Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Thanks.” Leaving my suitcase outside, I stepped into their kitchen. “The clothes I packed were for a Hawaiian vacation,” I explained, although truth be told, there were more casual outfits in my suitcase. I’d worn this for Austin’s benefit.
What I’d said before was true—I didn’t blame him for not hiring me. I thought he should have given me the opportunity to prove myself, but I understood that his kids were his world, and he wasn’t the kind of guy to take chances with them. Plus, he liked things to go according to his plans. Did I really need to spend my summer being bossed around by a man who thought he could do everything so much better than me? Hadn’t I just gotten out of that kind of situation?
Still, I’d lain awake for hours last night thinking about that kiss. I couldn’t even remember the last time someone had kissed me that way, like he couldn’t hold back. Like he was suffocating, and I was oxygen. I’d felt that kiss from my head to my toes.
I felt it now when he walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks at the sight of me.
Make grumpy single dad’s brown eyes pop? Check, I thought with satisfaction. Put that on my chore chart, you big hot lug.
He looked delicious again this morning in jeans and a fitted navy T-shirt. I remembered my hands on his back muscles last night and felt a little tingle between my legs.
His eyes traveled down my body and back up again. “You’ve been to Moe’s, right? It’s not really a dressy place.”
I shrugged. “I know.”
“But doesn’t she look pretty, Dad?” Adelaide pressed.
“Did you mark your chore chart, June bug?” he asked her, going over to the fridge to look at it.
Behind her dad’s back, Adelaide rolled her eyes. “Yes. For making my bed and watering the living room plants.”
“Good job. Where’s your brother?”
“Still getting dressed.”
“Can you go tell him to hurry up, please?”
Adelaide sighed and left the room.
“We can head to Western Union right after breakfast,” he said, placing his coffee mug in the dishwasher.
“That sounds great, thanks. I’m all packed up.” I glanced around the kitchen—not a dirty dish left anywhere. Not a crumb on the floor. Not a stray set of keys or stack of junk mail or crumpled dish towel on the gleaming counters. Again I thought maybe I’d dodged a bullet being rejected for the job. I wasn’t a slob, but I wasn’t obsessive about neatness either.
He turned around and leaned back against the sink, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re a good teacher.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I heard you giving the kids the yoga lesson out there. You’re a good teacher. Very patient.”
“Oh!” I laughed and played with the ends of my hair. “Thanks. I taught dance for years. And I like kids. Yours are great—very polite and funny. I can tell they’re smart too.”
“Thanks.” He glanced the way Adelaide had just gone. “They’re good kids.”
I hesitated, but decided to ask. “Owen mentioned their mom lives in California.”
“Yeah. She—we—” Austin exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s not a typical situation. They were sort of . . . unplanned.”
“A surprise gift?”
He nodded. “Their mom and I met while I was out in California on vacation. I was shocked when she called and told me she was pregnant.”
“She didn’t want kids?”
“No. I didn’t, either, not at that point. I was just twenty-five. After spending a lot of my childhood helping to raise my siblings and going to work for my dad right after graduation, I was enjoying my independence. In fact, I almost—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Anyway, that week in California, I clearly enjoyed myself a little too irresponsibly.”
“But you chose to raise them on your own.” My heart beat a little faster, learning this about him. It made him even sexier. “That’s responsible. That’s amazing, in fact. A lot of guys would have run the other way.”
“Sometimes, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
It surprised me—the admission of insecurity. He seemed so sure of himself. “It looks like you’re doing a great job, Austin.”
“I’ve had a lot of help,” he said. “From my dad and sister especially. We lived with them up until two years ago. I don’t think I’d have survived that first year without them.”
“Mabel said you work for your dad’s company?”
“Yes. And he was so understanding about my schedule when they were small—he always said being a dad came first, letting me arrive late and leave early, paying me more than he was taking.” He shook his head. “He saved me.”
My admiration for—and envy of—his tight-knit family grew. “That’s what family is for, right? And accepting help from others when you need it is okay. The problem is when accepting help turns into letting someone else call all the shots in your life.” I took a breath. “I’m never doing that again.”