“Next time, you could at least drop a hint,” I said wryly, picking up both saucers.
“Deal.” She took the plates with scones on them and came around the counter, following me to the empty table. “By the way, your new friends were in this morning.”
I sat down and looked up at her in surprise. “My new friends?”
“Dexter Matthews and his girls.”
The butterflies returned. “Oh.”
“They came in to grab breakfast before church.” She laughed as she set down the plates. “The girls were looking for you. They thought you might work here.”
I smiled. “They’re so funny.”
“They are. And Dexter seems nice.”
“Yes.”
“And very handsome. I’d never met him before.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I guess.”
“His ex-wife Naomi does my hair.”
“Oh really? I didn’t know that.”
She sighed, twisting her fingers together. “I’ve heard her side of things—she definitely isn’t shy about discussing her personal life at work. But her side isn’t the only one.”
“What does she say about him?”
“The usual stuff any ex-wife would say. She doesn’t think he tried hard enough to make the marriage work. She said he was gone a lot when they were first married and that was tough.” My mom shrugged. “She’s called him some names.”
“He’s a good dad,” I said, feeling the need to defend him. “A really good dad. Those girls adore him.”
“I could tell when they were in here. And she never says he’s a bad father, just a shitty husband.” She shrugged. “But like I said, there are two sides to every relationship story.”
I knew she was thinking about my real mom, and how shitty things were for my dad after Carla left. I also remembered very well the things Carla used to say to my sisters and me about our dad, and how upset it used to make me. I’d get terrible stomachaches over it. “I hope Naomi doesn’t say those things in front of the girls.”
“I don’t think she does,” my mom said. “She’s said before that she doesn’t believe in one parent badmouthing the other in front of the kids. I think it’s more like the salon is her safe space to vent.” She thought for a moment. “She’ll often rant for a bit and then apologize and say something like, ‘I’ve known him forever and he’s a good person, but he just turned out to be wrong for me.’ I guess they were high school sweethearts.”
Out of nowhere, a sharp bolt of jealousy zapped me in the gut. “When did they split up?”
“I think maybe a year and a half ago? Two years? I know it’s final though, because she’s already engaged again.”
“Good for her,” I murmured, picking up my coffee for a sip.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet them today. And I’m so glad Luna’s reaction was nothing scary.”
A few customers entered the bakery, and Ellie was right behind them. “I better get back to work.” My mom patted my shoulder. “Thanks for coming in, sweetie.”
Ellie waved to my mom and joined me at the table. As soon as she sat down, she took an elastic from around her wrist and gathered her reddish-brown hair into a ponytail. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Mia cornered me on the way out to make sure I know the tastings I have to cover for today. I don’t know why she thinks I have no brain. We went over the schedule yesterday. She’s so fucking type A, I don’t know how my dad deals with it.”
“No worries.” I took another sip of coffee.
“What’s wrong?” Her light brown eyes scrutinized my face.
“Nothing.”
“Nice try.” She tightened the ponytail and picked up her coffee. “If you don’t spill the tea, I’ll keep complaining about my mother. Is that what you want?”
I laughed a little. “I was just talking to my mom about Dex.”
“Does she know he saw you naked?” Her eyes gleamed wickedly over the rim of her cup.
“No. Apparently he and the girls were in here this morning looking for me.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head. “That’s interesting.”
“And she told me that Noami—his ex-wife—cuts her hair. So every six weeks she gets an earful about what a shitty husband he was.”
“That’s not cool.”
“No, but I suppose it could be true. I don’t really know him.”
“I guess not.”
“But . . . he seems nice.” I played with the handle on my coffee cup. “He came over last night and sat on the back patio for a bit.”
Ellie’s mouth fell open. “And?”
“And we talked.”
“And?”
“And I got to know him a little better,” I said, reluctant to give her the entire truth right up front. “He’s actually kind of funny and sweet beneath his grumpy exterior.”
One of her eyebrows peaked.
“And he loves those girls so much. He talked a little bit about feeling bad for being away so much when they were babies. He missed a lot of milestones.” I took another sip of coffee. “I think he wants to make up for that.”
“Sounds like a good guy so far,” she said. “How long did he stay?”
“Maybe half an hour? Just long enough to have a beer and share a cupcake.”
“You two shared a cupcake?” Her eyes twinkled again. “How romantic.”
“Not like that—I mean, we didn’t, like, feed each other bites or anything. We just . . . each ate half. And then he said goodnight and went home.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. Mostly.” I picked up my coffee and looked out the window.
“Winifred.” Ellie set her cup down and leaned onto the table with her elbows. “What happened between sharing the cupcake and saying goodnight?”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said quickly.
“What wasn’t?”
“He apologized right away.”
“Apologized for what?”
I held my breath for a second, then gave in. “For the kiss.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped. “There was a kiss?”
“There was one kiss.”
“And?” she demanded impatiently. “How was it?”
“So hot,” I said, fanning my face. “Like, really hot.”
Leaning back in her chair, she grinned slowly.
“What’s that smile?”
“It’s a victory smile, because I’m going to win the bet,” she said, her tone smug. “You made out with a hot dude, and you’ve got that look in your eye.”
“What look?”
“The look that says I can’t stay long, I have to go pick out a china pattern.”
“I do not have that look,” I argued, trying to arrange my face in a more casual expression. “He didn’t propose. He just kissed me. I’m perfectly capable of kissing a man without wanting to marry him.”
“Since when?”
I glared at her. “Anyway, it won’t happen again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he apologized right afterward and left. Obviously he didn’t mean to do it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t kiss someone by accident, Win. It’s not like stepping on their foot.”
“Whatever.” I waved a hand in the air, like a magic wand—like poof, he was out of my head. “It would never work anyway. He’s too old for me, he’s newly divorced, and I’m not really interested in dating someone with a lot of baggage. We’re just going to be friends.”
“If you say so.” Ellie picked up her cup again.
“I do,” I said emphatically. “And that’s that.”
After we finished our coffee and scones, Ellie and I took off on our power walk, a three-mile loop we’d been doing pretty much every Sunday morning all summer. As we huffed and puffed under the hot sun, we brainstormed different ideas for projects we could work on together.
“I love the idea of a joint wine tasting,” Ellie said. “Abelard and Cloverleigh make different enough wines that
it could be really interesting.”
“Do you think a series or a one-time event would be better?”
She thought for a moment. “If we can get it on the calendar, why don’t we try a one-time event later this fall? If it goes well, we could make it a series next summer during the high season.”
“Good idea.” We looked both ways and crossed a side street. “Where should we do the first one? Abelard or Cloverleigh Farms?”
She shrugged. “Either place would work. It’s too bad our new restaurant won’t be open for another couple months. That would be the perfect space—intimate and cozy, amazing view of the vineyard.”
“What’s the holdup?”
“You name it. Materials, labor, contractor delays. Even my dad has lost his temper a couple times about it, and you know how laid-back he usually is. Originally it was supposed to open in October. Now they’re saying it might not be ready until after the holidays, and the chef my dad wanted couldn’t wait. He took a job somewhere else.”
“That stinks.”
“They’re interviewing chefs again, but they’re not finding anyone who’s right.”
“I could ask my sister Felicity if she’s interested,” I said. Felicity, who lived in Chicago, had gone to culinary school and was now a food scientist.
“Do it. My parents keep mentioning Gianni Lupo and I would rather eat dirt than work with him.”
I laughed. Growing up around here, the Lupo brothers were legendary. There were three of them, and they were all loud, reckless, and rowdy, constantly in trouble at school for breaking rules or getting in fights—often with each other—and one of them was usually in a cast or sling from some dare they couldn’t resist or stupid thing they’d done to show off. They weren’t mean, except to each other and other boys just like them, but when they weren’t tearing each other apart or pulling pranks at school, they loved teasing girls.
Ellie had grown up with the Lupo brothers because their mothers were best friends, but she didn’t have one nice thing to say about them, especially Gianni, who was our age. Not that I entirely blamed her—he’d always tormented her relentlessly. It hadn’t helped that they’d grown from scrappy, skinny boys with gangly legs and scabby elbows into gorgeous, brawny teenagers with unfair bone structure, thick tousled hair, and irrepressible grins.
Then there was the infamous night of the Cherry Festival when we were seventeen, which involved a dunk tank, several pies in the face, and a highly controversial game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.
“I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to me,” Ellie said. “It was so humiliating.”
“Come on, that was five years ago. We were in high school. Maybe he’s matured by now.”
She gave me a look that would have singed hair at twenty feet. “Guys like Gianni Lupo don’t mature, Winnie. They don’t have to, because even though they get older, they can just keep dating younger girls who don’t know better.”
“I thought he was in California. Wasn’t he doing some next generation version of the reality cooking show his dad was on?”
“Yeah. Lick my Plate,” Ellie sneered, rolling her eyes. “I can’t even believe my parents are considering hiring that clown.”
“I will reach out to Felicity and see if she’s interested.”
“Thank you. That would save me from death by testosterone. Or going to prison for murder.”
I laughed. “What are friends for?”
Later that afternoon, I was unloading the dishwasher when I heard a little voice coming in through the sliding screen door. “Hi, Winnie.”
I glanced over and saw Luna and Hallie standing on my patio, wrapped in large towels, their hair wet and dripping. “Well, hi,” I said, noticing Hallie wore swim socks. “You finally went swimming, huh? Did you like the pool?”
“Yes,” Hallie said. “Will you come out and swim with us?”
“Me?”
“Daddy said we could ask you.” Luna paused. “Well, at first he said no, we weren’t allowed to bother you, but then we bugged him until he said yes.”
I laughed. “Sometimes that works.”
“So will you?”
Glancing at my phone, I saw it was just after three. I could hang out with the girls at the pool and still have plenty of time to clean up and make it to my parents’ house for six o’clock dinner. “Okay,” I said. “I just need a few minutes to get my suit on. Do you want to come in?”
“We can’t,” Hallie said, glancing over her shoulder toward the pool area. “Daddy said we have to stay where he can see us. And we’re still sort of in trouble for wandering off yesterday.”
“But we have our emergency plan now,” added Luna seriously. “If there’s a fire, we’re going to meet at the pool gate.”
I nodded. “That’s a good plan. Okay, I’ll be right down.”
I hurried upstairs and opened a dresser drawer, debating between a skimpy two-piece and more family-friendly tank. Considering the situation, I decided on the blue and white striped tank. It had a low V in the front with a ruffled neckline, but wasn’t too revealing. I didn’t want to look like I was trying to be sexy or get Dex’s attention.
Tossing a cover-up on over my suit, I put on flip-flops and grabbed a towel. Downstairs, the girls were patiently waiting for me on the patio. I slung my pool bag over my arm and put on my sunglasses, sliding the door shut behind me. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”
They scampered across the lawn like puppies, and I walked fast to keep up. Beyond the black fence, I saw where Dex was reclining in a lounge chair, the back propped all the way up so he could see all the way to my patio door. His feet were crossed at the ankle, his arms were folded over his chest, and he didn’t look all that thrilled as we approached. I wondered if he’d been hoping I wasn’t home.
“See? Told you he was hairy,” Hallie said to me.
Luna raced ahead. “We found her!” she cried, trying unsuccessfully to open the gate. “She said yes!”
Dex got out of the chair and came over to open the gate. “I see that.”
“Hi,” I said, ignoring the way my heart was thumping at the sight of him in dark blue swim trunks. His chest was every bit as magnificent as I’d imagined, and not at all too hairy, despite what his daughters thought. His six-pack abs were taut beneath golden skin, and my eyes immediately wandered to the trail of hair beneath his belly button and the V lines that showed above his waistband.
As the gate swung shut behind me, he hitched up his suit, as if he’d caught me looking.
I quickly looked up and tried to smile. “How was church?”
“Fine.” His dark hair was wet and messy, and I couldn’t read his eyes behind his aviator sunglasses.
“The girls got you in the water already, huh?”
“Yeah.” He ruffled his hair in a boyish gesture. “I keep trying to get them out of here, but it’s impossible.”
“Well, it’s a gorgeous day,” I said, walking over to where Hallie and Luna had dumped their towels on the cement, right at the foot of their dad’s chair. “And school starts in what, just over a week? Gotta enjoy this while you can.”
The pool was crowded and there were no other lounge chairs available, but Dex moved his towel and spread it out on the ground. “Here. You can sit.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think the girls asked me out here so I could work on my tan,” I said with a laugh. Hallie and Luna had already jumped into the shallow end and were shouting for me to join them.
“You don’t have to swim if you don’t want to,” he said. “I told them not to bother you.”
“It’s no bother,” I said, removing my shoes and sunglasses. After tossing my cover-up on the chair, I noticed him looking at my body but trying to appear as though he wasn’t. “I’m just going to put some sunscreen on real quick.”
I leaned over and pulled a can of SPF 50 from my bag, giving my face and shoulders and chest a quick mist. “Want some?” I offered.
“No, thanks.” He dropped to
his towel on the cement and sat with his forearms draped over his knees.
After tucking the can back into my bag, I walked down the steps into the pool, conscious of his eyes on me.
“Are you coming in too, Daddy?” Hallie yelled. “We can have a tea party with four people now.”
“Nah, you guys don’t need me.”
As I played with the girls in the water—tea party, judging their handstands, proving I could still do three backward somersaults in the water without taking a breath—I was aware of him watching us, and I told myself he was just a concerned dad keeping a cautious eye on his children in a pool without a lifeguard.
But when I got out and dried off, I could sense him wrestling with his focus again—his gaze kept straying to my chest.
“Daddy, can we have another popsicle?” Luna asked, putting her towel over her head like a nun’s habit.
Dex checked his phone. “It’s time to go in.”
“No!” both girls said at once.
“Okay, you can go get another popsicle, but that’s the last snack before dinner, and we have to clean up soon. I have to have you back at five or I’ll get yelled at.”
Grinning, they tossed off their towels and took off toward their back door.
I smiled at him. “Softie.”
He made a noise, something between a growl and a grunt.
I glanced at the empty lounge chair. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I sit here?”
“Go ahead.”
I spread my towel on it and stretched out, disappointed when he kept his eyes straight ahead on the pool, although I did notice the way he had one hand clamped tightly around the opposite wrist, like maybe he was afraid of where that hand might wander if it were set free.
My knee? My thigh? My hip?
I liked that he might want me like that, even if it couldn’t go anywhere, especially after being dumped for the prospect of banging a New York model.
The guy was hot, and catching his eye felt good.
Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance Page 9