Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance

by Melanie Harlow

  “Dad!” I thumped his shoulder. “I asked you not to say anything yet.”

  “And I was careful not to make that promise. I tell her everything, I can’t help it.” My dad slung his arm around my mom’s shoulder and kissed her head.

  It’s easy to talk to you. Dex’s words from earlier echoed through my head.

  “Anyway,” I said, “it’s premature to talk about leaving yet. I want to hear the details from Sandra, and then I can make a decision.”

  Later, Millie and I walked out together. “What are you up to tomorrow?” she asked.

  “I have to work reception in the morning. Then I’m heading over to Dex’s sister’s house for a cookout.”

  Millie laughed.

  “What? It’s just a cookout,” I said defensively.

  “I talked to Whitney today. She said you guys were at Cloverleigh all morning.”

  “We were. She was awesome with the girls. I owe her one.”

  “She said they were adorable.”

  “They loved it. They didn’t stop talking about it the whole way home.”

  “She also mentioned you and Dex looked pretty cozy together,” she said suggestively.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what made her say that.”

  “I think it was just a feeling that you seemed comfortable with each other—like old friends,” Millie said. “She was surprised that you guys met recently.”

  “Yeah. We clicked fast. Good chemistry, I guess.” I played with my keys. “But you can tell Whitney—like I keep telling you—there’s nothing serious between us.”

  I didn’t have trouble meeting her eye, because it was the truth.

  But damn.

  Being the boss of my feelings was getting harder every day.

  Sixteen

  Dex

  “Want to hear about the new story I’m writing?” Hallie asked Sunday night when I went in to say goodnight to the girls.

  “Yes.” I sat down on the edge of her bed.

  She hugged Rupert the penguin tight, resting her chin on his head. “It’s about a princess.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s her name?”

  “Her name is Minnie.”

  “Princess Minnie.” Leaning back on my elbow, I pretended to consider the name. “And what does she look like?”

  “She’s very beautiful, with long golden hair. She lives in a little cottage in the forest. And she has a cat.”

  “What’s the cat’s name?” Luna asked, turning onto her side to face her sister’s bed.

  Hallie thought for a moment. “Tigger.”

  “Interesting,” I said.

  Luna giggled and tucked her hands beneath her cheek.

  “Princess Minnie is very sad when Tigger runs up a very tall tree and won’t come down,” Hallie went on. “And she has no one to ask for help.”

  “Aren’t there some townspeople about?” I asked.

  “No.” Hallie’s tone was solemn. “Minnie cannot go to town because she’s hiding in the forest. Her parents are cruel and they want her to marry a mean prince.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “There’s only one person she can ask—he lives near her in the forest, and she sometimes sees him through her window.” Hallie took a breath. “But she’s scared of him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s an ogre. A big hairy ogre.”

  I frowned, cocking one brow. “And what’s the big hairy ogre’s name?”

  “Rex.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Every night she hears Rex snoring really loud and making other scary ogre noises. The ground trembles when he walks.”

  “Because he has giant muscles?”

  “Because he has giant feet.”

  I sighed. “So does the princess overcome her fear and knock on his door?”

  “I don’t know yet. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

  “What?” I swatted her leg through the covers. “You’re just going to leave Luna and me hanging there? With poor Tigger up a tree and Princess Minnie all alone and scared?”

  Hallie smiled. “It’s a good story, right?”

  “Yes. You need to finish it.” I slid off the bed and kissed her forehead. “Tell me something—is the ogre really a prince under some kind of evil spell?”

  She shook her head. “No, he’s really an ogre.”

  “Figures.” I kissed Luna’s temple and turned off the light. “Goodnight, girls. See you in the morning.”

  “Daddy?” Hallie yawned.

  “Yeah.” I paused in the doorway.

  “Today was another ten.”

  I took a bow. “Thank you, I agree.”

  “Can we ride horses again tomorrow?”

  “No. We’re going to Aunt Bree’s tomorrow.”

  “But Winnie is coming, right?”

  “She might. Go to sleep.”

  Leaving the light on in the hall for them, I went back downstairs to clean up the mess we’d left in the kitchen. We’d made our own pizzas for dinner, and there was sauce and shredded cheese everywhere. Afterward, I opened a beer and sat on the couch with the television on, not really noticing what was on the screen.

  It was torture to glance at the sliding door and wonder if Winnie was out on her patio. Should I go out there? If she was sitting at her table, should I invite her over? If she accepted my invitation, could I keep my hands to myself?

  Frowning, I took a long swallow from the bottle and picked up a couch pillow, holding it to my chest. It bothered me how badly I’d wanted to keep touching her today. How often I’d caught myself staring at her mouth. How many times I thought about inviting her over for dinner tonight.

  But it was bad enough I’d impulsively invited her to come to Bree’s tomorrow. After what I’d said to Justin, he was going to give me a whole bunch of shit for bringing her—and I’d deserve it. But I liked being around Winnie. She was always upbeat and she made me laugh. She called me out on my bullshit and I could say things to her I couldn’t say to anyone else. I felt like she understood my situation because of the way she’d grown up, and she didn’t judge me when I got frustrated or angry. She had no stake in it—she wasn’t going to use anything against me later. She just listened.

  And I liked listening to her too. She got so excited when she talked about the dinner she was planning with her friend or ideas she had for events at her potential new job. I liked hearing stories about her family too—it was obvious she was close to them and that she’d had a happy childhood despite her real mom leaving when she was so young. I found myself curious about her dad and kind of wanted to meet him.

  Not to mention how damn good she was to my girls, and how they’d taken to her like she was a long-lost aunt or something.

  Plus, she had those lips and that tongue and the sweetest curves known to man.

  Yes, she was young, but I even liked the things that reminded me of her age—like her adorable laugh or the bounce in her step or the way she and the girls used slang words or talked about songs or celebrities I’d never fucking heard of.

  I took another sip and stood up. Moving slowly, like I wasn’t even sure where I was heading, I went out on the patio. Standing there for a second in the dark, I drank again and then looked over to the right.

  She wasn’t out there, and her lights were off.

  Disappointed, I went back inside.

  The next day, I sent Hallie and Luna over to knock on Winnie’s door while I backed the car out of the garage. She came out a minute later carrying a brown paper bag. She was wearing a yellow crop top, denim shorts with daisies on them, and white sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked sexy and sweet, even younger than usual. My heart revved like an engine.

  They piled into the car and buckled up. “Hi,” she said, setting the bowl and bag at her feet.

  “Hey. You didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “It’s just some guacamole and chips. Nothing fancy.”

  “But I’m not bringing anyth
ing. You’re making me look bad.”

  She laughed. “You’re bringing me. I got you.”

  When we arrived at Bree and Justin’s house, we walked around to the yard, where they were sitting on the deck with some other friends, watching their kids run around on the lawn with squirt guns and water balloons.

  Hallie and Luna immediately ran out to join them, while I introduced Winnie to the adults. My sister jumped up to get her a drink, and Justin, who was holding the baby over his shoulder, grinned at me knowingly.

  I resisted the urge to flip him off.

  While Winnie set the guacamole and chips on the table, I went inside to grab a beer and found my sister pouring a glass of wine.

  After prying the cap off the beer bottle, I stole a cherry tomato from a big bowl of pasta salad on the counter.

  “Hey.” She slapped my knuckles. “Keep your hands out of the food.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “We’ll eat soon. What time do you have to have the girls back?”

  “Six. But I’m sure Naomi will be texting me by four that it’s their first school night of the year and I should have them back sooner.”

  “You guys getting along okay these days?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged and tipped up my beer. “She’s getting married next month.”

  “I heard.” She put the bottle of wine back in the fridge. “Does that bother you?”

  “Nah. Bryce is decent enough. He’s good to the girls, and they seem to like him.”

  “Winnie seems nice.” My sister leaned back against the counter. “Justin mentioned you had a new friend. That’s her?”

  I wasn’t fooled by her casual tone. It was obvious she knew what I’d been up to. “That’s her.”

  Bree didn’t even bother to hide her smile. “She’s super cute.”

  Frowning, I gave Bree the finger I hadn’t given her husband.

  “What?” She laughed. “I think it’s great. She’ll keep you young. What are kids these days into, anyway?”

  “She’s not a kid—she’s twenty-two. And she’s not just cute, she’s cool and she’s funny and she’s great with the girls.”

  “Wow.” Her eyes lit up. “Lucky you, moving in next door to someone like that.”

  “She’s moving out soon,” I said quickly.

  Bree’s face fell. “Oh. How come?”

  “She got a job offer in Rhode Island.”

  “Well, shoot.” Bree sighed. “I guess that’s that.”

  “That’s that. Come on, let’s go outside.”

  “Okay, but I have to tell you one thing.” Her expression put me on edge.

  “What?”

  “Dad called me.”

  I scowled. “For money?”

  “No. He’s sick.”

  “Tough.” I took another drink. “With what?”

  “Lung cancer. It’s terminal.”

  Something like pity tugged at my heart, and I shut it down immediately.

  “He asked to see us. And his grandkids.” She hesitated, took a breath. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Well, I don’t need to think. My answer is no.”

  “Dexter,” she said softly. “He’s our father, and he has terminal cancer. Don’t you think we should be there for him?”

  “The way he was there for us or for Mom, when she was sick?” I asked pointedly.

  She pressed her lips together. “I know he’s not perfect. He knows he’s not perfect. He understands he’s made mistakes.”

  “This is what he does, Bree. He makes you believe that he’s sorry and he’s changed, but in the end, he’s the same guy he always was, and that guy sucks.” I shook my head. “I don’t need to say goodbye.”

  “Did you know he got married?” She looked up at me with hope in her blue eyes, and it killed me to see it—she looked like our mom did every single time he came back.

  “No.”

  “Last year. He met her at AA, I guess. Her name is Gloria, and she sounds nice. They live about two hours away.”

  “You talked to her too?”

  “She wrote me a letter, asking if it would be okay for Dad to call. She said from the moment they met, he’s talked about all the regrets he has about his kids. She told me about his cancer and begged me to consider reconciling with him before it’s too late.”

  I steeled myself. “You can. I won’t. And he’s not coming near my kids.”

  She moved closer, placing a hand on my arm. “Please just think about it. For me. I don’t know if I can do it without you.”

  Swallowing hard, I forced myself to keep those walls in place. She was my baby sister, and my instinct was to protect her, but I couldn’t if she chose that path. “Sorry, Bree. I can’t.”

  The rest of the day was ruined by my conversation with my sister. I sat outside with everyone, but I didn’t talk, I didn’t laugh at anyone’s jokes, and I avoided meeting Winnie’s eyes. She could tell something was up with me, and a couple times she asked if I was okay, but I brushed her off. Mostly I just looked out onto the lawn where the kids were playing, determined not to let anyone hurt my girls, ever—especially not my father. He’d done enough damage. And I didn’t care if he was sorry now. It was too late—he didn’t deserve them.

  The guy is dying, asshole. Are you that devoid of compassion?

  But all it took was thinking about my mother alone in her hospital room, her body weak from two years of chemo and radiation that hadn’t cured her, her shaky voice asking if we’d heard from him, to harden my resolve. He hadn’t been there for her in the end. I didn’t have to be there for him. If that made me a heartless bastard, so be it.

  At one point, I went into the house to use the bathroom, and as I was coming back through the kitchen, Winnie was coming in. “Hey,” she said, looking at me with concern. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “I already said it was,” I snapped.

  “I know, but you don’t seem like you’re having much fun.”

  “Well, you don’t know me.”

  Her expression went from worried to hurt. “Dex, I just—”

  “Look, just because we fucked doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything. Leave me alone.” Hating myself, I shouldered by and went back outside.

  When she came out a few minutes later, the color had drained from her face, and her nose looked a little pink, like maybe she’d been crying. She didn’t sit next to me like she had been before—instead she took a seat next to my sister and asked if she could hold the baby.

  Furious and having only myself to blame, I slouched lower in my chair like a toddler in time-out and ignored everyone.

  I was in such a shitty mood, I didn’t even stay as late as I could have, despite the fact that Naomi never sent a pestering text. Around four, I collected the girls, who complained about leaving and crabbed the whole way home, which only made me crankier. I yelled at them to stop fucking whining, which made Luna cry and Hallie give me the evil eye in the rearview mirror.

  “You don’t have a ten anymore, Daddy. You have a one.”

  Next to me, Winnie sat with her palms pressed together between her knees, totally silent. When we pulled up in my driveway, she barely waited before the car was in park before getting out. “Bye, girls,” she said, giving them a quick wave before going into her house.

  “Is Winnie mad at us?” Luna asked tearfully.

  “No. She’s mad at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I snapped before taking the edge off my tone. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I exhaled. “Please just go in the house and pack your bags.”

  After returning the girls to Naomi—they gave me hugs goodbye I didn’t deserve—and telling them to have a good first day at school tomorrow, I went home and threw myself facedown on the couch. I had laundry to do and dishes to put away and bathrooms to clean, but I didn’t feel like doing any of it. I just wanted to stew in my anger and self-righteousness.

  Because I was fucking right, wasn�
��t I? Bree was wrong, and I was right. It was like she’d erased all the horrible memories of what it was like every time he decided to show up in our lives. It was bad enough that we’d gone through it—why would she want to subject our children to the same bullshit? And what for? So they could learn they had a grandfather just to watch him die? What kind of stories were we supposed to tell about him?

  Still . . . I know I shouldn’t have spoken to Winnie like that.

  Hallie was right. I was an ogre.

  Flopping onto my back, I draped an arm over my forehead. Every time I thought about the hurt expression on her face when I’d snapped at her, or her pink nose when she came outside and didn’t want to be near me, my chest caved. But apologies didn’t come easy to me—mostly I was the kind of guy who’d rather dig his heels in and claw at the dirt than admit he was wrong or at fault.

  And really . . . was I all that wrong? What was so bad about what I’d said? It was the truth! It’s not like we were dating. But it reminded me of the guilt I felt after Naomi would accuse me of shutting down or pushing her away. “You make it painful to love you,” she’d say. “Why won’t you let me in?”

  I scowled, the old resentment bleeding fresh. I’d never asked her to love me. This was why I was better off alone. I didn’t want to owe anyone an explanation or an apology. I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s feelings. I couldn’t be trusted with them.

  In the end, I lay there so long I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was dark, and I sat up, groggy and disoriented. Checking my phone, I discovered it was after nine o’clock. I also discovered I’d missed a call from my sister and a text from Justin asking if I was okay.

  But I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Exhaling, I set my phone aside and rubbed my face with both hands. There was a gaping pit in my stomach, and my head was throbbing.

  I turned off all the lights and went upstairs to bed.

  Seventeen

  Dex

  I was prepared for Justin to grill me at work the next morning, but he didn’t. In fact, he said nothing to me at all, which made me feel even worse.