  * * *

  The Sawyer family applauded their approval as the server slipped an enormous slab of ribs on the table. Everyone except for Ty. He was still beating himself up about that stupid comment.

  She’s not special.

  Of course Kirri was special. Talented, inquisitive, fun-loving and utterly beautiful, to name just a few reasons.

  Special enough to take a risk with his heart?

  He grabbed a rib and let the flavor explosion drown out that particular line of thinking. He was happy as he was. Forward-thinking, groundbreaking surgeon at work—steady, reliable, chino-wearing dad the rest of the time. It was Stella’s fault for planting that ridiculous seed about having an affair. He checked that thought, too. It wasn’t Stella’s fault. It w
as his for giving it air.

  “Sure that’s enough for you, honey? You’re our guest and we want to make sure you feel real special.”

  Ty’s sister Patsy sent him a pointed look as she reached for one of the ribs herself. She was the eldest of his two older sisters, both as warm and welcoming as the next. He’d stupidly been hoping they would do what they normally did whenever they met a single woman—talk about all of the men they could set her up with. But, no. They just kept talking about how fabulous Ty was when he wasn’t sticking his foot in it. As if they were in some sort of conspiracy with Stella.

  Did everyone want him to start dating? Or did everyone want him to date Kirri?

  “This is amazing,” Kirri said, a bit of sauce trickling down her wrist. “I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough.”

  At just that moment she stuck out her tongue to lick the sauce off. Her eyes met Ty’s and the statement took on a whole new meaning. Hope, fear, wonder and a thousand more emotions were reflected back at him. What shone through most brightly was that neither of them was on familiar territory and that both of them were feeling the same thing: curiosity...

  An energy charge shot straight down to his bootstraps. Stella was right. His sisters were right. It was time to take a risk, because for the first time since Gemma had died the person was right.

  Kirri was completely different from Gemma, but he didn’t need to see a grief counsellor to know that searching for the same type of woman to replace his dearly departed wife would only end in tears. How could a man replace his childhood sweetheart? He couldn’t. But perhaps he could find it in his heart to love someone completely new. Someone like Kirri.

  For the next six weeks, anyway.

  Kirri blinked and all the questions in those blue eyes of hers were replaced with a light, bright smile.

  Perhaps a fun fling was exactly what the doctor ordered. What was the worst that could happen? She’d say no, they’d get on with their jobs and then she’d go back to Australia? Fine. Then he could slip back into the status quo and go on for another five years without anyone pushing him to leave his comfort zone.