Single Dad On Tap

by Cathryn Fox

  “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he says flatly.

  With panic erupting inside me, I say, “I’ll be right there.” I dash outside, the sun setting low on the horizon as I try to run to the pub, all my parts jiggling. But I’m not too worried about that. No one is looking at me, and I don’t hate those parts anymore, thanks to Jesse.

  Jesse.

  The guy next door I’ve been crazy about since…forever. The guy who awakened me in the bedroom, the guy who worshipped my body, and taught me to love myself.

  The guy who accused me of something awful.

  My heart is pounding out of my chest by the time I reach the pub. I push open the heavy door, and glance around but can’t find my father anywhere. I spot Tara and run to her.

  “Tara, where is Dad? He called and said he wasn’t okay.”

  “Come with me,” she says, and takes my arm. She guides me to the back, to Jesse’s office and I hesitate.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Your father is in the office. We all need to talk.”

  She ushers me in and Dad is standing there, a strange look on his face. My gaze goes from him, to the dozen or more keys—my keys—sprawled across Jesse’s desk. The same desk he bent me over and rocked my world.

  “What…what is this?”

  “I have a confession,” he says.

  “Me too,” Tara pipes in.

  “Why…what? My keys?”

  “I’ve been sneaking them out of your bag,” Dad says. “Tara has been too.” I glance at Tara, who has a sheepish look on her face.

  “Why?” I ask.

  Dad clears his throat. “So you couldn’t get in the house.”

  I shake my head, stupefied. “Why didn’t you want me to get in the house?”

  “If you couldn’t get in, you’d be forced to go to Jesse’s,” Dad says.

  What is he talking about? “I have no idea what is going on here.”

  “Have a seat,” Tara says and walks me around the desk. I drop down into Jesse seat, and glance at my Dad and Tara, never having felt so weary in my life. Dad sits on the desk beside me, and Tara moves toward the lockers.

  “This is all our fault,” Tara says.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Well,” she begins and exchanges a look with Dad. “We all know you like Jesse. Like really, really like him. Always have.” I open my mouth but she holds her hand up to cut me off. “Just hear me out, please.”

  “Okay.”

  “Your dad wants all your decisions to be yours. He’d never tell you he didn’t want to move.”

  “Dad?” I sit up a little straighter. “You don’t want to move?”

  “Let me finish, Olivia,” Tara says.

  I swallow and sink back into the chair. Where is she going with this?

  “We kind of set you up. You know, just to open your eyes. You thought you were opening Colin’s eyes, but in actuality, we were opening yours. At least we were trying to.”

  “Okay, slow down,” I say as I try to piece this together. “Opening my eyes?”

  “I know it wasn’t Colin you were into. He was in on this, too. Pretending to like you, flirt with you and things like that to make Jesse jealous. It worked.”

  “You guys were meddling in my life?” I glare at my father. “Dad, come on. Seriously?”

  “We just think you and Jesse belong together, is all,” Tara explains. “We wanted to put you guys in a situation where you could both see how right you were for each other.”

  My stomach tightens, and I glance at the garbage can, sure I’m going to throw up.

  “Does Jesse know this?”

  Tara scrunches up her face. “Yeah. I’m lucky to still have a job.”

  I rake my hand through my hair. “He must be furious.” I know I am.

  “You could say that,” Tara says.

  Dad reaches out and takes my hand. “You two kids need to talk.”

  I don’t want to talk to him. “Dad, do you not want to move?”

  “You’re a smart girl. You make good choices. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.” He squeezes my hand in reassurance. “I’ll stand behind whatever it is you want to do.”

  “But Dad, I’m not going to—”

  “Olivia,” he says, his fatherly voice firm. “Talk to Jesse. He’s hurting, too.”

  As soon as the words leave his mouth, Jesse comes into the office. His feet skid to an abrupt halt when he finds the three of us inside. Dad and Tara make a beeline for the door. In the hall, Dad grabs hold of the knob.

  “We’re not letting you out, until you two talk.”

  I jump from my chair. “Dad, you can’t—”

  The door slams shut on my protest, and I groan.

  Jesse stares at me and I begin to pick up the keys. “Can you believe those two?” I say.

  “Three, Colin was in on it too.”

  “I’m sorry, Jesse. I’m sure this is all Dad’s doing, and I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  His words sting a bit, and my hands shake a little as I gather up the keys. I thought there was more to us, that we might have had a chance. But if he’s sorry, I must have read everything wrong.

  “But I’m not sorry they tricked us into a pretend relationship.”

  My gaze jerks to his. “No?” I ask, and that’s when I notice the fine lines around his eyes. Has he been getting any sleep? I know I’ve been lying awake at night for over a week now.

  “No, I’m an asshole, and what I’m sorry for is the cruel things I said to you.” He swallows and takes a measured step toward me. He stops and waits to see how I’m going to react. When I fall back into my chair, he says. “I’m also sorry for the way Kylie treated you. She’s not—”

  “She’s not my friend.”

  There’s a deep sadness in his eyes. “No, she’s not. She’s not anyone’s friend.”

  “I’m not sure what I ever did to her.”

  “You didn’t do anything to her. This is all her, not you. She’s angry and confused, and lost. I want her to find herself, and happiness, but she’s not going to find it here, or with us. You’ve been a good friend, Olivia. To her and to me.”

  I nod, but wonder if we can ever be friends again. Actually, I don’t want that, anyway.

  “You’re nothing like Kylie. I was angry with her for just showing up like that, and she was pushing my buttons before I came here to talk to you. When I saw the brochures, I—”

  “Reacted,” I say, and as my anger melts away, it leaves room for common sense to move in. He’s had loss, and has been hurt, so he was pushing me away before I could leave him. Why didn’t I realize that before? The brochures triggered something in him, but that also means he wanted more with me, but was worried I needed more from him, that he wasn’t good enough just the way he is.

  “You see,” he says and circles the desk. “I know you care about me. I know you picked up the brochures to give me a nudge, to fulfill my dreams, not because I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  “Jesse, you’re the best guy I know.”

  He angles his head, his face full of regret. “Even after I was shitty.”

  “Yes,” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Even after that.”

  He pulls something from the top drawer of his desk and drops it in front of me. “I did a thing.”

  “What’s this?” I ask as I look at the manila folder.

  “I’m going back to school, Liv.”

  My heart skips a beat as I lift my eyes to his. “You are?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tears pool in my eyes. “Don’t do it for me, Jesse. I love you just the way you are.”

  “You love me?”

  An almost hysterical laugh bubbles in my throat. “Apparently, everyone knows that. Haven’t you heard?”

  “I love you too, Olivia.”

  My heart swells inside my chest, and it’s a good thing I’m sitting or I’d fall.


  Jesse loves me…

  “I’m going back to school for me and for Lucas.” He looks down for a second. “I’m going to sell the bar. It’s time.”

  I nod, my voice stuck in my throat.

  “Here’s the thing. Selling and going back to school will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s something I have to do. I realize that, now. It would be much better if you were in our lives, and I want to ask you to stay, but I can’t, Liv.” He tugs on his hair, looking lost and broken, and so damn frightened, my heart squeezes tight. “I can’t ask you to give up on your dreams and grow to resent us. But know this. I want you to stay, but I also understand you need to go. No matter what, I want us to be together.” Dark lashes blink over hopeful eyes. “Maybe we can make the long-distance work.”

  “No.”

  He nods, and the muscles in his throat tighten. A moment of silence and then he says, “I understand.” He takes a shaky breath. “Can we at least go back to being friends?”

  “I don’t want to be friends.”

  He grips the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. “Man, I really fucked this up.”

  “Yeah, you did. You’re kind of a dumbass.”

  His gaze flies to me. “What?”

  I grin at him. “You fucked me up, and I loved every second of it. You taught me so much about myself, Jesse, and opened my eyes, not just to what I wanted, but to what I needed. You gave me courage, enough courage to tell you how I really feel about you. I should have done it a long time ago, but I was afraid of losing you.”

  “I was afraid of losing you, too,” he says. “But you just said you don’t want to be friends.”

  “I don’t.” I stand, and put my hands on his cheeks. “I want to be more, and no, we can’t make long distance work, because I’m not going anywhere.”

  The emotions that cross his eyes nearly floor me: love, hope, happiness…and fear. “Olivia, but your dreams. I can’t…”

  “I can go to school here, Jesse. Dad doesn’t want to move, and honestly, neither do I. You and Lucas, you’re the family I always wanted but never thought I could have.” A sound catches in his throat as he cups my cheeks, his lips finding mine for a kiss steeped in love, passion and promise. When he breaks it, I add, “It’s your dreams I’m worried about.”

  He frowns, his gaze moving over my face in deep confusion. “I don’t understand. I’m going back to school.”

  “I’m talking about expanding your family. I might not be able to give you children, Jesse. I don’t want you to grow to resent me. That’s a big part of what’s been holding me back.”

  He holds me tighter. “You and Lucas, you’re all I need, Liv. If we have kids, we have kids, if we don’t we don’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure in my entire life. You’re the world to me.”

  He picks me up off the ground and spins me around and a laugh bubbles out of my throat. When he sets me down, I grin at him.

  “Do you hear that?” I ask.

  He seems a bit embarrassed when he asks, “You mean my heart pounding?”

  I laugh. “No, the murmurs outside the door.” He glances at the door, and then turns those gorgeous blue eyes back on me.

  “Should we make them sweat it out?” he asks.

  “Hell yeah, we should. After all their interfering,” I say.

  “We’ll have to thank them for that, huh?”

  “Yeah, we will,” I say with a chuckle. “But for now, they wait, and I think I know how we can pass the time. It might involve us sweating it out, too.”

  He steps up to the door and sets the lock. His smile is sexy and full of heat and mischief. “They think they’re keeping us in, but it’s us keeping them out.”

  “Us, I like the sound of that.”

  “You know what I like the sound of better?” He grips my t-shirt, toys with the hem.

  “What?”

  He lightly brushes his lips over mine. “Mr. and Mrs. Ward.” He shrugs. “Or Mr. Ward and Ms. Bennett. However you want to do it.”

  My breath catches. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Jesse?”

  “Before I strip you naked—because I’m pretty sure when you tell this story to our grandkids, you don’t want to be naked in it—I have a question to ask.”

  “Yes,” I croak out.

  “I love you, Liv. I have always loved you. You are the kindest and kinkiest—”

  “Jesse,” I say with a laugh and whack him.

  He laughs with me. “I mean kindest, sweet, most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on and I want to spend the rest of my life with you in it. Will you marry me? Will you be my wife, and Lucas’ mother?”

  I laugh, my heart so full of love and light, I just might float away.

  “Yes, I will marry you. There is nothing I want more than to be your wife and Lucas’ mother. Now hurry up and get your clothes off.”

  A knock comes on the door and I bite my lip playfully. “Seems like they’re getting antsy out there. Is having sex here on your desk, with them all waiting for a verdict, a bad idea?”

  “Hell yeah, it is,” he says, and rips off his shirt.

  My lighthearted laugh fills the room. “Bad ideas. Don’t you just love them?”

  Afterword

  Thank You!

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading, Single Dad on Tap, book 2 in my Single Dad Series. I hope you loved this story as much as I loved writing it. If you haven’t read Single Dad Next Door, I hope you check it out. Keep reading for an excerpt of The Playmaker, book one in my Players on Ice series and keep and eye out July 2020 for Callan and Gemma’s story in Single Dad Burning Up, and watch for guest appearances from Olivia and Jesse to see what they’ve been up to!

  * * *

  Interested in leaving a review? Please do! Reviews help readers connect with books that work for them. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

  Happy Reading,

  Cathryn

  The Playmaker

  Nina

  Fat drops of spring rain pummel my head, wilting my curls as I dart through Seattle’s busy traffic to the café on the other side of the street. My best friend, Jess, is inside waiting for me, undoubtedly hyped up on her third latté by now.

  I step over a pothole and search for an opening in the traffic. I hate being late, I really do. I totally value other people’s time, but when the email came through from my editor, asking me to write a hot hockey series, my priorities took a curve. I’ve worked with Tara for a couple years now, and I know her like—pardon the pun—a well-worn book. To her, hesitation equals disinterest. She’s a mover, a tree-shaker, and it wouldn’t have taken long for her to offer the opportunity to another author. She wanted a quick reply and I had to give it to her.

  I got this!

  Yeah, that was my response, but what did I have to lose? I’ve been in such a rut lately, thanks to my fickle muse, deserting me when I needed her most. I swear to God, sometimes she acts like a hormonal teenager. I need to whip her into shape so I don’t lose this gig. The royalties from a series will help make a sizeable dent in the bills that are piling up high and deep.

  High and deep.

  I laugh. One of those self-derisive snorts that crawls out when you’d really rather cry. Yeah, that pretty much sums up the I got this response I emailed back. High and deep, like a big steaming pile of—

  A car horn blares, jolting me from my pity party. With my heart pounding in my chest, I step in front of the Tesla and flip the guy off. I safely reach the sidewalk and once again my mind is back on my job, and off the impatient jerk in the overpriced car.

  I step up on the sidewalk and lift my face to the rain, the cool water a pleasant break from this unusual spring heat wave we’re having. Pressure fills my throat. The hum of traffic behind me dulls, leaving only the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. Panic.

  Why the hell did my editor think I, former figure skater t
urned romance novelist, would want to write a series about hot hockey players? Yeah, sure my brother is an NHL player, but that doesn’t mean I’m into the game. I hate hockey. No, hate is too mild a word for what I feel. I loathe it entirely. But you know what I don’t loathe? Eating. Yeah, I like eating. Oh, and a roof over my head. I really like that, too.

  I draw in a semi self-satisfied breath at having rationalized my fast response.

  Except my reply was total and utter bullshit. I don’t got this. In fact, I…wait, what’s the antonym of got this? All that comes to mind is, you’re screwed. Yep, that pretty much describes my predicament.

  Why didn’t I just stick to figure skating?

  Because you took a bad spill that ended your career.

  Oh right. But seriously, a hockey series… Ugh. Kill me. Freaking. Now.

  I reach the café, pull the glass door open and slick my rain-soaked hair from my face. I quickly catalogue the place to find Jess hitting on the barista. Ahh, now I get why she picked a place so far from home. I take in the guy behind the counter. Damn, he’s hotter than the steaming latté in Jess’s hand, and from the way she’s flirting, it’s clear he’ll be in her bed later today.

  I sigh inwardly. It’s always so easy for her. Me? Not so much. Men rarely pay me attention. Unlike Jess, I’m plain, have the body of a twelve-year-old boy, and most times I blend into the woodwork.

  I pick up a napkin from the side counter and mop the rain off my face. Doesn’t matter. I’m not interested anyway. From my puck-bunny-chasing brother to all his cocky friends, I know what guys are really like, and when it comes to women, they’re only after one thing, and it isn’t scoring the slot. I roll my eyes. Then again, maybe it is.

  And of course, I can’t forget the last guy I was set up with. What he did to me was totally abusive, but I don’t want to dredge up those painful memories right now.

  I shake, and water beads fall right off my brand-new rain-resistance coat. At least something is going right for me today. Semi-dry, I cross the room and stand beside Jess.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.”