The Single Dad's Second Chance. Brenda Harlen
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“I got the standard four-year degree in four years.”
She had a lot more questions, but he turned the focus back to her. “Did you meet Holly at college?”
“No, we go way back to the second grade when Holly’s parents split up and she and her brother came to Charisma to live with her grandmother. We first decided we would go into business together when we were in fifth grade, but we didn’t know the business was going to be flowers.”
“How did that come about?”
“We both majored in business, but Holly liked to try a lot of different things and occasionally took courses just for fun. One of those was a floral-design class offered on Saturday mornings, and she fell in love with it.”
“So you’re the ‘Buds’ of Buds & Blooms,” he realized. “Clever.”
“We thought so,” she agreed. “Most people assume ‘Buds’ is a reference to undeveloped flowers—and it is. But we liked that it was also an abbreviation of buddies.”
And since she’d already told him far more than she intended, she said, “So tell me about you—what do you do?”
“Nothing very exciting,” he warned.
“You mean you’re not a NASA astronaut or government spy?”
He chuckled. “Unfortunately, no. I’m a carpenter.”
Which explained his strong and confident hands. “What kind of carpentry do you do?
“Mostly finish work and cabinetry.”
“So you’re a detail man,” she surmised.
“I guess that’s a fair assessment.” He turned into the parking lot of PNC Arena.
“Do you like your work?”
“Most days.”
“Then you’re doing the right thing.”
The parking lot was rapidly filling up, so he drove directly to the gate. “Why don’t you get out here and I’ll meet you inside after I’ve parked the car?”
“Okay,” she agreed, and added chivalrous to the ever-growing list she was compiling. Obviously his mother had raised him to treat a girl right—and this girl’s heart was already starting to go pitter-patter.
It’s just a basketball game, she reminded herself. Not a date. He was only there with her because Holly had bailed and Rachel happened to have an extra ticket. And she might almost have believed this was just an impromptu outing between casual acquaintances, except for that kiss.
She had to stop thinking about that kiss.
Because every minute that she spent with him, she found him more attractive and appealing, and she wasn’t looking for any kind of romantic involvement at this point in her life. She wasn’t ready to end her dating hiatus just yet. She didn’t want to feel all the feelings he stirred up inside her. In fact, she almost hoped that he would shove popcorn into his mouth by the handful or slurp on his soda or send text messages throughout the game so that she could focus on some annoying behavior and stop thinking about the feel of his mouth on hers.
* * *
He shouldn’t have kissed her.
Not that Andrew regretted the off-the-charts lip-lock they’d shared, but he knew it would have been smarter to resist the impulse that urged him to sample the taste and texture of her temptingly curved mouth. Because now he couldn’t think about anything but the softness of her lips, the sweet flavor of her and the surprising passion in her response.
And no matter how many times he told himself that what he’d shared with Rachel was just a kiss, he wasn’t reassured. Because now he wanted to kiss her again and again, and he wanted those kisses to lead to more. A lot more.
He spotted her immediately when he walked through the doors. She was standing just inside, waiting for him. He wondered how it was that he’d been into her shop more than half a dozen times over the past few years, had several conversations with her and never noticed how truly beautiful she was.
Sure, he’d felt a subtle buzz, but until their paths had crossed at Valentino’s two weeks ago, he’d never seen her as anything other than the woman who worked at the flower shop. Maybe, prior to that day, he hadn’t been ready to see her as anything more.
Her lips curved when she spotted him, and his gaze automatically dipped to the soft, sweet mouth. There was no doubt he was feeling the attraction now.
“Popcorn?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she agreed.
He bought a large popcorn and a couple of drinks, then they went to find their seats.
The last time he’d been at the arena was with Maura. A guy at work had a couple of tickets to a Hurricanes game that he couldn’t use, so he gave them to Andrew. And they were great seats, too.
His daughter, unfortunately, had been less than thrilled with the close-up view of players ruthlessly crushed against the glass. And when a little bit of jostling ended with the gloves dropping and fists pumping, she’d started to cry. They’d left before the end of the second period.
Thinking about Maura at that game reminded him that he hadn’t mentioned his daughter to Rachel.
He wasn’t deliberately keeping the existence of his child a secret from her—he just hadn’t yet found a way to bring her name into the conversation. Maybe he hadn’t tried too hard, but, truthfully, he was enjoying talking about other things for a change. The basic getting-to-know-one-another conversations always seemed to take on a different tone whenever he revealed that he was a single father.
Some women weren’t interested in playing mommy to another woman’s child, but in Andrew’s recent and admittedly limited dating experience, most of them tried to use the existence of his motherless child to worm their way into his affections.
He didn’t disagree that a child needed a mother, and he felt fortunate that both his mother and his former mother-in-law were close to Maura. He also had three female cousins who doted on his little girl, so she had plenty of women in her life. And although a couple of his dates had expressed an interest in meeting his daughter, none of them had ever done so.
It was too early to decide whether or not Rachel would be the first, but if he planned to see her again after tonight, he knew that he had to tell her about Maura. Not now—not in the midst of a crowded arena only minutes before the game was scheduled to start, but definitely before their relationship progressed further than a few kisses.
As the players continued their warm-ups, he glanced over at Rachel and discovered that the low V-neckline of her soft pink sweater afforded him a tempting view of pale skin and a hint of shadowy cleavage.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The initial attraction to Rachel had been nothing more than a mild curiosity, a subtle stirring in his blood. Then they’d had dinner together on Valentine’s Day, and they’d talked and laughed and he’d realized he actually liked her. That, combined with the attraction, changed everything for him. Or maybe it was the first kiss—the impulsive touch of her lips to his cheek. But somewhere along the line, what had started as a subtle stirring in his blood had escalated to a raging hunger, so that he actually ached with wanting her.
Was it simply a matter of timing? Was he finally ready to move on with his life? Or was it Rachel? Was there something about this specific woman that got to him?
He reached for more popcorn, and his fingers brushed over the back of her hand. The casual touch sent heat coursing through his veins, and the little catch in her breath confirmed that she’d felt something, too. Her gaze lifted to his, her blue eyes wide, aware. Her slightly parted lips glistened with butter, tempting him to lick it away.
The sound of a buzzer made both of them jump, and he forced his attention back to the court.
* * *
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