Page 55 of Hello Single Dad

“Ready for your surprise?” he asked, as though completely unfazed by the contact.

“As long as it involves waffles,” I teased.

“But of course.”

I got into his car, and once we had closed the doors behind us, he lifted a hand and waved toward the house.

I distinctly saw a curtain whoosh shut.

“A friend of yours?” he asked, clearly amused.

“She was.” I laughed awkwardly. “Actually, she’s kind of my hero—letting me stay with her until I find a place and preparing me for not-dates.” I gave him a look. “I had no idea what to wear.”

“I’m sure she knows you look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”

Good thing I was sitting down, because his grin paired with those words made my knees weak. The back of my neck was hot already, so I reached up and brushed some curls away from my neck and looked out the window.

“So I know we’re trying to stay out of Emerson,” he said. “Have you ever heard of this place called Seaton Bakery?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “I didn’t even know there were restaurants in Seaton. I thought it was just shut down factories and some housing.”

He shook his head. “Spoken like a true rich kid.”

“You’re not wrong.” I’d grown up exactly the way my parents had intended me to—going to Brentwood Academy, becoming skilled in an instrument I no longer played, learning languages I’d never use, and above all else, knowing how to groom myself for the public eye.

“No, there’s a fishing pier there that’s pretty fun on the weekends—they bring out food carts and kids fly kites and old guys cast reels off the dock. And then, of course, Seaton has a few shops and my very favorite place to get breakfast on the weekends.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to love it. And the owners—Chris and Gayle—they’ve become sort of like my business mentors at the bar, even though they’re only ten years older than me.”

“That good?” I asked.

He nodded emphatically. “Everyone who works there stays there forever because they’re so great to work with, and their customer loyalty is through the roof. Of course, that might have something to do with their clean bathrooms.” He winked at me.

My cheeks heated, but I smiled and said, “Possibly.”

Soon, we reached a simple brick building painted white with discounts and specials written on the windows. It was unassuming, blending into the other places around it and the asphalt parking lot so broken up it may as well have been gravel.

“This is it?” I asked. The way he’d praised it, I’d expected...more.

He nodded and turned off the car. “Just wait ‘til you get inside.”

Skeptical, I got out of the car and walked alongside him, thankful at least for the fact that no one from the Academy would be caught dead here. It would be too much damage to their personal “brand” to be seen in a place that didn’t use cloth napkins.

That made me like Cohen just a little bit more. He may have had money, but he also knew how to spot the diamonds in the rough.

A bell hanging on the door clanged as we walked inside. Despite its humble exterior, the inside of the shop exuded warmth. Couples and families and friends sat around mismatched tables and booths, and a display right up front showed off brightly colored cupcakes that made my mouth water.

The woman behind the counter smiled at us and said, “Cohen! This must be the girl.”

My cheeks heated as I smiled at her, walking closer. “Hi, I’m Birdie.” I extended my hand, and she shook it with both of hers.

“I’m Gayle. It’s so nice to meet you.” She had light blond hair and a smile that made her eyes crinkle. I immediately liked her.

The swinging kitchen doors opened, and a tall, thin man with a round belly and a head of gray hair walked through, rubbing his hands on his apron. “Is this her?”

I glanced at Cohen, and I swore I saw a blush on his cheeks. “Chris,” he said, “this is Birdie.”

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