Play Dates. Maggie Wells

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СКАЧАТЬ master within weeks of holding their offspring. They’d seen each other through a lot over the last five years—good, bad, and downright tragic—but their friendship never changed. Their bond was as strong as it had been since junior high. Stronger.

      James made their pack a trio when he came on to handle sales. Unfortunately, he also got mixed up in handling Mike’s younger sister, Megan—the mother of the two redheaded hellions wreaking havoc on the playground, and the flakiest girl on earth. Through a wacky blend of desperation, crowd-sourcing, and plain old trial and error, the three of them had managed to keep their business, themselves, and all five of their offspring alive. A feat. A minor miracle.

      “We’re partners.”

      She flinched. The movement was slight, but the little jerk of her shoulders cut straight through his usual haze of male oblivion.

      “Not partner-partners,” he hastened to add. “Business partners. The three of us.” He turned his head to nod toward James. “We’re business partners.”

      This time, she didn’t bother trying to hide her shock. “And you’re all Saturdaddies?”

      The label shook a sharp laugh right out of him. “Saturdaddies?”

      “You know. Divorced...or widowed,” she said with an incline of her head. “Guys who take their kids to the park on Saturdays.”

      “Or working fathers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his most challenging look at her. “Like those women over there.” He gestured to the mommies gathered at the picnic tables. “Do you ever see them here Monday through Friday?” When she didn’t answer, he forged ahead. “No. They’re making up for nanny time.”

      “Is that what you’re doing?”

      “Of course.” He shot her a scornful look. “Tell me you don’t have a thousand other things you ought to be doing.” The assertion seemed to give her pause. “But no one wants to be all ‘brush your teeth’ and ‘eat your green beans,’ do they? And so, we’re here.” He spotted the furrow of concern between her brows and sighed, letting some of his defensiveness go with the converted carbon dioxide. “Sorry, I just...” He shrugged and looked away, searching the playground for his son and the words he needed to explain. “Everyone thinks it’s all single moms out there, you know?”

      “So, you’re all single dads? I mean, you’re all raising them on your own?”

      The undisguised surprise in her voice spoke volumes. Turning to meet those brilliant blue eyes head-on, he nodded. “All full-time dads.” He pursed his lips, waiting patiently as she processed the information. “There are more of us than people think.”

      “I suppose there probably are,” she murmured.

      Without saying another word, she turned and started searching out her daughter. Convinced he’d been doing better with the awkward conversation than the soapbox, Colm resuscitated his opening gambit. “You never answered me. Why do you like doing the commodities thing?”

      “Risk-reward,” she answered, scanning area after area of the structure, not even glancing in his direction. “I’m a gambler. I like the payoff when I take big chances.”

      “They’ve moved on to the swings.”

      Monica pivoted, her restless gaze seeking out the chain-linked seats. Her shoulders dropped when she finally caught sight of Aiden and Emma swaying side-by-side. He knew how she felt. He experienced the same profound relief each time he thought too hard about how close he’d come to never knowing his son. He was grateful for the doctors who jumped in to save a helpless infant and the friends who stood by his side while he groped his way through those mind-boggling months of fresh grief, terrifying responsibility, and heart-stopping betrayals.

      He’d been holed up for too long. Both Mike and James had been after him to start dating, but who had the energy for all that crap? But the woman beside him? This stranger with her impossibly direct gaze and self-admitted gambling problem? She tempted him into thinking he might want to try again. At least a dinner. After all, everyone had to eat, right?

      “Listen, my folks have been keeping Aiden for a while on Saturday nights,” he began without taking a minute to think too hard about what he was doing. “It’s new and hasn’t always worked out.” Okay, so he’d only had to pick his boy up once, but he didn’t have to give her an accounting. She also didn’t need to know the lack of success was because he pined for his son more than his kid did for him. “But if you can get free tonight, maybe get a sitter—”

      “Oh!” Her eyes widened as she caught on to where he was heading. “Oh, Emma isn’t—”

      “Yo, Colm!” James approached, a twin tucked under each arm. He was herding the boys with nudges of his bony knees and looking more like a nutty professor than a smooth salesman at the moment. “Dude, pancake time. Gather the sprout and let’s hit it. One of them’s gonna gnaw my arm off.”

      Colm noted his friend spared only the barest of nods for Monica. Typical. If ever there was a man unnaturally attracted to the crazy, that man was Jimbo. And Monica Rayburn, with her sharp blue eyes and smudge-free but delightfully form-fitting blue jeans, was sanity incarnate.

      “Pancake time?” she asked, blinking at the man approaching them.

      “We go to the park and eat pancakes for lunch.” He twisted his lips into a self-deprecating smile. “This is what us Saturdaddies do, you know…screw with routine.” Turning to James, he nodded toward the swings. “If you can pry him loose, we’ll go.”

      Monica laughed as James lumbered away. “Good for you. Routines are for sissies.”

      “So let’s break ours. Have dinner with me tonight,” he insisted. “Do you think you can find someone to watch Emma?”

      “Oh, not a problem. My sister—”

      “Monnie! Monnie!”

      She yelped and staggered when the little girl rammed into her legs full-force. “Ah! Emma!” Catching her balance, Monica gently disentangled herself from her little girl’s grasp. “I swear, we’re going to get you a job busting kneecaps for the mob when you grow up.”

      “Aiden’s gonna eat pancakes! Can we eat pancakes?”

      Colm saw a spark light Monica’s eyes, but she shook her head. “No, sweets. We have a reservation at Girlie Girls for curls and crumpets, remember?” She pulled her phone from her pocket and dragged her thumb across the screen to wake it. “Almost time for us to go, anyway.”

      The photo on the screen gave him hope. A picture of him filled the background. She’d zoomed in and caught him in a close-up as he leaned against the tree. And the best part was, she must have snapped the picture long before Princess Clarissa waved her matchmaking wand and brought them together. She was every bit as interested in him as he was in her. “Nice shot.”

      A peachy-pink blush colored her cheeks. She kept her head down, hiding behind a curtain of glossy hair as she quickly switched to the home screen. “Must have been an accident. I was taking pictures of Emma.”

      “Wow. You’re good. Perfectly in frame. Most of my pictures come out in a blur.” Emboldened by the photographic evidence, he plucked the phone from her hand. “Maybe you should give up the pork rinds and think about СКАЧАТЬ