A Sweetheart for the Single Dad. Victoria Pade
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won’t,” she promised as her grandmother stood to leave.
“Keep me posted,” the elderly woman said by way of a goodbye.
“I will,” Lindie assured her.
Once she was alone in her office she chastised herself for what she’d said.
Technically it was true that she was volunteering at the center to see Sawyer again. But it wasn’t as if seeing him again was for pleasure.
And yet...
Okay, she was looking forward to seeing him again, she admitted to herself. She didn’t want to be, but she couldn’t help it.
The guy was great-looking. He was intelligent. Interesting. He had a sense of humor.
And she was only human. If she’d met him at a party she would have hoped he’d ask for her number or ask her out.
But even if they’d met under those circumstances, even if there wasn’t history between their families to start things off on the wrong foot, even if he wasn’t her business foe, he still wasn’t someone she would be looking at as a potential partner, she reminded herself.
At thirty she knew it would be naive and unrealistic to expect to meet eligible men who didn’t have any romantic problems in their past at all. Sure, she’d never been married, didn’t have any kids, and it would be nice to find someone in that same situation. Someone who’d had just a couple of serious relationships in their past to teach them a thing or two and leave them with valuable experience that wasn’t baggage they’d never be able to leave behind.
So given that that requirement might narrow the field a little too much, she was okay with a past that included a divorce. She even tried to look on the bright side by acknowledging that while a divorce was a bigger deal than a long-term romance gone bad, she could still consider it evidence that the man could make a serious commitment, that he could get all the way to the altar.
What she didn’t want was a man who had a child.
She loved kids. She wanted kids. But she really wanted her kids to be the only kids her husband had. She really didn’t want someone who was pulled in two directions—toward the family he had with her and the family he’d started with someone else.
At thirty she knew that also narrowed the field, but that was a narrowing she was willing to accept to have a man without lifelong complications from his past.
And Sawyer Huffman had a child.
To her that put an immediate kibosh on the slightest idea of anything romantic between them, even if there weren’t the obstacles of family history and business.
It was just that the man also had a lot to offer at a glance...
Those looks.
That confident, brash, strong personality tempered with humor and what appeared to be an even temper.
That sexiness that just seemed to be natural to him without him putting any effort into it.
And that whole fighting-for-the-underdog determination that really hit home for her.
That was a whole lot that was impossible to ignore and, yes, it did make her want to see him again.
But if she controlled anything, she vowed, it was going to be what she would only admit reluctantly might be an attraction to him.
Because there just wasn’t anywhere for that to go. There just wasn’t anywhere she wanted it to go. Anywhere she would let it go.
As far as she was concerned, Sawyer Huffman already had three strikes against him.
The bad history between their families, their professional conflicts and a child.
And that counted him out as a relationship prospect regardless of his appeal.
Because as determined as she was to get this job she’d been given done, she was even more determined about that!
* * *
Angel, Casey, Biz—who was really Elizabeth—and Clara. Lindie had repeated the names of the four Murphy sisters several times to remember which was which as she worked with them in the community center’s kitchen that afternoon. Angel was the oldest at eleven, Casey was nine, Biz was eight and Clara was seven.
They were the four girls whose dad had died, whose mother had turned to computer crime to support them, who were now living with their grandmother while their mother went to jail.
When Lindie had arrived at the center she’d again said only that she was there to see Sawyer. But this time she was asked her name and when she gave it—only Lindie—the woman who introduced herself as Marie greeted her warmly and said, “Sawyer told us you might be coming to volunteer.”
Marie had then cheerily explained that she was the volunteer coordinator and that it was her job to familiarize new volunteers with the center’s layout and to put them to work.
A tour was the first order of business and as Lindie was shown the recreation room, she saw Sawyer in the distance at a chess table, playing chess with the boy—Parker Cauzel—who he’d been asked to talk to on Monday.
Sawyer appeared to be watching for her because he spotted her the minute she entered the rec room and waved. But that was the extent of their interaction. He stayed at the chess table and Marie kept Lindie occupied.
It made her wonder if he’d set up the whole thing to make sure she didn’t get to him. And while that frustrated and concerned her since she was there expressly for the purpose of seeing him, it also disappointed her and struck a bit of a blow to her ego.
He’d warned her that he spent Thursdays with the kids and wouldn’t be available to her. But she hadn’t taken that too seriously.
Since she’d been so eager to get there today to see him, it was a little demoralizing to think that he hadn’t been as eager to see her; that instead he might have arranged for her to be intercepted by someone else to keep her away from him.
In fact, it was more than a little demoralizing.
But with no choice except to go through the new-volunteer orientation with Marie, that’s what Lindie did. When it came to deciding where her skills could be best used and she tried for the rec room, she was told that there were enough volunteers in the rec room today. Instead she was steered toward the kitchen where help was needed.
Still, making the best of the situation and hoping to connect with him later, Lindie had jumped in in the kitchen and accepted the assignment of making a snack using what was available—several boxes of graham crackers.
Since there were also the ingredients for frosting, Lindie made a suggestion and got the okay before she was left with the four Murphy girls to get to work.
“This was our favorite afterschool snack when I was little,” she said as she taught the girls how to make a simple chocolate frosting. Then she and the two older Murphys spread the frosting on one side of graham crackers, handing them over to the younger girls to top with a second graham cracker and stack on plates.
As they worked it didn’t take much for the girls to warm up to her—they were impressed with her hair and interested in how she twisted it in back and left curls to erupt out of the twist at her crown. They liked her simple twill slacks and the embroidery down the front of her blouse. They loved her shoes—ballet flats that were the same blue-black of her pants and had white polka dots all over them.
The longer they worked together, the more they interjected information about themselves, too, letting Lindie get to know them. She concluded that they were lovely, polite little girls trying to cover up the fact that their mother had done something wrong.
By the time they had several plates stacked with the graham cracker sandwiches, which the sisters were very impressed with, Lindie was beginning to feel like one of the girls.
“Do we bring these around to everyone now?”