Page 3 of Single Dad's Christmas Cookie

Ever since that woman walked in the room, that was where my focus was and was going to stay until I got a chance to speak with her, buy her a drink.

“Are you staying around in town for the holidays?” Ned asked. He leaned back and crossed his hands over his belly. Not that there was much belly there. He seemed to have pushed it out to give himself something to rest against. He liked to pretend that he was a man firmly lodged in middle age. He had a family. He had kids. And at the moment, he pretended to have some kind of paunch that really wasn’t there. He was barely older than I was.

He seemed to enjoy acting as if he were much older, especially when it came to giving me business advice. As if I hadn’t been running my own company since my father handed his business over to me on my twenty-first birthday.

“No plans this year,” I admitted. “My mother’s decided to stay in town, which means command performances for myself and the kid. You?”

“Wife wanted to go skiing. But then Kayla, she’s the youngest, fell at the ice rink and broke her ankle last week. Had to have surgery, twenty-two pins and two screws. We aren’t going anywhere for a while.”

“Oh, that’s tough,” I said.

“Yeah, we’re staying around. Have to make sure the kid is cared for. Between her pain medication and her incessant need for snacks, I’m constantly running errands. The wife wants me to come up with things we can do around here. Have you ever been to any of the local Christmas festivals or gone to see Santa Claus at the mall?”

I shook my head. “I let my mom handle Christmas. We do what she decides we should do.”

At that point, Ned’s phone buzzed. He picked it up and looked at the screen before chuckling to himself.

“She wants ice cream now. Apparently, we don’t have any.”

“I guess that means you’re stopping to get some ice cream on your way home,” I said.

“Hate to cut it short, but we got to take care of the kids, right?”

He needed to leave already. I should send that kid a box of cookies with her well-timed demand for ice cream.

I waved him off as he reached for the bill. “Head on out. I’ll take care of it. I’m going to finish up this drink.” I pointed to the last half-inch of beer in my glass.

I pretended to sip it as I watched him leave, only to have my gaze diverted back to the beauty perched at the bar. Our gazes locked, and I swear a flush tinged her cheeks. That could have also been the neon signs hanging over the bar.

She quickly looked away but then shot me another quick glance. I saw that smile on her face.

It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but she knew I had seen her. I grabbed the tab and stalked my way to the bar. I had my prey in sight, and I prayed that she would not get away.

I slid the dinner bill with my credit card across the bar to the bartender.

As he reached out to take it, I said, “The lady’s drink is on me.”

She turned to blink luminous blue eyes at me. “Thank you.”

“I would have offered to buy you a drink, but you already have one, and I don’t want to make assumptions that you’ll be having another one.”

She looked thoughtfully at the glass in her hand, wiggling it ever so slightly. Ice rattled around as she mixed the contents of her drink.

“It’s pretty, and it’s sweet. I also know it packs a serious punch. I appreciate your concern over my drinking habits.”

“That sounds like you will not be having a second one,” I said.

“If I were drinking alone, I would stop with this one, but…”

“I’m here.” I leaned against the bar.

“So, if you were to order something too, I wouldn’t be drinking alone,” she said.

“I like the way you think,” I said.

As the bartender returned with the credit card receipt for me to sign, I handed the credit card back. “Give us a second round of whatever the lady is drinking.”

“You want one too?”

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