Page 3 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Dragon (Cedar Falls: Fated Mates #2)

The early morning sun filters through the trees as I pull up to the Thorne residence, my small car packed with everything I own, which isn't much, really.

A suitcase of clothes, a box of books, my laptop, and a few cherished mementos from Dad. The rest of my belongings are still at Mom's house, but I don't need much to start this new chapter of my life.

The house looks different in the morning light, more welcoming somehow, with golden sunlight warming the cedar siding. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. This is what I've trained for. I can do this.

As I step out of my car, the front door opens, and Damon emerges onto the porch.

He's wearing work clothes, jeans and a navy t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, with a flannel shirt left open over it despite the warm morning.

His dark hair is still damp from a shower, and even from this distance, those unusual golden eyes seem to lock onto mine with unnerving intensity.

"Good morning," he calls, his deep voice carrying easily across the yard. "Need help with your things?"

"Good morning!" I respond, probably too brightly. "I don't have much, but thank you."

He descends the porch steps and crosses to my car in a few long strides. Up close, he's even more imposing than I remembered. The top of my head barely reaches his chest, and when he reaches past me to open my trunk, I catch a cedarwood scent that's unexpectedly pleasant.

"Just these?" he asks, looking at my meager possessions.

I nod, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I travel light."

A small smile tugs at his lips. "Makes moving easier." He effortlessly lifts both my suitcase and the box of books—which I know from experience is incredibly heavy—as if they weigh nothing at all.

"I can take something," I offer, not wanting to seem lazy on my first day.

"I've got it." He nods toward the house. "Ember's inside finishing breakfast. She's been up since five, too excited to sleep."

The thought of the little girl's enthusiasm warms my heart. "I hope I don't disappoint her," I say honestly.

Damon pauses, looking down at me. "You won't," he says simply, then continues toward the guest house at the back of the property.

I follow him along a stone path that winds through a garden that's clearly new—freshly planted flowers and shrubs that haven't yet filled in. The guest house itself is charming, a small cottage with the same cedar siding as the main house, a covered porch with a swing, and large windows.

"The door code is 0521," Damon says as we approach. "Ember's birthday. You can change it if you want, but she picked it herself."

"May 21st," I smile. "That's coming up soon, isn't it?"

He looks surprised that I made the connection. "Next week. She'll be seven."

"We should plan something special," I say, then catch myself. "I mean, if that's something you'd like my help with."

"Actually, that would be great." He sets my things down to open the door. "I'm not exactly experienced with birthday parties."

The guest house is even lovelier inside than I remembered from yesterday's quick tour.

An open floor plan with a small living area featuring a comfortable-looking couch and armchair, a kitchenette with modern appliances, and a dining nook with a table for two.

Down a short hallway are the bedroom and bathroom, both more spacious than I expected.

"The fridge is stocked with basics," Damon says, setting my suitcase in the bedroom. "You're welcome to eat meals with us at the main house, or here if you prefer. Your time off is your own, of course."

"Thank you," I say, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness. "This is perfect."

He glances at his watch. "I need to leave for work in about thirty minutes. Do you want to come up to the house and go over Ember's routine, or would you like some time to settle in first?"

"Let's go over her routine," I say decisively. "I can unpack later."

He nods, seeming pleased with my answer, and we head back to the main house. As we approach, I hear a squeal of excitement and see Ember's face pressed against the kitchen window. She waves frantically when she spots us.

Inside, the house smells like pancakes and coffee. Ember launches herself at me the moment I step through the door, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"Luna! You came!" she exclaims, as if there had been some doubt.

"Of course I did," I laugh, returning her hug. I notice again how unusually warm she is—almost feverishly so—but she looks perfectly healthy with her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

"I made you a welcome picture," she announces, dragging me by the hand to the kitchen table where a colorful drawing sits. It shows three figures in front of a house. The tall one must be Damon, the small one Ember, and the medium-sized one with brown hair is presumably me.

"It's beautiful, Ember. Thank you." I'm genuinely moved by the gesture, especially since she's already included me in her family picture.

"Look, Daddy, she likes it!" Ember says proudly.

"I see that, princess." Damon's voice is gentle when he speaks to his daughter in a way that contrasts sharply with his intimidating appearance. "Have you finished your breakfast?"

Ember nods, showing her empty plate. "Can I show Luna my room now?"

"Let me talk to Luna about today's schedule first, then you can give her the grand tour."

Damon gestures for me to sit at the kitchen island while he refills his coffee mug. "Coffee?" he offers.

"Yes, please."

As he prepares my cup, he begins outlining Ember's daily routine. "She's homeschooled for now. We moved here mid-year, and I didn't want to disrupt her education further by enrolling her for just the last couple of months. She'll start first grade at Cedar Falls Elementary in the fall."

"Homeschooled?" I repeat, surprised. "That wasn't mentioned in the job listing."

"Is that a problem?" He hands me my coffee, watching my reaction.

"Not at all," I assure him quickly. "I have experience with early childhood education. I just want to make sure I understand what curriculum you're using so I can keep her on track."

He seems to relax slightly. "Her materials are in the study. She's advanced for her age in reading and science but needs extra help with math."

As he continues explaining Ember's schedule: lessons in the morning, lunch, outdoor time in the afternoon weather permitting, then free play and reading, I find myself impressed by how organized he is.

Most single fathers I've encountered through my childcare work haven't been this thorough about their children's routines.

"Any food allergies or restrictions I should know about?" I ask.

"No allergies, but she needs protein with every meal.

Lots of it. She has a... high metabolism.

" Something about the way he says this makes me think there's more to it, but he continues before I can ask.

"She also runs hot. Higher body temperature than most kids.

The doctor says it's normal for her, so don't be alarmed. "

That explains the warmth I noticed during her hugs. "Anything else medically I should be aware of?"

"She's rarely sick, but when she does get a fever, it can spike quickly. There's children's fever reducer in the bathroom cabinet." He hands me a sheet of paper. "This has her pediatrician's information, my work number, cell phone, and Cole's number, my boss, in case you can't reach me."

"You're very prepared," I observe, taking a sip of my coffee. It's delicious, strong and rich.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "When it's just the two of us, I can't afford not to be."

There's something sad in his expression that makes me want to reach out and touch his arm, but I restrain myself.

"You're doing a great job with her," I say instead. "She's wonderful."

"Thank you. There's one more thing you should know," he says, his voice lower.

"Ember sometimes has... episodes when she gets very upset or excited.

She might get overheated or seem like she's having trouble breathing.

It's not asthma," he adds quickly, seeing my concerned expression.

"The doctor says it's a form of anxiety response.

If it happens, just help her focus on her breathing.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. She knows what to do."

"I understand," I say, though I make a mental note to read up more on childhood anxiety disorders. "Is there anything that typically triggers these episodes?"

He hesitates. "Strong emotions, usually. Talking about her mother can be difficult for her."

"I'll be careful," I promise.

Damon nods, seemingly satisfied. "Any questions for me before I have to leave?"

I have dozens, actually, but most seem too personal for our current professional relationship. "Not right now, but I'll text you if anything comes up."

"Good." He checks his watch again. "I should get going. Ember!" he calls. "I'm leaving for work now."

There's a thunder of little feet as Ember races down the stairs, launching herself into her father's arms. He catches her easily, lifting her high above his head before bringing her down for a hug. The absolute adoration in both their expressions makes my heart squeeze.

"Be good for Luna today," he tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Remember what we talked about."

Ember nods solemnly. "No accidents."

"That's my girl." He sets her down gently. "I'll be home by six."

I walk him to the door, suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. This man is entrusting me with his most precious treasure.

"She'll be fine," I assure him, seeing the reluctance in his eyes.

"I know she will." He pauses at the door. "Luna, thank you for this. Finding someone Ember connects with... It means more than I can say."

Before I can respond, he's gone, striding toward a large black pickup truck parked in the driveway. I watch as he drives away, feeling Ember's small hand slip into mine.