Beating Heart: A Small Town, Single Dad Romance (Magnolia Falls Series Book 4)
Chapter 17

King

Emerson is great. We needed a doctor in the group. So try not to fuck this up.

River

No pressure there at all.

First of all, she was supposed to be marrying someone else today. Second, she isn’t staying in Magnolia Falls. Third, I don’t do relationships. I’m a father, remember? That’s a full-time job.

Romeo

That’s what I thought when I met Demi.

King

You thought you were a father?

Romeo

No, dickweed. I thought I didn’t do relationships.

Hayes

Well, you’re married, Golden Boy, so you were clearly wrong about that. But I get it. I don’t do relationships either. Too messy. And I’m not even a single dad.

River

You’re just a grumpy dickhead.

Hayes

Truth. And I like it that way.

King

Well, I was the ultimate playboy, and I fell hard and fast for my girl. So, never say never.

Hayes

How about you stop talking about my sister on the group thread.

King

Speaking of your sister, I need everyone’s help. I want to propose, but it needs to be grand. Big. Memorable.

River

Proposal by sticky note?

Romeo

Those sticky notes did work out for you, but he wants something big. King, how about you take her out on the boat?

King

Too basic.

Take her horseback riding somewhere overlooking the water.

King

Sorry. I just fell asleep. Way too boring.

Hayes

She loves that shit you do with your whole dandelion shtick. Take her out to that field full of allergens out by Demi’s parents’ ranch and propose to her there. You two can make all sorts of sappy wishes on those weeds.

King

Hayes? Did someone kidnap you and steal your phone? This is what I’m talking about. I’ll take her to the dandelion field, send her on a scavenger hunt, and then have one of those planes fly overhead and write the words: “Will you marry me, Dandelion?” in the sky. Followed by champagne out in the field. Maybe a little sexy time so that I make it memorable.

Hayes

I’m going to beat the shit out of you when I see you next.

Romeo

<laughing face emoji>

River

Dude has a death wish. Everything else sounds good. Slightly over the top, but it’s very… you.

Agreed. I’ve got to go.

Romeo

Yes, your neighbor who you aren’t dating, but seem to be spending an awful lot of time with, is coming over for dinner, right?

King

After spending the whole day together.

River

Sounds kind of like a relationship. And this may be her wedding day, but the wedding was called off a few months ago. She seems like she’s over it. Make your move.

Hayes

Hey, maybe she just wants something casual. That plays into your hands.

King

She’s dated one dude in her life, and she was supposed to marry him. She doesn’t strike me as a casual girl.

Hayes

Go plant some dandelions, dickmunch.

River

Don’t overthink it. See where it goes. If all else fails, tell her you like her on a sticky note. Because we can all tell that you like her.

<Middle finger emoji>

I set my phone down and looked over at Cutler, who was doing a puzzle on the coffee table. He found this new love for puzzles a few months ago. When the kid wasn’t running around outside, this was what he wanted to do.

I loved the concentration and how intently he focused. It’s how I felt when I was building and creating something with my hands. I loved taking an old, rundown shack and turning it into a home.

Maybe my boy inherited some of that creativity from me. I had pasta boiling on the stovetop and the meatballs in the oven. This was Cutler’s favorite meal and one of the few things I made well, aside from barbecue.

At least I thought I did, but this was all according to a six-year-old, so for all I knew, my cooking was shit.

My phone vibrated, and I was surprised to see another text from Tara. This was way more communication than we’d had since the day she’d left.

Tara

Hey, I’m still planning to come in a few weeks. I’m looking into an Airbnb, unless you’d be cool with me staying with you?

What the actual fuck?

That’s not an option.

Tara

I wish you had a little more faith in me. I think Cutler would enjoy spending time with me.

I ignored the comment because she wasn’t in a position to ask me to trust her. She didn’t know shit about parenting or kids or Cutler, for that matter. She didn’t know that he loved puzzles and that he loved to swim and play baseball. She didn’t know about his asthma or the scares we’d had over the last few months. She didn’t know that he ate his cereal dry unless I allowed him to have chocolate milk on his Cheerios, which apparently, he got at his uncles’ homes whenever he stayed over there. She didn’t know that he loved to ride horses and that he had a heart that was so big it concerned me because I wondered how I was going to protect this kid from getting it broken in the future. She didn’t know that he was a massive flirt and a jokester and that he’d been collecting baseball cards for the last two years. She didn’t know that every parent-teacher conference I’d ever attended, I’d been told that my son always looked out for the kids who weren’t included.

My boy was a fucking rock star.

I knew it. My father knew it. My friends knew it. All the people in Cutler’s life knew it.

But she wasn’t one of them, so it pissed me off that she would have the audacity to tell me how things would go down.

Maybe River was right, and it was time to force her hand legally so we wouldn’t have to jump through hoops on the rarity that she came to town.

There was a knock on the back door, and Cutler went running in that direction. The only thing that could distract him from his puzzle right now was Emerson and Winnie.

I wiped my hands on the towel and made my way toward the door. My stomach was twisting a little bit, which surprised me. Women didn’t make me nervous. But I sure as hell didn’t date a whole lot anymore, and I hadn’t had a woman over to my house for dinner since the day Cutler was born.

So maybe I was fucking nervous.

I definitely liked her. But I also knew the score. I was a single dad, and my priority would always be my kid. I didn’t have room in my life for relationships. She was supposed to be marrying someone else today, so she wasn’t looking for anything either. She’d be leaving town in a few months, so there was no point getting attached.

Yet here we were.

My kid loved her. She was his pediatrician. She lived next door.

She’d known exactly what to do today when I’d freaked out after I’d noticed his change in breathing.

And I couldn’t get that fucking kiss from yesterday out of my head.

It was just a damn kiss.

So what if it was the best kiss I’d ever had?

It. Meant. Nothing.

“What did you make us?” Cutler asked, as I came around the corner and took her in. She wore a little white top with spaghetti straps tied in bows on her golden shoulders. A matching skirt that slung low on her hips, and the slightest bit of tanned, toned abs were showing with her arms raised, holding some sort of plate in her hands. My mouth was dry at just the sight of her. When was the last time I was this awestruck by a woman?

Probably never.

I didn’t know what it was about her, but I was reacting in ways that were foreign to me. I reached for the plate she was holding, and her jade eyes locked with mine. Long brown waves fell around her shoulders, and her lips parted when my fingers grazed hers.

“Thank you,” she said, before turning her attention back to Cutler. “I made you my favorite unicorn Rice Krispie treats. They’re my specialty.”

“You’re a doctor and a baker?” Cutler asked.

“Baking is one of my guilty pleasures. When I was in medical school, and then during residency, it was how I’d spend my time off. Just trying out different recipes and turning off my brain for a few hours.”

“Hey, Pops, do I know how to turn off my brain?” Cutler asked. “And how come we never bake?”

They both followed me into the kitchen, and I set the Rice Krispie treats down on the counter before turning off the pasta and pouring the noodles into a strainer, as they both sat down at the kitchen island across from me.

“Well, we don’t bake because I don’t know how to. I can make spaghetti and macaroni and cheese, and I’m good on the barbecue. That’s as far as my kitchen skills go. But if I’d known I could turn off my brain if I baked, I might have tried it sooner.” I chuckled as I turned toward Emerson. “What can I get you to drink?”

I was surprised when she said she’d have a beer, which was what I was drinking. I figured she’d ask for a glass of wine, which is why I’d set a few bottles out on the counter for her.

“Can I take Winnie to my bedroom to show her my baseball card collection?” Cutler asked.

“Sure. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

“Yes!” he shouted as he ran down the hall, with Winnie on his heels. “Wait till you try the ‘sketti and meatballs. My grandpa says my pops has got the best balls in town.”

Emerson spewed beer across the counter and then jumped to her feet with surprise. I barked out a laugh and grabbed some paper towels, making my way over to her and wiping the counter before pausing as I stood in front of her. My gaze locked with hers. “Do my balls make you nervous?”

She pinned her bottom lip between her teeth. “Everything about you makes me nervous.”

That was unexpected. I raised a brow. “I guess the feeling’s mutual then.”

“Are you saying I make you nervous?” she said, her tone teasing.

“Something like that.” My thumb grazed along her bottom lip, and damn if I didn’t want to kiss her right here, right now.

We stood there flirting with one another for a few minutes before I heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Is dinner ready, Pops?” Cutler yelled. I stepped back, and Emerson cleared her throat before reaching for her beer.

“It’s ready. Let me get this onto the table.” I plated the food, and Emerson came around and grabbed the salad and garlic bread and carried it out to the table for me.

“Why do I always have to have the plain milk with dinner?” my son asked, and I shot him a warning look. I didn’t do the whiny bullshit, and he knew it. He was only asking because we had company, so he was pushing his luck.

“Cutler,” I said, my voice firm, as we all took our seats.

“Pops. You know I like for you to call me Beefcake.”

“Fine. You know the rules, Beefcake. Don’t try to work me over just because we’ve got a pretty lady at the table.”

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” he said.

“She can hear you, you know?” Emerson said with a laugh. “Thank you for saying I’m pretty. Now, tell me what the rule is about the milk.”

“I only get chocolate milk on Friday night. We do pizza and chocolate milk. But the other nights, I have to have plain milk.” Cutler made a face, and he had a big milk mustache on his lip. “But when I go to my uncles’ houses, I always get the chocolate milk.”

“Which uncle breaks the rule?” she asked, as she placed some salad on her plate.

“All of them.” My boy twirled his noodles around his fork and popped it into his mouth.

“Bunch of traitors,” I said, my eyes zeroing in on her mouth when she groaned after taking her first bite of a meatball.

“Don’t you think my pops has the best balls?” Cutler said as he looked at her, too.

She finished chewing, a wide grin on her face, as she nodded. “Yep. He’s definitely got the best balls in town.”

Loud laughter escaped my mouth, and Cutler shook his head and smiled before talking over a mouthful of food. “I’ve never heard you laugh so much before. I think you like Sunny and Winnie just as much as I do.”

“They’re fine,” I said, my voice pure humor.

“Pops didn’t like you when you first moved in, but now I see him looking over at your house all the time when we’re outside.”

When did Cutler start throwing me under the fucking bus?

I raised a brow and looked at him.

“What? You know it’s true, Pops,” he said over his laughter. I leaned forward and wiped the milk mustache from his lip.

“Maybe I’m just making sure the fence can hold Winnie in the yard,” I said.

More laughter.

These two thought the whole thing was hilarious.

“I think you’re right, Beefcake. I think he’s looking for us.” Emerson spun her pasta around her fork, just like my son did. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking over here all the time, too.”

I took a pull from my bottle as my gaze locked with hers.

I liked the idea of her looking over here more than I should.

It had been a long time since I’d wanted a woman like this.

And there was no doubt about it.

I wanted this woman something fierce.