Falling For The Single Dad. Jessica Hart

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      ‘Stay for the evening. We were going to have a barbeque and a real swim, and the children could lie down in front of a film with Nick’s mother while we sit outside in the hot tub and chill. What do you say?’

      Emily hesitated for a moment, then thought of all the good reasons why not. Starting with the fact that Kizzy was out of milk.

      ‘That isn’t really fair on Liz, dumping three extras on her, and anyway, we can’t—we didn’t bring enough bottles for the baby,’ she said truthfully.

      ‘Well—Harry, why don’t you go and pick some up from home and come back? We’ll look after Kizzy for you, won’t we, Em?’

      She met his eyes in desperation, hoping he’d catch on, and he did, bless him, but not in the way she’d thought. Instead he grinned and said, ‘Sounds like a plan. Except I’ve had a beer, so I can’t drive. Still, you could go, Em. I’m sure there are things you want to do at home—you said something about putting the washing on before you came out, and I don’t think you remembered.’

      ‘No—no, I didn’t,’ she said, grabbing the lifeline. ‘Um—so, I’ll go, then, and stick a load in and get everything. Back soon. Kids, be good for Harry, won’t you?’

      And with a quick kiss for them both, she shot out of the door before Georgie could scupper her by offering to keep her company. The last thing she needed while she plugged herself into Buttercup was an audience!

      But she escaped without intervention, and half an hour later she was on her way back, the bottles full and the washing on—just to make it less of a lie, because she hated that. She ought to just tell Georgie and have done with it, but she was afraid her friend would find it somehow repellent.

      Still, she’d done her bit for the subterfuge now, and she arrived back armed with the milk and more nappies and clothes for Freddie and Kizzy, to find them all in the swimming pool, with much shrieking and giggling going on, and Nick and Harry with Dickon and Harry junior on their shoulders, battering each other with brightly coloured foam poles.

      Dickon fell off with a great shriek, and the two Harrys punched the air and whooped.

      ‘We-e wo-on,’ Harry junior chanted, brandishing his hideous green pole overhead and grinning for England.

      ‘Me, me!’ Freddie yelled, reaching out to Harry, his little fists opening and closing in appeal, and so Harry took him on his shoulders, Nick took Beth and, as she’d known she would, Beth let her little brother win, falling into the water with a mock cry. Nick scooped her up instantly, hugging her and whispering something to her that made her giggle deliciously, and then she caught sight of Emily and waved.

      ‘Hello, Mummy! Come in the water, it’s lovely!’

      Why was it, she thought, that the sea was somehow so much less personal, so much easier to be almost naked in? Because here, in the close confines of the Barrons’ pool, she felt suddenly hideously conscious of the scantiness of the perfectly normal one-piece swimsuit that only an hour ago had seemed quite adequate.

      Not now, though. Now, it could have been made of gauze, and she could feel Harry’s eyes burning holes in it

      She slid under the water, mmmed appreciatively and swam away from him to Freddie, bobbing happily in his waterwings and splashing Georgie with his pudgy baby hands. He snuggled up to her, giving her a wet, slightly chlorinated kiss, and she was glad to focus her attention on him. It gave her a chance to ignore Harry, although she could hear another loud and boisterous game behind her with him evidently in the thick of it.

      ‘Get the washing sorted?’ Georgie asked, and Emily was so, so glad she’d made the effort.

      ‘Yes, thanks. Baby clothes,’ she flannelled. ‘Kizzy and Freddie. They get through them so fast.’

      ‘So can’t Harry use the washing machine?’ she murmured, and Emily felt the colour creeping into her cheeks.

      ‘Of course he can—but he didn’t know where Freddie’s stuff was. I just popped a few of the baby’s things in to make up the load.’

      Oh, she was going to be struck by lightning in a minute, and Georgie, who’d known her for years, was giving her a very odd look. She didn’t say anything, though, and Nick was getting out of the water and attending to the barbeque, the children were heading for the shower—one mess she was glad she wouldn’t have to clear up!—and Freddie was pulling the sort of face that meant she had just a few seconds to get him to a potty.

      ‘Oops. Got to fly,’ she said, and hoisted Freddie out of the pool, hauled herself up onto the side, grabbed him and ran.