Heart Surgeon to Single Dad

“We don’t mind, do we?” Carrie looked up at him expectantly, making him feel a jerk for having let her think there was any hope of Natalie going with them. Why had he?

Because whether he wanted to or not, he liked the idea of Natalie going with them. She’d seemed comfortable with Carrie, as though she knew what she was doing while she’d been sitting next to her looking at her tablet.

“We want to make new friends, right?” the child continued. “I could show you more of my game. There are more dresses with mermaid tails!”

Natalie was looking downright panicked. Matthew toyed with the idea of letting her off the hook, but he was curious as to why Carrie was so eager for her to go with them. Other than with regard to his mother, sister and nieces, she’d not shown interest in making new friends or getting to know anyone. Until Natalie. Go figure.

“That’s right,” he agreed. “Plus, I owe you for sitting with my favorite fashionista.”

“I was only here for, like, five minutes,” Natalie rushed to clarify. “Ten at the most. You owe me nothing.”

Her comment reminded him of her teasing in Miami. He’d liked owing Natalie because the paying up had been a lot of fun.

“Please?” Carrie pleaded in her most appealing voice, the one Matthew hadn’t learned to say no to. “He’ll take us to get really great food...” She named the restaurant they’d visited way too often over the past few weeks. Matthew didn’t normally eat fast food, but apparently kids loved it.

Natalie’s nose wrinkled and she frowned at him. “Not a very healthy choice for a four-year-old, is it?”

Probably not, but he’d just been so grateful when Carrie had started eating again that he’d fed her whatever she wanted. Still, as a cardiologist, he knew the dangers of too much high-fat, low-nutrition food and should have been making Carrie eat healthy. Another thing to feel guilty over.

Carrie turned pleading eyes toward Natalie. “Please say you’ll go. You can pick the restaurant.”

Still Natalie hesitated. If she could have thought of a way to get out of going, she would have. That was written all over her face.

Sensing Natalie was about to make a break for it, Carrie launched into a new plea. “I’ll be extra-good and eat something healthy. I promise!”

“You’re always extra-good.” Matthew tugged on her lopsided ponytail, wondering how it had worked loose when he’d thought he’d finally gotten it right. Then again, she acted as if he were ripping her hair out every time he brushed it or went to pull it up. He wouldn’t take back his comment, though. She’d dealt with so much that he figured a little acting out here and there was normal.

Carrie lifted her big eyes to Natalie again. “Please. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

* * *

How had Natalie gotten manipulated into this? She still wasn’t quite sure. The last two people on earth she wanted to be having dinner with were Matthew and his daughter.

She wasn’t sure Matthew wanted her there any more than she wanted to be there.

Yet she sat at the organic food restaurant, eating kale chips and freshly made salsa one after another to give her hands something to do while observing Matthew with Carrie.

He obviously loved the girl. Which seemed an odd thing to think. Of course Matthew loved his daughter.

The girl obviously adored him as well.

But there was something about their relationship that didn’t feel quite right, almost an awkwardness in how Matthew regarded her and how she regarded him. Still, Carrie truly had been well-behaved, had listened closely to her menu options but then let Natalie choose her meal for her, promising to eat every bite.

They’d been at the restaurant about fifteen minutes when the child dropped a bombshell that caused Natalie to almost choke on a chip.

“My mommy and daddy died in an airplane crash and I live with Uncle Matthew now.” The child kept talking, very matter-of-fact, but Natalie didn’t catch anything else she said.

Just that her mommy and daddy had died.

Which brought back some terrible memories of her own, and gave Natalie a whole new empathy for the girl. Eyes blurring, she took a drink of her water, wishing she’d ordered something a lot stiffer, then offered, “I’m sorry about your mom and dad. My parents died when I was young, too.”

Why had she offered that last tidbit? Matthew didn’t need to know about her sordid childhood. Nor did she need to form any connection with this child.

“Did they die in a plane crash?” Carrie asked at the same time as Matthew’s leg brushed up against her from across the table and he said,

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want anything from him. Or Carrie. Just...