Page 15 of Wrong Number, Right Single Dad
“And here I was thinking I was just here to see the jellyfish and make faces at the sea lions.”
“And the company.” She nudges. “Don’t forget you came for the company.”
The grin on my face softens. “I don’t think I could.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever forget a moment of today. I wouldn’t want to either.
Later, after a lunch of octopus and starfish-shaped macaroni and cheese, the three of us find a quiet spot near the penguin enclosure.
Though she swears she doesn’t need a nap, Hannah is sleepily munching on a bag of goldfish crackers. Every so often, she leans into me, before sitting upright.
She’s humming a sweet melody under her breath.
“What’s that song you’re singing?” I ask.
“It’s one Delaney sang to me before bed.”
“Oh.” I arch an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’ve heard it before. What’s it called?”
“What’s it called?” she asks, gazing up at Delaney, a face full of wonder.
“It’s called, ‘No Rest for the Wicked.’”
I blink at that. “Is that a kids song?”
“It’s one she wrote,” Hannah answers. “Delaney is a singer.”
Both of my eyebrows shoot up now. “You are?”
“Yep,” Hannah replies proudly. “And she plays the guitar and writes songs too.”
“Really?”
Delaney’s cheeks flush. “It’s no big deal. A lot of people write and sing songs.”
“I don’t,” I say.
“Me neither,” Hannah says. “Well, I sing. But I don’t think I’ve written any songs.” Her brow knits together. “Have I?”
The grown-ups share a look and a chuckle. Hannah starts to nod off. Once she’s almost out, I wrap an arm around her and turn back to Delaney.
“So, what do you do when you aren’t writing and singing songs?”
“You mean, besides finding handsome single dads on the Internet.”
My dick twitches at that and I frown. “Behave. We’re in public and we have an audience.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smirks. “I have a customer service job. It’s mostly remote. Nothing exciting. But it pays the bills.”
“While you pursue what you love.” I nod. “That takes guts.”
She smiles. It’s both soft and a little sad. “Thanks. I keep trying. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just setting myself up for disappointment.”
I nod.
“What about you?” she asks. “What was your dream?”
“I always wanted to be a firefighter,” I admit. “Even when I was a kid. I liked the idea of being the one people could call when they needed help.”
