Single Daddy (The Single Brothers 1)

“Did you work out the roommate problem?” asked Lola from farther down the table. She had Monica and Zoe’s long black hair, but her eyes were the same brown their father’s had been, while Zoe shared Monica’s vibrant green.

Zoe wondered why she had noticed suddenly how grown up her sister looked, but realized it was because she was focusing on her own progression too. She was twenty-one and out of college. About to start a career, she was a woman in the eyes of the world.

So why did sitting beside Hale still leave her feeling like an awkward teenager?

“Hello, Earth to Zoe?”

“Huh?” She blinked, focusing on Lola again. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you worked out the roommate problem?”

“What roommate problem?” asked Hale, sounding only politely disinterested.

“My friend and I had planned to share an apartment in New York, at least for the summer, but her plans have changed.”

“The city is so expensive,” said Monica, looking worried. “And Zoe is too stubborn to accept help.”

“I’m an adult, Mom, and I need to pay my own way.” Zoe couldn’t explain to her mother why she was reluctant to take money from Andy. He was a great guy and had been a good father figure the past six years, but it just felt wrong to take his money. She thought she would have felt the same if her mother had been offering the funds, or if Sam Halston had left anything besides debt behind for his wife and daughters.

“Stay with me,” said Hale.

“What?” asked Zoe and Andy in unison.

“Really?” asked Lola, looking enthused. “That would be neat, huh, Zoe?”

“Neat,” she agreed with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

Andy wiped his mouth. “That sounds like a bad idea to me, Hale.”

Hale stared at his father for a second before lifting a hand. “I should clarify that Zoe would be staying in my apartment, but I won’t be there. I’m in the middle of a delicate deal and will spend most of the summer in Europe.” He turned to her, flashing her that smile that had charmed panties off girls since he was old enough to use it for that purpose. “You’d be doing me a favor, sis.”

She shuddered at the word, but forced herself to sound normal. “How’s that?”

“I’d planned to hire a pet sitter to take care of Bomber while I’m away.”

Zoe didn’t try to fight the smile that bloomed on her face. “You still have that old cat?”

“Heck, yeah. Bomber’s my mate…pal.” A touch of red at his ears was adorable in an alarming way, making her heart race. “Too long among the Brits, I guess.”

“You do have a touch of the accent,” said his grandmother.

“How much for the rent?” asked Lola, ever-practical even at sixteen. She was an accountant trapped in a Goth girl’s body.

“Nothing, of course. What kind of creep charges family, especially since Zoe would be doing me a favor by taking care of Bomber?”

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Monica before arching a brow. “That won’t be too much for your stubborn pride, will it, Zoe?”

Her face burned hot with embarrassment, but she shook her head. “Thanks, Hale.” What she really wanted to do was shove away from the table, toss the offer in his face, and storm out.

Still, how bad could it be? She’d have an apartment to herself, aside from an elderly cat, and she wouldn’t have to use any of the money she’d saved the past three years working as a makeup counterperson at Macy’s on her rent. Hale wouldn’t be there, so there was no good reason to say no. “It’s very generous of you.”

“We’re family.” There appeared to be the slightest hint of irony in his voice, but it disappeared when he spoke again. “I’m happy to help you out, Zoe.”

Chapter Two

New York was everything she’d heard it would be—crowded, hot, unfriendly, and expensive. Zoe loved it despite its flaws and settled into Hale’s small but luxurious studio apartment easily enough. Within two weeks, she felt like she’d been living there forever. Her internship at the museum had the same sense of familiarity, and she had a good feeling about getting a permanent position at the end of the unpaid internship.

Bomber was a considerate roommate who only rarely spilled water on the floor or scattered cat food around the kitchen. He was content to curl up on her lap at night and let her rub his ears while he purred with quiet contentment.

It was the closest thing she’d come to a date in years, and she didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed that it was Hale’s cat who was filling the void for companionship, since the man himself had been the one to screw her up for dating others.

Her sense of routine came to a screeching halt when she returned to the apartment almost three weeks after moving in. Tired from a long day of cataloguing Roman undergarments, which was more taxing than she had expected, she opened the door and stepped inside before it hit her that she hadn’t had to unlock it first.

That was wrong, and she was immediately sure someone had broken into the apartment to…cook lasagna? Sniffing deeply, she was certain she smelled Grandma Nora’s pasta sauce, which was always paired with béchamel and homemade lasagna noodles. Monica had been married to Andy for three years before Nora had trusted her with the recipe.

“Mom?” she called.

The swinging door to the kitchen opened, revealing the startling and unlikely sight of Hale in suit trousers, an oxford shirt rolled to his elbows, and a serviceable black apron. Flour dotted the front and a smear lingered on his cheek.

It was a devastatingly sexy sight, and she had to catch her breath and count to three before she did something crazy, like throw herself at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said with a neutral smile.

Zoe nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Awkwardly, she shifted on the balls of her feet. “Um, I meant what are you doing home right now?”

“Making lasagna.”

Her eyes widened. “You know how to make Nora’s lasagna?”

He nodded. “She showed me when I was just fourteen. We bonded over the process. That was the year my mom died, and she used cooking therapy to communicate with me when I was an uncommunicative teenage boy who didn’t know how to express my anger and grief.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” Hale was a whiz in the kitchen? It had never occurred to her, simply because he seemed too impressive and above mere mortals to engage in such domestic simplicity. Apparently not though.

She drew her full lower lip between her teeth before releasing it. “Shouldn’t you be in England though?”

“I’m home for a bit.”

“Oh, okay.” Zoe cast a glance at the living room-cum-bedroom, where a large king-size bed dominated most of the space. She had slept on it almost every night since moving in, but only after investing in her own set of sheets. The idea of using the same sheets Hale slept on had been too intimate, and she’d spent the first night on the leather loveseat. Dreading a return to that torture device, she decided to worry about that later and focus on just getting through a civilized dinner with Hale first.