Page 22 of The Single Dad Dilemma

“Yes, I’m prepared to take them.”

“The fish?”

“Yes, to live at my house. I don’t think Lyric would mind.”

“Lyric?” he asks, tilting his head.

“That’s my roommate’s name,” I say. “I guess the only times I’ve mentioned her, I’ve referred to her as my roommate and never by her actual name.” I laugh a little, doing nothing to hide my nervousness.

“It’s okay,” he says.

“Are you sure? Because?—”

“Darcy,” he says, turning toward me. “It’s okay. I told Lou that we could maybe get some fish for her birthday, which is at the end of the summer. So it’s okay. Trust me, I know she can be persuasive.”

There’s a strange little flip-flop low in my belly as his eyes trace over my face. And then I think back to our interview when he told me about the woman who fell for the dad. He didn’t seem all too keen on the idea. Of course, the part where he was married might have been the bigger issue. But still, it’s pretty clear he’s not looking for a romantic attachment, let alone one with his daughter’s nanny. He’s never been anything but professional.

“I can’t believe you were willing to take the fish if I said no,” he says.

“I would have tried to be the best fish mom,” I say with a laugh.

Ridge laughs, too. And it’s deep and sweet. Lou makes her entrance then, walking past us and around her bed to the tank.

“See, I told you I could have them,” she says, her confidence suddenly restored.

“Well, more or less,” her dad says. “And don’t expect me to take care of them. You’re gonna have to do your part.”

“I will not let Tater Tot or Prince Charming down,” Lou says.

Ridge looks at me with sheer confusion written all over his face.

“Those are the names of the fish,” I say, suppressing a giggle.

“Right,” he says. “How silly of me. Of course. Brilliant names.” His attention shifts from me back to her.

I move to exit her room, and Ridge follows after me. Lou elects to remain behind.

“I’ll be right back,” he says. “Just going to change into something else before I pack Lou’s bag.”

I nod, heading to the living room to sit on the couch as he walks back toward his bedroom.

No more than two minutes later, he’s back out in the living room, his thumb pitched over his shoulder. “Did you fold my clothes?”

“Oh, yeah, I was putting some stuff into the laundry room and saw them. I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“Darcy,” he says, crossing the room and coming to sit next to me on the couch. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe I got used to it. Like, it’s just my default,” I say, spitting the words out before I can filter them at all. That feels like a massive overshare, and I’m praying he doesn’t press for more information.

He flinches a little, and there’s a hint of surprise on his face. And not the good kind. It’s definitely the kind that makes me think he wants to ask but is restraining himself.

Whatever the expression was, he wipes it away just as quickly as it appeared. I won’t deny that something inside me wants to tell him all about Tyler. My ex was a real piece of work, and I found myself constantly apologizing, even when I did nothing wrong. Which was most of the time.

“So, any weekend plans?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject. But I gladly welcome it.

“Um, Lyric wants to get me out of the house. Actually, I think she wants to get me back into the dating scene, but she’s disguising it as a night out.” I laugh.

“Is there a reason she wants you to get back out there?” He squints almost imperceptibly.

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