The Single Dad (The Dalton Brothers 3)

He was still outside and made no attempt to get off the phone and return to his client. I didn’t want to leave him feeling like this. If I were there, I’d pour him a drink. But I was here, and all I had were words.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to go back inside and drink your face off, pretending to listen to your client blab when you’re really not hearing a word they say?”

He chuckled.

It was short, but that noise was better than any he’d made so far tonight.

“I want to hear about your day.”

“My day?” I smiled. My God, he was beautiful. “Let’s see …” I moved several paces away from the door, making sure my voice wouldn’t carry. “We made muffins with fresh blueberries that we’d picked up from the store today—where she loves going, by the way.” I paused, looking to see if there was a change in his eyes but there wasn’t. “We made three dozen, so we brought some over to your next-door neighbor, who’s really lovely. She was planting flowers outside her gate when we went on our walk, and Eve asked her if she would like some. Your daughter’s quite the social butterfly.”

He smiled.

And the movement made me remember just how his lips had felt when he kissed me.

The strength of them.

The way they had tasted just like wine.

“In exchange for the muffins, your neighbor gave us some lemons from her tree, so we came home and made fresh lemonade. It was around that time that her ear started bothering her. I popped some soup into the microwave, and now, she’s in bed. Surrounded by all her animals.” I smiled, hoping it would lighten things a little. “Yesterday was a bit more interesting.”

“Yeah?”

I took a quick peek inside her room and hurried back to the wall I’d been leaning against before. “She’s all good; don’t worry.” I cleared my throat, getting lost in the way he was licking his lips. “Should I tell you about yesterday, or are you sick of hearing me talk?”

“No, far from that.” Now, he was rubbing his fingers over his mouth, drying it. “Tell me everything.”

“Hold on a sec. I’ll show you. I snapped a pic of her.” I exited out of FaceTime and pulled up my Photos app, searching for the one I’d taken at the nail salon, and sent it to him. When I returned to FaceTime, I said, “Check your messages.”

I waited, anticipating his face to disappear from the screen.

But he didn’t go anywhere, nor did he look at my text.

In fact, he didn’t move at all; he just stayed staring at me.

“Anyway, I took Eve to get her nails done. The photo I sent is of her in the massage chair. There’s a girl giving her a manicure, another girl doing her toes. She had my sunglasses on. It was cuteness overload.” I paused. “Should I keep going?”

“Yes.”

He was acting stranger by the second, but I wasn’t going to try to figure this out.

I was just going to do what he asked.

“We learned all about the different spots that her daddy has visited during this trip. We even printed the pictures you’ve sent so far and glued them to a map.” I winced, chewing the corner of my nail. “Don’t kill me, but she might be asking for a Vegas vacation when you get back.”

“Is that right?” His gaze was so intense that I swore he was looking right through me.

I didn’t know if it was his stare or the way he was so focused on me, but my body was pulsing. My limbs becoming weak. Tingles exploding everywhere.

I slid down the wall until my butt hit the hardwood floor, and I sucked in a breath before I said, “She also wants to go to Colorado, after seeing that picture you sent of Denver.”

“I’m sure I can make that happen.”

A piece of hair was stuck to my lip, and as I moved it away and tucked it behind my ear, his eyes narrowed.

“She would love that,” I said softly.

“Would you?”

“Would I?” I repeated, unprepared for his question. “What do you mean?”

“If we go, I would like you to come with us.”

“Oh.”

I swallowed, trying to envision what that would look like.

When I’d worked for the Turners, all we had done was travel.

Things were so much different with Ford.

Because we’d slept together.

Because only a few days ago, he had fingered me in his kitchen.

Because I wanted so badly to be with him.

The thought of going to Vegas and Colorado, being with him every hour of every day, was an overwhelming feeling.

But this was what I’d agreed to.

There was no way I could refuse.

I hid the anxiety from my face.

The worry.

The hope.

And I said, “Yes, I’ll go.”