Irresistible: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Cloverleigh Farms Series Book 1)
Irresistible: Chapter 12

After talking to Frannie in the hallway, I gathered up the kids and got them into their winter gear as quickly as I could. I avoided eye contact with her the entire time. She had no idea the effect her words had on me, how hard it had been to shoot down the idea of being more than her friend, how badly I wanted to take her in my arms and say yes, please give me a chance. Give me a thousand of them, because that’s how many I’ll need. She had no idea about any of it.

And that’s how it had to stay.

My first priority in life was my children, and my second was my job, so that I could provide a good life for them. That left no room for anything else. She couldn’t possibly understand how thin I was already stretched, trying to be two parents. She’d end up hating me.

So when the door closed behind us, I breathed a sigh of relief and hustled the kids downstairs to where DeSantis was waiting. After retrieving Winnie’s booster seat from my office, we trudged out to the parking lot and piled into his SUV. Felicity and Winifred started babbling immediately about their day and kept it up the entire ride to the house, but I noticed Millie stayed silent, preoccupied with her phone. It set off an alarm bell in my head. I’d have to check in with her later.

The roads were finally decent, so it was only about fifteen minutes later that DeSantis pulled up at the house. The girls went inside while he and I managed to get my car out of the garage and into a spot where he could get close enough to hook up the cables. It wasn’t easy, and our hands were about frozen by the time we were done, but it worked. I thanked him profusely and promised him a beer after work as soon as I could manage it.

Later that night, after the dinner dishes were done and showers were taken and the day’s deposits were made in the swear jar, I spent some time with each of the girls in their rooms.

“So did you have a good time at Cloverleigh?” I asked Winifred, setting aside the book I’d just read aloud to her.

“Yes. The sleigh ride was so much fun.”

I got off her bed and switched off her light. “Was that your favorite part?”

“Yes. Can I have a horse?”

“No.”

She sighed. “I didn’t think so. Can we take another sleigh ride tomorrow?”

I laughed, leaning down to kiss her. Her damp hair smelled like baby shampoo and made me want to stop time. “Maybe not tomorrow, but sometime. Goodnight.”

“Wait, Daddy! Did you look under the bed?”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” Kneeling on the floor, I performed the requisite monster check. “All clear. Just some dust bunnies.”

She smiled. “Those are okay. Kiss Ned the Hammerhead from Shedd.”

I dutifully planted a kiss on her stuffed shark, which she’d gotten from Shedd Aquarium in Chicago last summer and never let out of her sight if she could help it. “That thing does not look cuddly.”

“I know, but I love him. I don’t feel right if he’s not next to me.”

“Then I guess he can stay. Love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

Goodnight.” Leaving her door open the way she liked it, I went into Felicity’s room. Her nightlight glowed in the dark, and she was under the covers. “Tired?” I asked, sitting on the bed.

She yawned. “Yes.”

“Did you have a fun snow day?”

“Yes. I love Frannie. She’s so nice.”

“She is.” I thought of her hurt expression from earlier and my chest felt tight. What would happen if she decided she didn’t want to nanny for me anymore? Then the girls would lose her, and it would be my fault completely. God, I’d really fucked this up.

“She’s my favorite babysitter ever. She said she used to have nightmares too when she was my age.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And then someone told her how certain rocks can help you relax and sleep better. She even gave me one, see?” She brought her hand out from under the covers and opened her fist. On her palm lay a small, smooth stone.

I switched on the lamp on her nightstand and looked closer. It was a crystal of some sort, with streaks of purple and green and lavender running through it. The perfect gift for Felicity. “That was nice of her.”

She closed her fist and tucked her arm beneath the blankets again. “Can she sleep over again sometime?”

“Uh … we’ll see.” I switched off the lamp, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Night, Mavis.”

She giggled. “Night, Daddy.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Millie’s bedroom door was closed, and I knocked gently.

“Come in,” she said.

When I opened the door, I saw her reading in bed by the light of the lamp on her nightstand. I went in and sat by her feet. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She didn’t lift her eyes from her book.

“Everything okay?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” I took her paperback from her hands and closed it. “That’s not very convincing.”

“Dad, you lost my place,” she said, annoyed.

“I’ll replace it again. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” She played with some loose threads on her quilt.

“I don’t believe you.”

She shrugged. “I have a stomachache.”

Concerned, I set her book on her nightstand. “Your stomach hasn’t bothered you for months. Did something happen?”

“No.”

I didn’t believe her. Clearly there was an issue, but she wasn’t going to tell me what it was. For a moment I panicked that it was something related to puberty, and I got lightheaded and sweaty. What the hell was I going to do when all those changes set in? God, why couldn’t they stay young forever?

“Millie, do you …” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “Want the heating pad? Some Advil?”

“No. I’m fine, Dad.” She rolled away from me onto her side. “’Night.”

“’Night.” I leaned over, kissed her head, and switched off her lamp. Her hair smelled sweet, too, but not like baby shampoo. More fruity. Like women’s shampoo. Then I stood there a moment looking at her, wondering where the years had gone. It seemed like only yesterday that—

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you. Thinking that you’re growing up too fast.”

“Quit it. It’s weird.”

I laughed. “Sorry. I’m going now. You’re sure you don’t want the heating pad?”

“I’m sure. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I reached her doorway and turned around. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I felt a little better as I went downstairs, but not much. Millie’s stomachaches, like Felicity’s nightmares and Winifred’s monsters, had begun after their mother left and usually flared any time Carla said she was coming to visit, even though she rarely followed through.

In the kitchen, I went over to where Millie’s phone was plugged in, picked it up, and entered her passcode. She and I had an agreement—I allowed her to have a phone, and she allowed me access to it at any time to make sure she wasn’t on social media or texting with serial killers. Every now and then, I glanced at her messages, but mostly there were just long threads full of emojis between her and a few friends, and occasionally texts from her mother.

When I saw that Carla had been in touch today, Millie’s stomachache made sense.

Hello darling, I just wanted to tell you how excited I am to come see you! Remember not to say anything to your sisters so the visit can be a surprise! I’m only telling you because you sent me the note saying how much you miss me. It was so sweet of you to write me, but hearing that you are sad because of me made me feel sad too. I had a migraine for days afterward. I really wish I could be there for the mother daughter fashion show you mentioned, but that date isn’t good for me. But I will see you Friday and we’ll have such a good time!

I set the phone down, my blood boiling. I’d specifically asked Carla not to tell the kids about her visit, and she’d gone behind my back immediately and messaged Millie. And how fucking dare she make Millie feel guilty for telling her mother she misses her! Seething, I paced the kitchen. I wanted to punch something. Throw something. Destroy something. Opening the back door, I took a few gulps of icy air to calm myself down, but it barely had an effect. Then I came in the house and downed a shot of whiskey.

Ten seconds later I was going up the stairs three at a time, then opening Millie’s door. “Millie? You still awake, honey?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked, fighting for composure.

“Okay.”

I walked over to her bed and sat down at her feet. “I saw the message from Mom on your phone. Is that what’s bothering you?”

Silence. “She said she’s coming to visit.”

“I know.”

“Is she really coming this time?”

“That, I don’t know.”

Millie rolled over and looked up at me. “Sometimes I really miss her and wish she was here. And sometimes I wish she would just stay away.”

My throat got tight. “It’s okay to wish that, honey. Everything you feel is okay.”

“There’s a mother-daughter fashion show at school,” she went on sadly.

“I saw that. What’s it for?”

“It’s some kind of fundraiser. You get to make your own outfits. All my friends are doing it.”

“Well, that’s stupid and unfair,” I snapped. “Not everybody has a mother around.”

“All my friends do. Even if their parents are divorced, their mothers are still around.”

I exhaled, guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mills.”

Millie was silent a moment. “Does she even love us anymore?”

“Of course she does.” I leaned over her, bracing a hand above her shoulder and brushing her hair back from her face. “And so do I.”

“I know you do.”

It should have made me happy, but I still felt like somehow, it wasn’t enough. I tried again. “Sometimes moms and dads decide they don’t want to be married anymore, but they always love their children.”

“But if you love someone, you want to be with them, don’t you?”

“Well … yes. Usually. But love is complicated.”

“It shouldn’t be,” she said with ferocity. “If you love someone, nothing else should matter. You should do everything you can to be with them as much as possible.”

“I agree.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Mom says you didn’t love her enough and that’s why she had to leave.”

My composure slipped. “That’s fucking ridiculous.” Then I sighed. “Sorry. I’ll put a dollar in the jar when I go downstairs.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. I was mad when she said that too. It made me feel bad.”

“You have nothing to feel bad about.” Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Listen. Maybe I wasn’t good at loving her. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. I don’t know. In all honesty, honey, I just felt confused most of the time. But what matters to me now is that you and your sisters know how much I love you and want to be the most awesome dad possible, even if your college funds are being depleted by the swear jar.”

That brought a little smile.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“What if I did the fashion show with you?”

“You?”

I sat up tall and puffed out my chest. “Yes, me. I’m a good-looking dude, don’t you think?”

She giggled. “I guess.”

Getting off the bed, I did my best John Travolta Saturday Night Fever strut across her room. “And I’ve got moves, Millsy.”

“Oh my God, Dad. Please do not walk like that in front of my friends. Ever.”

“Hey, listen. It is a dad’s solemn duty to embarrass his children in their adolescent years as often as possible. So no promises.”

“Are you really going to do the show with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes. But I need to ask and make sure it’s okay to have a dad in the mother-daughter fashion show.”

“If it isn’t, we’re suing them for discrimination,” I said, pointing a finger at her.

She smiled, and I almost felt like things were okay in the world again. Maybe I wasn’t Superdad, but I was doing this.

“’Night, honey.” I blew her a kiss and headed for the door.

Downstairs, I folded some laundry, stacked everyone’s piles in baskets, and opened up my laptop on the dining room table. I emailed Sawyer and DeSantis that I wouldn’t be in tomorrow because of childcare issues, asked if meetings could please be rescheduled, and apologized for the late notice. Then I tried to tackle some of the work tasks that I’d been unable to finish during the day, but I still found it hard to concentrate.

At midnight, I finally gave up and went to bed, but even though I was tired, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was mad at Carla, worried she wouldn’t show, worried she would show, concerned about Millie, fearful I wasn’t handling her questions right, anxious about the future, and desperate to make things right with Frannie again. But how?

I couldn’t go backward and undo what we’d done. I couldn’t unhear the words she’d spoken. I couldn’t unfeel this longing for her. But I couldn’t act on it, either. My girls aside, Frannie deserved someone who could put her first, someone at the same stage of life she was in, who had all the time and energy in the world to dedicate to making her happy.

I was awake half the night wishing that someone could be me.