Page 2 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Dragon (Cedar Falls: Fated Mates #2)

I watch them walk away, my daughter's tiny hand wrapped around Luna Hayes' delicate fingers, and something hastens in my chest. A feeling I haven't allowed myself in two years—hope.

"And there's a little garden outside where we can plant flowers, and Daddy built me a swing, and sometimes at night we can see deer..." Ember's excited voice trails off as they head toward the guest house.

Running a hand through my hair, I exhale slowly, careful not to let any smoke escape my nostrils.

The control comes naturally after decades of practice, but my emotions are running high today.

Finding a nanny for Ember has been my top priority since moving to Cedar Falls a month ago, but I never expected someone like Luna to walk through my door.

Someone so human. So gentle. So obviously unsuitable for a family of dragons.

And yet.

The way she looked at Ember, with genuine warmth instead of the thinly veiled apprehension most humans show around children, gave me pause.

And when Ember mentioned our "special secret" and showed her those damning drawings, Luna didn't flinch or look concerned, she simply thought it was imagination.

Which is exactly what I need people to think.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I check the screen to see a text from Cole, my boss and now friend at Blackwood Construction.

*Need you on site tomorrow. Johnson project hitting delays.*

I text back quickly: *Got it. Hired a nanny today. Starting tomorrow.*

Three dots appear immediately, then: *Female?*

I roll my eyes. *Yes. Professional relationship only.*

*Sure, Sure. Whatever you say.*

Ignoring his last message, I pocket my phone and head upstairs to Ember's room to assess the damage. The scorch marks on her desk are minimal this time.

Nothing a bit of sanding and refinishing won't fix. I'm relieved it wasn't worse. Her fire is getting stronger as she grows, and her control is still developing. A common developmental issue for young dragons, but a nightmare for maintaining our cover in the human world.

I run my finger over the blackened wood, remembering the panic in Jenny's eyes the first time it happened. Our daughter was only four, throwing a tantrum over bedtime when a tiny flame escaped her lips and singed the carpet. Jenny had backed away from her own child, terror written across her face.

"She's just a baby," I'd said, trying to calm my wife while simultaneously soothing our confused daughter. "She doesn't understand yet. I'll teach her control, just like my father taught me."

But Jenny never recovered from the shock of realizing that our daughter had inherited my dragon nature. Six months later, she was gone, leaving a note explaining that she loved us both but couldn't live with the constant fear of what we were.

I understood. I've always understood. Humans aren't equipped to handle the supernatural world that exists alongside theirs.

It's why my kind stays hidden, why we've developed such strict rules about secrecy.

But understanding didn't make it hurt any less when Ember asked for her mother every night for months afterward.

From the window, I can see Luna and Ember exploring the garden outside the guest house.

Luna kneels down, examining something Ember is showing her, probably one of the unusual stones I've collected over the years.

Ordinary rocks to human eyes, but special to dragon-kind for their mineral properties that help regulate our internal fire.

The sunlight catches in Luna's brown hair, bringing out golden highlights I hadn't noticed before. She's beautiful in an understated way, with curves that her modest clothing can't quite hide. I force my eyes away, annoyed at myself. She's here to care for Ember, not to become a distraction for me.

Besides, I learned my lesson with Jenny. Humans and dragons don't mix, not romantically. Not when revealing our true nature risks not only rejection but exposure to the wider world.

By the time they return to the main house, I've made myself busy in the kitchen preparing dinner—a simple stir fry with extra protein. My kind needs significant calories to fuel our higher metabolism.

"Daddy, Luna loves the guest house!" Ember announces as they enter through the back door. "And I showed her where the best hiding spots are for hide and seek, and where the rabbits sometimes come to eat the clover."

"Did you now?" I smile at my daughter's enthusiasm. "I hope you didn't overwhelm Miss Hayes with too much information at once."

"Not at all," Luna says, and I notice her cheeks are flushed from the outdoor air. "The guest house is lovely. Far nicer than I expected."

"It was originally built as an in-law suite," I explain, focusing on the vegetables I'm chopping rather than on how the color in her cheeks enhances her natural beauty. "But it works well as a separate living space. You'll have your privacy."

"While still being close enough if Ember needs anything," she adds.

I nod, appreciating that she grasps the balance I'm trying to strike. "Would you like to stay for dinner? Nothing fancy, but there's plenty."

She hesitates, and I can sense her internal debate about professional boundaries. "I should probably get home and start packing if I'm moving in tomorrow," she says finally. "But thank you for the offer."

"Another time, then." I wipe my hands on a dish towel. "What time should we expect you tomorrow?"

"Would 7:00 be okay? That would give me time to settle in before you need to leave for work."

"Perfect." I resist the urge to extend my hand to seal our agreement, aware that I've already touched her once today and found the contact... unsettling. Her skin had been so soft, her hand so small in mine. "Ember, say goodbye to Miss Hayes."

"Do I have to call you Miss Hayes?" Ember asks, looking up at Luna with pleading eyes. "It sounds like a teacher."

Luna smiles. "You can call me Luna if your dad says it's okay."

They both look at me expectantly. "Luna is fine," I concede, and Ember beams.

"Bye, Luna!" My daughter wraps her arms around Luna's waist in an impulsive hug. I tense, knowing how unnaturally warm Ember's body temperature runs, but Luna doesn't seem to notice anything unusual.

"I'll walk you out," I offer, following her to the front door.

On the porch, Luna turns to face me, and I'm struck again by how short she is. The top of her head barely reaches my chest. Most humans find my height intimidating. I can smell their fear, hear the acceleration of their heartbeats, but Luna seems more curious than afraid.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Damon. I promise I'll take good care of Ember."

"I believe you will." And surprisingly, I mean it. There's something about Luna Hayes that inspires trust, despite my natural caution around humans. "There's just one more thing you should know."

She waits, her hazel eyes attentive.

"Ember's mother..." I pause, choosing my words with care. "Her leaving affected Ember deeply. She might test you, try to see if you'll abandon her too. It's not personal."

Luna's expression softens with understanding. "Children are resilient, but they still carry their wounds. I'll be patient with her."

Something in my chest loosens at her response. "That's all I can ask."

I watch her drive away, her small car disappearing down the winding road that leads back to town. Behind me, I hear Ember at the window, her small hands pressed against the glass.

"I like her, Daddy," she says when I return inside. "She smells nice, like cookies and flowers."

I smile at my daughter's dragon-enhanced senses picking up details no human child would notice. "She seems very nice," I agree, resuming my dinner preparations.

"And she's pretty," Ember continues, climbing onto a stool at the kitchen island. "As pretty as Mommy was."

The knife in my hand pauses momentarily. "Yes, she is pretty."

"Do you think she'll stay? Even when she finds out our secret?"

This is the crux of the problem, the question that's been nagging at me since I made the decision to hire Luna.

"Ember, remember what we talked about? Our secret stays secret. Always."

Her little face falls. "But what if I have an accident? Like today?"

I set down the knife and move to kneel before my daughter, taking her small hands in mine. "Then we'll handle it together. But we must be extra careful around Luna, okay? No dragon talk, no fire play, not even a little."

"But what if she sees? Will she run away like Mommy did?"

The innocent question cuts deep. "Luna isn't your mommy, sweetheart. She's coming to work for us, to take care of you while I'm at work. That's all."

"But she could be someday, right? If she loves us?"

I sigh, wishing I could protect her from more disappointment. "Let's just focus on tomorrow, okay? On making Luna feel welcome."

Ember nods, but I can tell she's not satisfied with my answer. Neither am I, to be honest. Because despite all my rational arguments against it, part of me—the lonely, secret part—wonders the same thing. What if Luna Hayes is different? What if she could accept us for what we are?

It's a dangerous thought, one I can't afford to entertain. And yet, as I prepare our dinner, I find myself wondering what Luna might be doing right now. Packing her things, perhaps. Telling her mother about her new job. Thinking about us.

About me.

I shake my head, annoyed at the direction of my thoughts. I hired a nanny today, nothing more. The fact that she's beautiful, kind, and seems to genuinely care about children, about Ember specifically, is professionally relevant but personally irrelevant. It has to be.

Because I've learned the hard way that humans can love the man but fear the dragon. And I am both, inseparably, eternally.

So, no matter how my body responds to Luna Hayes, no matter how her smile makes something long dormant stir within me, I know the truth: some secrets are too big, too dangerous to share.

Even with someone who smells like cookies and flowers and looks at my daughter like she's already falling in love with her.

Especially with someone like that.