Misty and the Single Dad

‘No.’

‘Cocoa?’

‘No!’

‘That got a reaction,’ he said, and grinned. ‘You don’t see yourself as a cocoa girl?’

‘I have some living to do before then.’

‘This is a great spot to do some living,’ he said contentedly.

‘No,’ she said, and she remembered Frank’s words. They weren’t about her, she thought. It shouldn’t matter that one man had been trapped and turned bitter.

But, oh, the bitterness…

‘This might be a place for you to retreat to and live the rest of your life after danger,’ she whispered, bending to give Ketchup a pat, a scratch behind his ears, before she made her escape. ‘But for me it’s a place to come home to between living.’

He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Meaning I’ve never had danger at all,’ she told him. ‘Not…not that I want it. Of course I don’t. But I would have liked one little adventure before I retired to my rocker and cocoa.’

He was looking confused. As well he might, she thought. Her dreams were nothing to do with this man.

‘Sorry, I’m being dumb,’ she managed. ‘But I do need to do some work. Enjoy your evening.’ And she bolted through the screen door onto her side of the house before he could probe any more.

I’ve never had danger at all… What sort of stupid statement was that? But she knew what she meant.

‘Your list is hopeless,’ she whispered to herself as she closed the door on man and dogs. So stop rabbiting on about danger. About adventures.

Deep breath. ‘Okay,’ she told herself. ‘Let’s get this in perspective. Yes, I kissed him and yes, I liked it. Or more than liked it,’ she conceded. ‘But I won’t be kissed because I’m a safe haven. Nicholas Holt and his son are gorgeous but I’m not stupid. At least-please don’t let me be stupid. Please let me keep my head. Please don’t let me turn into Frank.

‘And please give me strength to stay on my side of the door.’

How could she live in the house and avoid him? She tried, but in the mornings when Bailey bounced through to be taken to school she couldn’t miss him.

She dressed early now-there was no way he was catching her in her nightwear again-but even when she was ready for them…

Nick leaned his long body against the kitchen bench while she finished her coffee and Bailey gave her a full report on all that had happened since she’d last seen him.

Seeing that was only since school finished the night before, it was hardly momentous but there was still a lot to tell-how many seagulls Took had chased, or that Dad had cooked sausages for them the night before-she’d smelled them and it had almost killed her not to dump her pasta and head next door-and how Dad’s sketches of his new boat were almost finished and it was going to be beeyootiful and it was going to be built in England but Dad said they couldn’t go and see it.’

‘Why not?’ She couldn’t help herself asking. She could be polite. She just couldn’t be involved.

She was not a safe haven.

But it seemed she was, like it or not. ‘This is where we live now,’ Bailey said happily. He hesitated. ‘Gran Rose and Papa Bill still live in England but Dad says they might come out and see us soon.’

‘Isabelle’s parents,’ Nick explained.

‘Dad’s Mom and Papa don’t like us very much,’ Bailey confided. ‘When I was in hospital they told Dad, “Reap as you sow”. I don’t exactly know what it means but Dad got angry and Gran Rose started to cry and then they went away. And they think Australia’s dangerous.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Misty said and abandoned the rest of her coffee and bundled Bailey to school. Feeling ill for Nick.

Ill or not, she could not afford sympathy. It was important not to get caught up in his shadows.

Yeah, and pigs might fly but she didn’t have to hang round the kitchen one minute longer than she must.

She didn’t need to hang round Nicholas Holt.

She was not safe.

She arrived home the next night and Nick was in the laundry, inside her washing machine. Bits were spread everywhere. He was wearing greasy overalls and she couldn’t see his head.

‘So how long’s it been taking itself on tours all over the laundry?’ he asked, muffled by washing machine. ‘And ripping the odd shirt.’

‘I had someone look at it last week.’ Indeed she had, and last month as well. ‘Buy a new one,’ the mechanic had said. ‘It’s well past its use-by date.’

Nick inflicted a couple of satisfactory thumps and a final one for good measure before hauling himself out from underneath. ‘I’m thinking she’ll be right now,’ he said. ‘I just need to put her back together.’

There was a long line of grease running down the side of his nose. He had grease in his hair. He looked…he looked…

She didn’t want to think how he looked.

He put the washing machine back together. It purred like a kitten. She and Bailey watched the first load in respectful awe.

Nick tried not to look smug. Misty thought she wouldn’t need to use her list money to pay for a new washing machine. Misty thought there was a man in greasy overalls in her laundry.

She was having trouble not purring herself.

Which just went to show, she thought, as she retreated hastily to her side of the house.

She wasn’t the least bit safe-and Nicholas Holt was starting to look downright dangerous.

‘I don’t want it to be the weekend.’ Bailey announced to the world on Friday morning, and she wasn’t surprised. Bailey had taken to school with joy, and the thought of no school tomorrow seemed more than Bailey could bear.

‘You’ll have the dogs to play with, and it’ll do you good to sleep in,’ Nick told his son, delivering him to Misty’s kitchen for the ride to school. ‘It’ll do us all good. Miss Lawrence works too hard.’

Um…she didn’t need to, Miss Lawrence admitted to herself. There wasn’t a huge amount of correction to be done for Grade One, and she’d created so many lesson plans over the last few evenings she could rest on her laurels for a month.

But she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. If only he wouldn’t wear those jeans in her kitchen. If only he wouldn’t lean against her bench. If only he’d stop fixing things. If only he’d stop smiling. If only he wasn’t so long, so rangy. So… Nicholas No. ‘I work no harder than I must,’ she said primly and bustled Bailey out to the car with speed, but she was aware of him watching her as she drove away.

He was amused?

He knew she was attracted to him, she thought. But did he know just how afraid she was? Of being kissed.

No. She wasn’t the least afraid of being kissed.

She was afraid of being safe.

She was afraid, he thought, and he wasn’t sure why. Had she been burned in the past? Roger Proudy and his sloppy kisses?

Why was it important to figure it out?

It wasn’t important. It couldn’t be important. He’d known Misty Lawrence for less than a week. He’d made an absolute commitment to his son, to do what he must to give him the stability he needed. That did not include getting involved with any woman.

Only this wasn’t any woman. This was Misty and she made him feel…different.

Yeah, she was warm, funny, loving. She didn’t threaten his plans for the future in any way-rather she augmented them.