Single All the Way (Single Dads of Dragonfly Lake #2)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Emerson

B y the time our last client left Friday, my stylists and I were exhausted but in good spirits. We hadn’t had a single no-show all day, all of us with our chairs filled with a nonstop stream of customers, most of them regulars, getting prepped for the holiday season, sharing Thanksgiving stories, and tipping generously.

“That was a heck of a day,” Gustie said as she switched the sign from open to closed. She was seventy-six years old, a dear woman who’d been doing hair for longer than I’d been alive. She swore she’d work till the day she keeled over, not for the money but for the socializing.

Edith, a lifesaver who did everything except hair for us, proclaimed, “We’ve never sold so much product in one day. I’ve already started an order to restock.”

“The snacks were a hit,” Claire, our newest stylist, said.

“I know they saved my life,” Raelynn said in her deep drawl. “I didn’t have an extra second for lunch. Couple bites of cheese and a slice of summer sausage between clients was perfect.”

“You all did fantastic today,” I said, ducking into the back room to grab a bottle of champagne. “Thank you, ladies.”

“Black Friday tips always make it a worthwhile day,” Willow said, and everyone agreed. “I could sleep until Monday though.”

“I know you all want to get home as soon as possible, but we deserve a quick toast.”

“Mmm, it’s bubbly time,” Raelynn said.

I poured a flute for each of the seven of us. “To the best team anywhere,” I said, meaning it. We clinked and sipped and hashed out the day and the best stories we’d heard.

I’d brought champagne last year too as an insufficient but well-received thank-you. No question we’d all rather shop till we dropped or stay at home out of the crowds on Black Friday, but these girls pulled together to make it a festive, high-energy, lucrative day.

I guess maybe I did have my own little holiday tradition, Black Friday champagne for the girls, I realized, my mind slipping to Ben not for the first time today.

I’d fielded questions about him and me throughout the day and taken the opportunity to set the record straight that we were just good friends who went way back. Of course, that elicited more than a couple responses insisting that’s what the best marriages were made of. I’d laughed it off heartily every time, hiding the way the m-word made me shudder.

Thanksgiving with Ben, his kids, and Berty was everything he’d promised, the kind of holiday depicted in Norman Rockwell paintings. Every last one of us had helped prepare the feast. We were blessed with way more delicious food than we’d eat in a week.

Before eating, we’d gone around the table and shared what we were most thankful for. When Ben had mentioned it a few days earlier, it had sounded simple and cliché, but the reality was a touching few minutes that reminded my too-busy self of the purpose of the holiday. I’d needed that reminder more than I’d realized.

We’d ended Turkey Day downtown on the square for the annual tree-lighting ceremony, with hot cocoa for everyone. Ben and I had kept the kids between us, like a silent promise to not touch each other again.

We’d focused on the children, making sure they had a magical time, ensuring Skyler was caught up in it every minute. My daughter had chattered nonstop on the way home in Ben’s oversized truck that shocked me by seating six. It was as if it was made for our group.

Thanksgiving had been an alternate reality in a good way, and I had no complaints.

I was packing up what was left of the charcuterie and cookie trays when the bells on the front door of the old-house-turned-salon jingled.

“Mommy!” Skyler hollered before I could turn to see who’d entered. She ran over to me, all the ladies greeting her, Xavier, Ben, and his kids.

As I reached down to catch Skyler, I met Ben’s warm gaze across the room and felt a spark down to my toes. He smiled, and it felt like it was just for me.

Then I did a reality check and reminded myself, Of course he’s happy to see me. He’s been in charge of four kids under ten for hours on end .

“Hey, guys,” I said, picking up Skyler and pulling Xavier into my side with my other hand. “How are my favorite humans?”

I listened as my son told me all about the scavenger hunt, with the other three kiddos excitedly adding details about the grab bags they’d received at the end. My stylists got into the conversation as we sipped our champagne. Ben came closer and said how well behaved the kids had been.

“We’ve had a fun day, haven’t we, kids?”

All four of them enthusiastically agreed. I set Skyler on the floor and watched dutifully as they displayed the trinkets from their prize bags.

“With all that loot, Santa won’t have to worry about you guys this year,” I teased.

“Noo!” Ruby said. “We have to write our Santa letters, Daddy.”

With a laugh, Ben said, “Of course we will. You can use your new glitter pen.”

“I got a purple one, and Evelyn got green,” Ruby said.

“I didn’t get a glitter pen,” Xavier said. “I got a silver marker.”

“I got a pink one!” Sky hollered.

“You must be exhausted,” I said quietly to Ben.

“I’m doing okay. You’re the one who worked all day. I bet you’re ready to relax.”

“That wouldn’t suck,” I said. “I’m also starving, so let me lock up, and we can go home for dinner. I’ll cook.” It was the least I could do.

“Nope.”

“Nope?” I stopped in the middle of packing the last of the cookies. “You don’t like my cooking?”

“I fucking love your cooking,” he said so only I could hear, in part because the stylists were fully engaged with the kids and weren’t paying attention. “But tonight we’re all going to Henry’s.”

“I love Henry’s, but you realize there’s probably a two-hour wait?”

“There might well be, but not for us. We’ve got reservations.”

I snapped my gaze to him to gauge whether he was serious, because…a meal cooked by professionals? An adult beverage or two? A chance to sit on my tired butt without lifting a finger? It sounded like pure heaven. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve got about fifteen minutes to walk there and claim it.” He looked startled for a moment. “If you’re not done here, the kids and I can go save it, and you can join us when you’re able.”

“We’re nearly done.” I glanced around. Most of the flutes were empty and stations were tidy.

“I can lock up tonight, Emerson,” Gustie said as she approached, as if she sensed my dilemma.

“Ben made reservations at Henry’s for us,” I explained.

As Ben leaned down to address something Skyler was saying to him, Gustie said next to my ear, “Honey, if you don’t get out of here with that handsome fella, then I will. Go have fun.”

“The kids are going too,” I clarified, because the growly tone in her voice said her thoughts had gone somewhere else entirely.

“Mm-hmm. He’s a catch. Enjoy yourself, kids or not. We girls’ll be outta here in a few.”

“It’s not like that,” I said in a quiet singsong, then switched to a normal volume. “But thank you for locking up.”

Soon we were making our way down the crowded downtown sidewalks toward Henry’s, Evelyn and Skyler leading the way, holding hands, Xavier and Ruby following them, and Ben and me bringing up the end, side by side.

With my guard down after a really good day, I wove my arm through his and grasped his biceps, noticing how solid they were. This man… He was something else. His superpower was sensing exactly what I needed at any given moment. That might just be my kryptonite. And honestly, as the champagne started to buzz through my veins and make my brain fuzzy and warm, I wasn’t entirely sure weakening temporarily where he was concerned was off the table. As long as it was understood that it was in fact temporary.

“Do you feel it?” Ben asked in a low voice.

We were at Henry’s at one of the high-top tables. The kids had fought for the four swiveling stools with backs as if they offered as many thrills as an amusement park ride, leaving Ben and me sitting side by side on the elevated booth that ran the length of the wall.

“Feel what?” I asked. I was for sure feeling a lot of things at the moment, from the heat of his leg just inches from my thigh to the rum in my Santa’s hat martini.

“Holiday spirit?”

I raised a brow at him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Even a little?” he persisted.

Giving in to a smile, I said, “You must think I’m a big Scrooge. This is festive.”

My cocktail itself was enough to make a girl love Christmas. It was bright red with a sweetened coconut rim to look like the white fluff of Santa’s hat. It tasted even better than it looked, of cranberry, grenadine, and coconut.

Henry’s was decked out to the hilt in a tasteful, classic way. The full wall of windows that looked out on the lake during the day was rimmed with evergreen garlands and white fairy lights. The deck was closed to diners for the season, but it held a dozen lighted Christmas trees that were visible from every table inside. The walkway to the water, and even the dock, was lined with thousands of white fairy lights and also visible from inside.

“Confession?” I said even more quietly, leaning closer. “I was overdosed on holiday music before noon today.”

Ben laughed. “That’s fair. I’ve always wondered how retailers can stand the same songs over and over for a month.”

“It makes me crave a little Nirvana or Pearl Jam.”

“The grunge bands of our childhood will never get old,” he said.

The kids were engrossed in coloring pictures of Santa standing in front of the restaurant, chattering back and forth about their day, generally ignoring Ben and me. It was a blessing how well these four got along.

“I’m done,” Xavier said, holding up his artwork.

“I love the colors you chose,” I said. Coloring wasn’t really his thing. He was the opposite of a precise, stay-within-the-lines kid. He’d chosen a deep purple for Santa’s suit.

“Santa should be red,” Ruby told him. She wasn’t even halfway done with hers yet because she was taking her time and going for perfection.

“My Santa’s red suit is in the laundry,” Xavier said, making all of us laugh. “What’s this?” He reached for the triangular table tent. “‘Your entry in the Dragonfly Lake Holiday Parade could win a prize,’” he read out loud. His brows shot up his forehead as he continued reading to himself. “Oh, we could win a hundred-dollar gift certificate to Earthly Charm! Or A Novel Place! Mom, can we make a float?”

There was nothing that sounded worse to me at that moment. Not even a school science project. “I don’t think so, Xav,” I said with zero hesitation. “That would take weeks of working every day on it. I have to work at the salon.”

He frowned. “I could do it by myself.”

I laughed softly. “Make a float? Let’s leave that to grown-ups, kiddo. We can go to the parade and pick our favorites, okay?”

“Dr. Ben could help me,” my son said, his tone hopeful.

With another laugh, I shut that down immediately. Ben was just crazy—and unselfish—enough he might consider it. “Dr. Ben has to work too, plus take care of all the animals. I’m sorry, sweetie. That’s a big project, and there just isn’t time for it.”

“What about our new gramma?” Skyler asked.

I was still puzzling through the new gramma bit when Ruby blurted out, “Grandma Berty could help us!”

My mouth gaped open, and I met Ben’s gaze for a moment. His eyes sparkled with amusement. I was more worried about setting the record straight.

“Even though we call her Grandma Berty, she’s not really our grandma,” I said carefully. “But we can still love her like a grandma, can’t we?”

“I love her already,” Skyler said.

“Grandma Berty’s the best,” Evelyn said authoritatively.

“We like Nana Kizzy too,” Xavier said, “but she lives far away now.”

The discussion switched to Kizzy’s upcoming visit, the big hotels in Vegas, the desert, the jungle, and a dozen other topics. Our appetizers of fried mozzarella and chips and artichoke dip arrived, and we dove into them, the kids’ conversation not missing a beat.

My festive cocktail was two-thirds gone. I made a point of stretching it out until the main dishes arrived, in part to prevent me from ordering another. With the champagne pre-drink, I was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol in my vision and my level of relaxation. Ben had told me when I considered ordering a cocktail that we could leave my car parked behind the salon for the night so I wouldn’t have to drive home.

Once again, he’d sensed I’d had a hard day and could use a drink, even though I was sure his day had worn him out just as much.

“Do you have any flaws?” I asked him quietly enough that the kids paid no attention. Maybe that was too personal, but I was relaxed and didn’t care. I was legitimately trying to find anything wrong with the man sitting next to me.

He laughed. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Not a joke. You put your kids first—and mine now—you take care of a jillion animals, you’re good to your grandma and include her in your daily lives. You’re thoughtful and seem to care about, like, everyone you meet. You always have a smile for people, even in the morning.”

“I like mornings.”

“That could be counted as a flaw in some circles,” I said, thinking hard about it and deciding it was not, in fact, a flaw because who wanted to deal with a grumpy grouch in the morning?

“You cook pretty good,” I continued, “run a successful business, and offer to take in homeless friends and their kids, over the holidays no less.”

“Plus I’m a good kisser,” he said into my ear.

Without thinking, I went for his thigh that was so close to mine with a half smack, half grab. “You’re awful,” I said as I turned my head and met his gaze, unable to hide my grin.

“Am I awful or perfect?” he asked, peering down at me and looking so damn handsome. He nudged his upper arm into mine as he said it, leaning against me for an extra moment.

Our gazes locked as I tried to think of how to answer, my brain just addled enough by alcohol that I found it a perplexing question. I stopped trying to answer, caught up in the depths of his cornflower-blue eyes with the crinkles just starting at the outer corners that spoke of years of kindness and laughter.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Ruby asked in a voice that wasn’t at all quiet or private.

I whipped my head toward the kids, my heart skipping a beat. Too late, I realized my hand was still clinging to Ben’s thigh under the table. I slid it away and put it in my lap, scanning the surrounding tables to check if anyone besides the four urchins at ours had noticed. No one appeared to have heard, not surprising since the acoustics of the room kept it difficult to hear specifics over the ongoing din of the crowded restaurant.

“Miss Emerson and me?” Ben said with a chuckle. “No. Remember, we’re friends from way back? We sometimes tease each other.”

“Do you sometimes kiss?” Ruby asked.

“Eww,” Evelyn said.

A lie was on the tip of my tongue just as Sarai, our server, popped up to the table with a large, dinner-laden tray.

“Who had the chicken tenders?” Sarai asked, drawing all four kids’ attention away from us.

“Saved by the server,” Ben muttered with a sheepish grin.

I tried to smile too, then turned my attention to the food.

It had become crystal clear in a heartbeat that, alcohol or no alcohol, I needed to be a lot more cautious about my growing attraction to Ben. There were four little humans who’d be deeply affected if they ever thought something was between him and me.