Singe Dad on Tap

by Cathryn Fox

  “Of course.”

  “Come for dinner, then. We’ll settle Lucas in together.” She smiles like she likes that idea, but her eyes narrow and her hand goes to her stomach. “You okay?”

  She shakes it off. “Yeah, fine.”

  “Tell Jack we’re having lasagna.”

  “You want me to bring Dad?”

  “Of course.

  Warmth and appreciation move over her face. “That’s thoughtful, Jesse.”

  “You can’t leave him alone. Last time you left him to fend for himself, he nearly burnt down the kitchen.” I lean into her and when I catch her sweet scent, I wish I hadn’t. I took her clothes out of the dryer this morning, and they were infused with her aroma. “Unless that’s part of your plan. Let your dad set the kitchen on fire to get the fire department to come over.”

  She laughs. “No, that’s not the plan at all, and we already have one in motion. Dad will be happy to come for lasagna.” She crinkles her nose. “About Dad.”

  My heart jumps. “Is he okay?”

  “Oh yeah,” she says quickly. “Nothing like that. I just…how do we handle this.” She waves her hand back and forth between the two of us. “Word travels fast at the pub, and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. You know he’s always trying to set me up.”

  “He just wants you to find someone who makes you happy.”

  She pauses as one of the firefighters sounds his alarm in demonstration.

  “I know, but…”

  “Maybe we just let him believe it,” I suggest. “That way he’ll get off your back about dating and marriage.”

  “I guess it would be nice to have the summer off from him badgering me.” She shakes her head. “You know, I saw him on a dating site. I thought it was for him. Heck, I’d be happy if he was dating, but noooo, he was trying to set up a profile for me. Can you imagine?”

  I laugh, even though it’s not funny. “No, I can’t.” I don’t blame her for being pissed off. I wouldn’t want anyone meddling in my private life either. “It’s settled then. We’ll let him believe it.”

  She’s about to leave, but turns back and says, “I have to get another key made after work. Mine is nowhere to be found. Need me to pick anything up?”

  “Nope. It’s all good. I’ve got everything under control.”

  She turns to leave, and my gaze drops to her sweet, curvy ass. A groan I have no control over climbs out of my throat, and I’m glad the chorus of kids all clamoring for a ride on the truck drown it out.

  For the first time in a long time, I’m not sure I do have everything under control. As Olivia sashays away, she bends to pick up a runaway napkin. My damn pants tighten. Yeah, no, I don’t have everything under control. I glance down and give a big thanks to my dick for driving that point home.

  5

  Olivia

  From across the table, Dad rubs his belly. “I have to hand it to you, Jesse, you do make a great lasagna.”

  “Mom’s old recipe,” Jesse says as he sets his fork down. “Handed down from generation to generation.” He gives Dad a teasing wink. “I could tell you what I put in it but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “Liar,” I say and laugh as Lucas momentarily stills beside me at the table, his last bite of pasta inches from his mouth. He stares straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular as he tries to process his father’s words. He’s such a sweet boy who takes everything so literally. It has to be painfully hard to live in a world where expressions he doesn’t quite understand are a huge part of our language. But Lucas is intelligent, and Jesse is doing his best to educate those around him. He’s quick to stop misconceptions head on so people don’t put his child into a box. Even without a mother, Lucas will grow up to live an independent life, I’m certain of that. Still, every boy needs a mother, so does every girl, and I know firsthand what it’s like going through life without one. I was fortunate enough to have Jesse’s mom take me under her wing.

  “Kidding, Lucas,” Jesse says not missing a beat. Even in conversation, Jesse is so aware of his son’s thoughts and movements. With a frown still wrinkling his forehead, Lucas tugs on the neck of his T-shirt, a familiar habit, and slides his fork into his mouth.

  I continue with, “Angela made this, didn’t she?” Angela is the head cook at the pub. She’s a sweetie, and a couple years older than me—she was classmates with Jesse—and getting married in less than a month. I checked ‘no’ for my plus one, but if Jesse and I are still pretending by then, perhaps we’ll go together. OMG, wait! I haven’t really thought this pretend relationship through. If Colin does stand up and take notice of me, what does that mean…

  Jesse grins, pokes his thumb into his chest, and says, “Hey, I’ve got skills.”

  All thoughts of Colin evaporate and my lips tingle as soon as those words leave Jesse’s mouth. I resist the urge to swipe my tongue over my bottom lips to see if his warm, intoxicating taste still lingers. Yeah, the man definitely has skills, and I have no doubt he’s good at numerous other things. A fine shiver moves through my body as I imagine his talents—in the bedroom. I’m not a virgin, although I might as well be. The guy I fumbled around with in college left me with bad memories, and the need to finish solo—and at the time I wasn’t even great at that. Neither one of us knew what we were doing, and it’s an experience I never want to recreate.

  Jesse, however… I bet he’d know his way around his woman’s body without a navigation system guiding him, or the use of overhead illumination. Like I want all my jiggling parts on display. Yeah, when that college boy suggested we turn the lights on so he could see what he was doing, I quickly shut him down. Jesse however, those deft hands could undoubtedly find…

  Stop thinking about him like that.

  We might have been friends since we were kids, but he’s my best friend’s ex. Just thinking about his skill between the sheets goes against girl code. Yeah, I get that she left him, but still, these thoughts and fantasies are wrong.

  Then why did his kisses feel so right?

  “Yeah, Angela made it,” I say, a statement not a question. When Jesse hired her last year, she revived the menu and added touches of her Italian heritage.

  “I plead the fifth,” Jesse teases and lifts his chin an inch.

  “Can I have ice cream?” Lucas asks, and sets down his glass of water.

  “Ice cream sounds great,” I say, and jump up. Needing a distraction, and to cleanse my wayward thoughts, I go to the freezer and pull out a tub. I do love that the man keeps a freezer full of ice cream. “Chocolate chip okay?” I ask and Lucas gives me an enthusiastic nod. “Dad, would you like a scoop?”

  My father rubs his belly again. “Like you even have to ask.”

  I laugh. “Right. What was I thinking?”

  Earlier today, I let Dad know Jesse and I were sort of seeing each other. He acted surprised, but the Oscar still goes to Jesse and his performance in the parking lot. Maybe Tara told Dad already. I sensed that he knew…something. Yeah, Tara probably spilled the beans. She’s not great at keeping things to herself and probably told Dad to act surprised. As long as she stays hushed on the fact that we’re pretending, we’ll be A-okay.

  I think…

  “Lucas,” Jesse says, as I scoop out dessert, “You remember Olivia is going to watch you tonight, right?”

  “Right,” he says. “I want to read T-Rex,” he says, and holds his hands up and growls.

  “We can do that,” I say and put his bowl in front of him. “Is that your favorite?”

  He nods, and my heart wobbles a bit. Every day he looks more and more like his dad. He’s going to be a heartbreaker with those big blue eyes.

  “We’re going to see the dinosaur show,” Lucas says, and digs into his ice cream.

  “A dinosaur show,” I say, injecting enthusiasm into my voice for Lucas’ sake. Dinosaurs are so not my thing. “Wow, that sounds amazing.”

  “You’re coming,” Lucas says, his head still down, his sole focus on digging a
chocolate chip from the ice cream, and I glance at Jesse.

  I arch a brow, used to Lucas blurting things out like that. “Am I now?”

  “Next weekend, there is a show at the museum.” Jesse casually rolls one broad shoulder. “I’m sure it will be boring for…”

  “We’re having a picnic, too. In the park. Dad said so. He’s going to make peanut butter sandwiches. They’re my favorite.”

  I throw my hands out. “Well then, if peanut butter sandwiches are involved, how can I say no?”

  “It’s a no-brainer,” Jesse says as he grins at me and my stupid heart flutters.

  Careful, Olivia.

  “You sure?” Jesse asks, his blue eyes narrowing, assessing me. God, when he looks at me like that. How’s a girl not to go all squishy inside? Tara was right. This man is the hottest ticket in town—the most eligible bachelor who seems hell bent on keeping that status.

  Can I blame him? Not really. He’s right to be careful who he brings into his child’s life, and not every woman wants—or has what it takes—to understand his special needs son. Sadly, it wasn’t what his own mother signed on for. My throat tightens at that thought and I swallow against the rawness. Lucas deserved so much better. So did Jesse.

  I stare at him like he’s dense. “Ah, peanut butter,” I say, and he laughs. He gives me a dubious look and I lower my voice. “I leave in two months, Jesse. I want to spend as much time with Lucas as possible.” My stomach squeezes. The thoughts of moving away from Lucas…from Jesse…sort of leaves a hollow in my gut, but I was accepted to Stanford and Dad needs the warmer climate. Even if I didn’t want to go, I have to for my father’s health. But there will be nothing easy about saying goodbye to the house I grew up in, and to my neighbors. There is a part of me that feels like I’m abandoning them too, in much the same way Kylie did, and haven’t they both had enough loss already.

  I nod as Dad’s spoon clatters in the bowl. “I can take care of these dishes if you two have other things to do.”

  Jesse checks the clock. “I should probably get going. You can leave the dishes. I’ll do them when I get back.”

  I nod. If I protest, he’ll protest. I wave him off. “Go. Have fun.”

  “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “Stop worrying. Lucas and I will be fine.” The man asks so little of me, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I have no social life, so what’s the difference in hanging out here or hanging with Dad at home. He’s not even going to be there anyway, and Jesse has better stations than we do.

  “I know he will be.” I smile. The compliment means a lot. He turns his attention to his son as he starts making growling noises. “Lucas, go brush your teeth, get into your pajamas, and hop into bed. Olivia will come read your favorite book soon.”

  Lucas slides from his chair, and seconds before he darts from the room, Jesse says, “Are you forgetting something?”

  Lucas groans and walks into his father’s open arms. Looking so small in his dad’s embrace, Lucas just stands there and stares at the ceiling as Jesse hugs him and drops a kiss onto the top of his mussed-up hair. Lucas abhors haircuts—as most kids do—and that’s putting it mildly. Jesse breaks the hold and Lucas makes a beeline for the stairs.

  “He’s such a good kid,” I say, and my stomach squeezes, a reminder that I’ll never have children of my own. “You’re doing such a great job with him, Jesse.”

  “Yeah,” Jesse says quietly, a strange look on his face. Is he thinking about the difficulties in being a single father, or how Kylie went to Hollywood to make it big? While I’ve yet to see her in anything, Hollywood is cutthroat and I do worry about her well-being.

  I ran into her parents a few months ago. They haven’t even heard from her—or so they say. It’s possible they’re lying. They soured on Jesse when he gave everything up to run the bar, and the last time Jesse brought Lucas to visit them, Lucas had a colossal meltdown. I don’t think Kylie’s parents are bad people, they just have no idea how to interact with their grandson, and that day, with the dog barking and them insisting he go swimming, refusing to take no for an answer, Lucas became overstimulated and it triggered an emotional reaction.

  I stand to clear the dishes, and we both reach for the same water glass. Jesse’s fingers brush mine. I take a fast intake of breath and hope it goes unnoticed, but suspect Dad heard it when he climbs from his chair and makes a clicking sound with his tongue.

  “I guess I should leave you two lovebirds alone,” he says, his hoarse laugh echoing around us.

  “Lovebirds?” I say. “Really, Dad?”

  “Looks to me like Jesse wants to give you a kiss goodnight, but isn’t sure about doing it in front of your old man.” Dad steps up to Jesse and puts a gnarled arthritic hand on his shoulder. “It’s about time you two got together, I’d say.”

  A niggling of guilt works its way through my stomach. I don’t necessarily think Dad’s been holding out for Jesse and me to get together. More like he just wants me to find someone. He’s old-fashioned like that, but I don’t need a man to be happy or complete. I’m an independent woman who knows the only one responsible for my happiness is me, and maybe this pretend relationship is a bad idea.

  Maybe?

  Yeah, it’s definitely a bad idea.

  Don’t you just love them?

  Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I’m a bookworm. A nerd. A girl who never crosses the street when the ‘don’t walk’ sign flashes, always returns her library books on time, and files her taxes long before the deadline.

  Time to change that, Olivia.

  Well, except for the library books. I mean come on…books.

  Dad shuffles into the other room. “Heidi is picking me up here for bingo. I’ll just flick on the TV and give you two some privacy.”

  When Dad rounds the corner—all the while whistling a tune, and I haven’t heard him whistle in years—Jesse’s head dips and his blue eyes move over my face. “You okay?”

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t want Dad getting his hopes up about us. He seemed rather happy that we were together. He’s whistling, for God’s sake.”

  Jesse nods. “I get it. I don’t want that either. Do you think we should stop?”

  Say yes, Olivia.

  Say yes right now.

  But ooh, those kisses…

  Before I can open my mouth—and likely say no—Jesse dips his head. His warm lips find mine for a soft, exploratory kiss that weakens my knees. My nipples swell, press against his cotton T-shirt, a telltale sign of what he does to me. Can he feel my arousal?

  Lucas growls from upstairs, mimicking his beloved T-Rex and I back up an inch. “What are you…doing?” I ask, working to hide my breathlessness, and what this man does to me.

  He runs his hands through his hair, like he too is flustered. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and I’m impressed at how quickly he’s able to pull himself together. Me? I’ll be rattled until Sunday morning, a week from tomorrow.

  He gestures with a nod. “Your Dad. He was watching. You hesitated when I asked if you thought I should stop, so I took that as a no. He was kind of waiting for me to make my move.”

  “Make your move?” A tight laugh climbs from my throat.

  “I’ve got moves,” he says, showcasing that cute dimple.

  I swallow. Hard. “I guess we’ve come this far then, right?”

  “Yeah,” he says, that one hoarse word sliding over my flesh to take up residence between my quivering legs. Looks like Mr. Right will be coming out of my nightstand tonight. The toy does the trick, and while I have no desire to fumble around in the dark with anyone, the feel of a man’s hands on my body, or even just holding me would be nice once in a while.

  Dad flicks through the stations until he comes to the sport station, and he cheers when he catches the highlight reel on a soccer game.

  Jesse backs up an inch. “I’d better head out.”

  “Bring lots of money.”

  He frowns at me. “Why?”

/>   “Colin did say he missed taking your dough.”

  He grins. “He’s a lucky bastard,” he says with a grin, but a second later his eyes cast downward and his smile dissolves. Whoa, what was that all about? “Okay, I’m out of here.” He snatches his keys from the hook by the kitchen door and heads outside. My focus remains on his tight backside as he goes, and a sigh I have no control over catches in my throat as the setting sun falls over him. He backs out of the driveway, and Heidi pulls in behind him.

  “Dad, Heidi is here,” I call out, and the old leather recliner in the living room clicks as he lowers the lever and stands.

  I step into the other room as he heads for the front door. “Jackpot is a big one tonight,” he says and rubs his hands together. “Sure would go a long way in helping with Stanford.”

  My heart hitches. He’s such a good man. He’s been there for me my whole life, playing the role of mother and father. He definitely knows what Jesse is going through. Dammit, I hate lying to him. Hate it with the power of a thousand burning suns.

  “Listen, Dad, about Jesse and me—”

  He holds his hands up to cut me off. “Your love life is none of my business.”

  I snort out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Since when?” He gives me a sheepish look. “Did you forget I caught you setting me up a dating profile?”

  He waves twisted fingers at me. “You took that all wrong. I was just playing, trying out the site. Couldn’t remember my birthday so I used yours.”

  “And my picture?” I roll my eyes. I’m not going to argue with him. I’d never win anyway. “Whatever you say.” He goes serious, so serious my heart slows to a crawl. “What?” I ask.

  He puts a warm palm on my cheek. “You and Jesse. I support you in whatever you do. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  I love you, kiddo.”

  Hot tears prick my eyes. “I know that too, and I know you want what’s best for me,” I say. I want what is best for him to, which is one of the reasons I chose Stanford. It’s my dream school for sure, but if it was somewhere cold, a place that would be detrimental to Dad’s health, I wouldn’t go.