Taking a Chance on the Single Dad

by Sue MacKay

  ‘You’re forgetting you did try. I refused to answer your phone calls, remember? I deleted your emails unopened and burned the letters you wrote. I had to, or I wouldn’t have survived.’

  Her smile widened. ‘We can both be stubborn when we want to be.’

  ‘Now, there’s something I agree with wholeheartedly.’ He sighed. This wasn’t going too badly. Yet. ‘It’s all very well looking back and saying we shouldn’t have done this or that, but at the time that’s how we dealt with what was happening.’

  She reached a hand to him and he took it, wrapped his fingers around hers and held on for dear life. Maybe it was going just how he wanted it. They were finding their way back to each other, though there were still things to sift through, making sure they didn’t crash and burn a second time.

  ‘Dad, can I go for a swim?’

  Hunter groaned and dragged his eyes from the woman holding his heart. ‘All right. I’ll get your towel from the car.’ He looked back at Brenna and his heart stuttered. ‘This is real, isn’t it?’

  Her fingers touched her lips, and she nodded. ‘I hope so.’ She was still smiling, and there was something he was afraid to identify in her gaze in case he got it wrong. Love. For him? For him.

  ‘Bren?’

  ‘Go get Dylan’s towel, and maybe lock your vehicle.’

  He spun around and muttered an oath. ‘That’s your fault for distracting me, Brenna Williamson.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Brenna, Poppy’s swimming.’ Dylan stood next to her, hands on hips, staring down the beach. ‘I want to swim too.’

  ‘In a minute, kiddo.’ Dylan was giving him breathing space, yet he didn’t want to stop telling Brenna all the things that had been building up inside from the moment he’d first walked into the rescue hangar, to let free all the words that were freefalling through his skull onto his tongue. He increased his strides, reaching the four-wheel drive and grabbing the bag with Dylan’s gear. Picked up his wallet from the seat and shoved it deep into a pocket. Shut the door. Pinged the locks. Took a deep breath and gazed down the beach to the woman who held his heart in her hand.

  Then he was back with Brenna and they were strolling down to the water, hand in hand. ‘Okay, Dylan, now I’m here you can go in.’

  He didn’t need any more encouragement.

  ‘I can’t move away in case he gets into difficulties,’ Hunter told Brenna.

  ‘I’d beat you round the ears if you did.’ She moved closer, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  ‘Now, there’s a surprise.’ He stared at Dylan and the dog but wasn’t really seeing them. It was the past rolling through his head. ‘I loved you even when I told you it was over.’

  She nodded. ‘I know. I was only thinking of myself, wanting you to come back to me. After you kept refusing to answer my calls and texts, I began to get angry. You were another person leaving me, and I didn’t look beyond that to the fact that you’d told me so often how much you loved me and wanted us to spend our lives together.’

  ‘When I stopped coming into work at the rescue centre it was Dylan who was sick. He had some gastro bug that was doing the rounds at preschool.’

  ‘Poor kid. That’s not nice.’ She locked her gaze on him. ‘You must realise I wondered if you’d gone east after hearing you talking to your mother, and I tried not to think of that as a rerun. Then I wised up, accepted you meant you are staying and if you had to go visit your parents then that was what families do.’

  Relief softened away the last drop of tension in his belly. ‘Thank you.’ There was one more thing he had to get out in the open before the past was done. ‘I’m not sorry about Evie. Neither can I imagine life without Dylan.’

  ‘You shouldn’t.’ Under his hand she stiffened, then relaxed. ‘I nearly got married myself. I met Shane about three years ago and we hit it off straight away.’

  A pang of jealousy he had no right to flared. ‘Go on.’

  ‘We were easy together, sort of drifted along, enjoying similar things, comfortable really.’

  ‘Sounds dull.’ Hope replaced the envy.

  ‘Not dull, but there was no excitement. Yet when Shane proposed I accepted. You were out of the picture for good as far as I could see so I wanted to try for that happy family I’d envisioned when we were together.’ She stopped. Her right foot drew lines in the sand, smudged them out. ‘But it was wrong, for both of us, and in the end we called it off. We’re still friends with no regrets. Shane’s found someone else and this time he’s definitely in love.’ She sounded happy about that.

  Hunter let it go. Shane was her Evie and, face it, if neither of them had had relationships in the previous six years they probably wouldn’t be much good for anything now. ‘Will you come back to my house when these two have finished swimming? There’s a top-notch bottle of champagne in the fridge, and dinner waiting to be heated.’

  Bren looked up at him and grinned. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Hell, no.’

  He couldn’t wait to get home and put Dylan to bed, but it was only four in the afternoon. ‘This is going to be the longest afternoon of my life.’

  ‘Half the fun’s in the build-up,’ she retorted, before rising on her toes to kiss him thoroughly so that he’d have pulled her down onto the sand and had her there and then if not for his son only metres away. And half the population of Kitsilano on the beach.

  * * *

  Finally, dog and boy had had enough. Hunger had overtaken the need to stay wet and sandy. Hunter packed them into his vehicle, Poppy in the back looking concerned. ‘It’s all right. I’ll go very slowly.’

  ‘Unless you want a mess to clean up, that’s wise.’ Brenna rubbed Poppy’s chest. ‘You’ll be fine, girl.’

  And she had been. Frustrating as it was, Hunter had driven slower than a snail, making Bren laugh.

  ‘Relax. It’s not as though Dylan’s going to sleep as soon as we get there.’

  ‘No, but he’ll have dinner straight away and be ready for bed.’

  And we’ll be in my bed not long after.

  At last they rolled into his driveway and parked. ‘Phew. Thought we’d never get here.’

  ‘We’ve waited more than six years, Hunter. What’s a few more hours?’ Brenna teased.

  ‘You mean this is like it used to be?’ His heart waited for her reply.

  The laughter diminished, was replaced with a soft, gut-wrenching smile. ‘Yes. When we were openly in love. Not lately when neither of us knew what we wanted or were denying the feelings we had for each other.’

  ‘Then we’re in for an amazing night.’ If Dylan didn’t wake up. Be just their luck if tonight was be one of his restless sleeps. ‘Let’s get dinner under way.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can eat at the moment,’ Bren confessed.

  ‘Soon fix that.’ He laughed. ‘What’s this?’ There was a container by his door and when he opened it the smell of banana wafted out. Dipping a finger into the creamy icing, he poked a dollop into his mouth and grinned. ‘You made this.’

  Brenna nodded. ‘Like I said, Poppy and I came round earlier. I wanted to sit down and talk about everything and figured making your favourite cake wouldn’t hurt.’

  It was silly. It was only a cake, right? But right then he knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let Bren get away again. Handing the container to Dylan, he said, ‘Take that inside for me, will you?’ Then he reached for Bren’s hands. ‘You’re shaking.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you a second time.’

  ‘It’s not going to happen.’ Hunter leaned in close and kissed her gently. ‘Bren, I love you, never stopped. Will you marry me? Help me raise Dylan? Have more children with me? Live in my house and make it ours?’

  She blinked once, twice, three times, and then her eyes were ablaze with love, like she’d finally let
go all her worries. Because of him. For him. ‘Yes, yes and yes. And yes. All of the above. I love you so much I want this more than anything. Us and those dreams we once shared, however much they’ve morphed into other ideas.’

  Hunter tugged her close and covered her mouth with his. Their kiss seemed to go on for ever. Brenna had never tasted so sweet, so exciting. She was back. They were back. ‘Love you,’ he whispered.

  ‘The things you’ll say to get someone to plan your colour schemes for the house.’ She grinned.

  He slapped his forehead. ‘You see through me too easily.’

  ‘I might want to paint it lime green and orange.’

  ‘You can do what you like as long as you keep making those cakes.’

  ‘I’ve forgotten the recipe already.’

  He led her through the front door. ‘Welcome home, Bren.’

  If he’d thought she’d been crying before, he hadn’t had a clue. ‘This is going to take a box of tissues to deal with.’

  Both her hands wiped at her eyes, her cheeks, and then she gave him her best, melt-the-toes, tighten-the-groin, smother-the-heart smile. ‘I must’ve had an inkling. I’ve been talking to a real estate salesperson about selling my house.’

  ‘You’ve what? Why? That’s your haven.’

  ‘Exactly, and it’s time I let it go. Especially now we’re together again. For ever together.’

  She truly loved him. ‘It might be me needing those tissues,’ he croaked.

  ‘Shall we tell the kids?’ She stepped inside his—their—house and closed the door on the street. Shut them in with their love and dreams and family.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sue MacKay

  Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon

  The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby

  ER Doc’s Forever Gift

  Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Healing the Single Dad’s Heart by Scarlet Wilson.

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  Healing the Single Dad’s Heart

  by Scarlet Wilson

  CHAPTER ONE

  ON PAPER, THE journey had seemed so long. But for Joe it had been a blink-and-you’ve-missed-it kind of day. Go and show your little boy a part of the world where you can make some new memories. That was what his mother had said to him as she’d handed him the plane tickets to Vietnam.

  She had been right. He’d known she was right. And that she was finally giving him the push he needed.

  After that, everything had passed in a blur. Getting all their vaccinations, finishing up at work, packing, handing over his house keys to a letting agency and making sure all his mail was redirected to his mother’s house.

  By the time he’d sat down on the plane he had been well and truly ready for a rest. But his stomach had had other ideas. It had fluttered in a weird kind of way. It had been so long since he’d felt excitement about something he almost hadn’t recognised the sensation.

  Regan had loved the journey. Between watching movies, eating snacks, sleeping and asking questions he’d been a great travelling companion. And now, as they came in to land at Hanoi airport Regan stared in wonder at the green landscape. ‘It’s just like home!’ he said with a smile.

  Joe couldn’t stop the ache in his heart. This whole trip was about moving on. He got that. Inside he was ready—up until now he just hadn’t quite managed to take the steps. But every now and then Regan did something—it could be a wave of his hand or a look in his eye—that reminded him of Esther. He’d never push away the ache that came from knowing she couldn’t see this—couldn’t share this moment and be proud of their son and the bright, brave little boy he was becoming.

  Joe leaned over and stared out of the window too. He’d half expected to see a city landscape but it seemed Hanoi landing strips were just as green as Glasgow’s. Maybe this place would be more familiar than he expected.

  The airport was filled with a melee of people. Joe held tightly to Regan’s hand as they navigated through passport control and collected their luggage. A guy dressed in a white shirt and casual trousers was leaning against a pillar, holding a piece of paper with their names hastily scrawled in black on it.

  Dr Joe Lennox and son

  He juggled pulling the cases while still keeping hold of Regan as he gave the guy a nod. Around him a dozen languages were being spoken. He just prayed this guy spoke a little English.

  ‘Dr Joe?’ the guy asked.

  He nodded again. The guy held out his hand. ‘Rudi. I’m your ride to the May Mắn Hospital.’ He grabbed hold of the two cases and started walking quickly to the exit. ‘From Scotland?’ he said over his shoulder.

  Joe nodded again and bent to pick up Regan, lengthening his strides to keep up.

  ‘I know all the football teams. Which is your favourite?’

  Joe laughed. It didn’t matter where he went on the planet, Scotland was known for its football and most conversations started off this way.

  It didn’t take them long to hit hectic traffic. It seemed the whole world travelled by scooter or motorbike in Hanoi. Regan was tired and tucked in under Joe’s arm, snuggling against his chest.

  For the briefest of seconds Joe had a moment of doubt. What if Regan didn’t like it here? He didn’t have his grandparents for reassurance. This was completely different from anything Regan had experienced before. As he brushed his hand over his son’s soft hair, he had a flashback to Esther. Regan shared his mother’s adventurous spirit. No matter what they tried, Regan tended to jump in with both feet. Like most young boys he was fearless. And that made Joe’s heart swell. He didn’t ever want his son to lose that element.

  After half an hour Joe couldn’t resist winding down the window in the car to let the sounds and smells of the city surround them. The first thing that struck him was how busy the place was, how packed in everything looked, from people to shops to transport to homes.

  Colour was everywhere. They drove by a row of shops with red, blue and yellow awnings, while packed above, almost squashed together, were flats.

  One was in pink brick, with a balcony on each level, next door was white, with plants trailing down towards the awning beneath, next was the thinnest block of flats he’d ever seen, its first balcony entirely taken up with a dining table and chairs. Next came a pale blue block, littered with children’s toys, then a flat of unknown colour because green foliage completely covered the roof and the outside walls.

  It was like a higgledy-piggledy town
constructed from a kid’s set of building blocks, and it was utterly charming. The area in front of the shops was packed with street vendors, food carts, a variety of tourist souvenirs and brightly coloured long-sleeved shirts. A tiny part of the chaos of the stalls reminded him of the Barrowlands back home in Glasgow. He smiled as he wondered if the street vendors here used as colourful language as the guys back home.

  The driver pointed out places as they drove into the Ba Dinh district—then into the French quarter. The French Colonial architecture was evident all around them, but as they passed through, it was clear they were moving further away from the more tourist-oriented areas and out towards the suburbs. It was denser here, street vendors everywhere, but poverty was evident at every turn. A little prickle ran down his spine. Again, it reminded him of home. His GP surgery served one of the most deprived areas of Glasgow.

  Children were running happily through the streets, and even though they were still in the city, strips of green occasionally showed. The taxi turned down a slightly wider street. The houses were different here, not as packed in as before. These looked like private residences, each with a little more ground around them.

  The taxi driver pulled up in front of a large, pale yellow two-storey French colonial-style house that was a little shabby around the edges. There was a sign just above the door: ‘May Mắn Hospital’. The driver turned and smiled, gesturing at the sign and getting out to open the door for them. Joe lifted Regan into his arms and stepped out, letting the close, warm air surround him. ‘Bit of a temperature change from Scotland,’ he said quietly to himself, turning his head from side to side to take in his surroundings.

  There were several similar-style buildings. What once must have been residences seemed to have been converted. Two appeared to be restaurants, another a hotel. It was clear that once the houses had been very grand, though now they all looked a bit run-down. Paintwork was a little faded, some shutters on the windows slightly crooked, and most of the houses gave a general air of tiredness. The only thing that seemed bright was the sign above the door: May Mắn Hospital.