Page 10 of Nolan

"And I'm the Queen of England." She hands back my card with a knowing smile. "Just be careful, King. Office romances are complicated enough. I imagine household ones are even trickier."

I grab my cinnamon roll, eager to escape Gabby's too-perceptive gaze. A smart-ass grin spreads across my face. "Thanks for the advice I didn't ask for."

"It's a free service I provide." She laughs as I head toward the door. "Tell Annabelle I said hi."

I flip her the bird as I leave. The bell chimes behind me as I step outside, exhaling slowly. Is it that obvious? Can everyone see what I'm feeling written all over my face? The thought is unsettling. I've always prided myself on keeping my private life private, especially after the divorce. This town thrives on gossip, and the last thing I need is for Ashlynn to hear playground whispers about her dad and her nanny.

I take a bite of the cinnamon roll as I walk to my truck, the sweetness coating my tongue. Annabelle had brought one of these to me at the office last week, claiming she was "in the neighborhood." The memory of her shy smile as she placed it on my desk makes my heart rate pick up. I'm in trouble if even Gabby can see through me this easily.

The hardware store is blissfully quiet compared to the bakery. I grab a cart and head down the aisle, mentally checking off the supplies I need for the weekend project I'm going to start working on for Ashlynn, a swing set in the backyard. It's probably beyond my actual carpentry skills, but I'll be damned if I don't try. The look on her face when I suggested it was worth whatever frustration awaits me.

I'm debating between two different types of weather sealant when a familiar voice calls out.

"Starting a new project, Nolan?"

I turn to find Colt Matthews approaching, a price scanner in his hand.

"Hey, man," I greet him, extending a hand which he shakes firmly. "Yeah, promised Ashlynn a swing set. Might be in over my head."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he jokes, referencing the disastrous birdhouse attempt that became a running gag among the dads. "How's she doing?"

"Growing like a weed. Three going on thirty, ya know." I smile, always happy to talk about my daughter. "How's Jake?"

A shadow crosses Colt's face briefly before he answers. "Good. He's good. Eleven going on fifty."

"That's great." I hesitate, sensing there's more. We've never been really close, but as two single dad's, we've spent some time together. "And how are you doing? Haven't seen you around much."

He shrugs, absently scanning a nearby shelf. "Managing. Living above the store right now, actually. The apartment's nothing fancy, but it works while I save up for a house."

"Above the store?" I repeat, surprised. Last I knew, Colt was living in a nice ranch-style home on the edge of town.

"Yeah, after the divorce finalized..." He trails off, then straightens his shoulders. "Court gave Sarah primary custody. I get Jake every other weekend and Wednesdays. But if I can get a place with a proper bedroom for him, my lawyer thinks we can push for fifty-fifty."

The weight of his words sinks in. I've been so wrapped up in my own world, the business, Ashlynn, and lately, the mindfuck about Annabelle, that I hadn't realized what Colt was going through.

"That's rough, man. I'm sorry."

"It is what it is." He gestures to my cart. "For the swing set, you're gonna want these lag bolts instead of those. And this sealant works better for our climate."

I appreciate the swift change of subject, following his recommendations as he guides me through the proper materials. We talk shop for a while, the best way to secure the frame, how to ensure proper stability, the importance of testing the ground for level placement. It's comfortable, this language between two dudes who work with their hands for a living.

As he helps me load everything into my truck, I find myself reflecting on my own situation. Lisa and I had our problems, but at least she finally figured out she wasn't the parent for Ash, and gave her to me.

Not everyone gets that. Some of the parents choose to use kids as a bargaining tool.

"Hey," I say, as Colt places the last piece of lumber in my truck bed. "We should get everyone together sometime. Maybe you could bring Jake over when the swing set is up? If it doesn't fall apart first." I attempt a light joke.

He smiles, a genuine one this time that reaches his eyes. "He'd like that. I know he's been feeling alone lately. Even though Ash is younger than him, it might help. He's sorta closing off right now."

"It's a plan, then." I close the tailgate. "And Colt? If you ever need anything, advice on the custody stuff, or just a beer and someone to vent to,I'm around."

"Appreciate it." He nods, then glances back at the store. "Better get back before someone else comes in."

As I drive home, my mind keeps circling back to Colt's situation. I've been taking so much for granted, my home, my time with Ashlynn, even the freedom to pursue whatever this thing with Annabelle might be. The divorce could have gone very differently if Lisa had wanted to fight.

I pull into my driveway, noting the way Annabelle's small blue car is parked neatly by the curb. Through the front window, I can see her and Ashlynn on the living room floor, heads bent together over what looks like a puzzle. They're both laughing, Annabelle's hand covering her mouth in that way she does when she's truly amused.

Whatever complications might come from these feelings I'm developing, in this moment, I'm overwhelmingly grateful for what I have. A beautiful daughter, a home filled with laughter, and maybe, just maybe, a second chance at finding something real with someone who already fits so perfectly into our lives.

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