Page 33 of Single Daddy To Go

“Good,” he replies, pulling my curvy form against his hard body as we trail his daughter around the carnival grounds. “I like hearing that.” I snuggle closer to him, feeling warm and safe.

The rest of the carnival passes in a blur. We ride a couple more rides, playing with bumper cars and shooting aliens in an arcade. Rob wins a small bear and some kind of glow in the dark creature, which we tuck into Katie’s backpack. I feel completely carefree. It’s been a long time since I’ve had so much fun and felt so much love too.

Lunch time rolls around and Katie complains that she’s hungry. I break out the snacks we’ve packed for her, but she wants to sample the carnival’s wares. At first, Rob refuses, saying that this kind of food isn’t healthy for a growing child, but the little girl seems to have inherited his gift of persuasion, and he relents.

“Alright, Katie, you can choose one treat, but only one,” he warns.

She walks along the aisles, taking a long time with the decision, asking the different vendors why their food is the best. The lady who sells funnel cakes gives a good spiel, explaining that the cake is not only tasty, but comes with a special boysenberry jam. The little girl nods.

“I want that one,” she says, pulling on Rob’s sleeve.

We buy a funnel cake and share it. Katie gets covered in powdered sugar and jam. I wash her up so she doesn’t get the lion all sticky too, and soon afterwards, she falls asleep in the stroller, snuggled up with her prize.

“She’s so precious,” I say to Rob as we keep strolling along, pushing the sleeping little girl.

“You’re so good with her,” he says. “I think you’d make an amazing mom.”

Of course, my cheeks flush bright red because I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I can’t hide my emotions from him, and never have been able to. Still, it’s too early. I feel like I want to spend the rest of my life with Rob, but I know that rushing into things leads to bad decisions. After all, I don’treallyknow him yet. We’ve never even had a fight.

So I go the teasing route instead. “I’m going to end up a mother if you’re not careful. We’re supposed to be using protection, but there have been so many times when we’ve forgotten,” I admonish him.

He nods and laughs, all masculine satisfaction. “I know,” he says, as if it’s no big deal.

I can’t believe he’s being so flippant about it. He’s not the one who has to deal with the consequences. I shove his shoulder. “Be serious,” I say.

“I am being serious,” he says, his expression more thoughtful. “I genuinely think you’d make an amazing mother. I’d love to see you pregnant because I’d love to be a father again.”

I almost can’t believe he’s saying this. I don’t know how to respond. I would love to have a child with him, but I’m scared to admit it. It would mean so many different things. Being together … maybe permanently. Is that what he’s asking? I’m so stunned that I can’t even breathe. But Rob is completely at ease.

“I just bought a new apartment,” he goes on. “It’s in the same building as my current place, but it’s even bigger so we’ll have plenty of room. Plus, I just got a new SUV that has nine seats.”

Why is he telling me all this? I feel myself flushing. Wow. I didn’t expect things to get so serious so soon. Is he buying a new penthouse so I can move in and have his baby? Or babies, plural? Is he getting a huge SUV so we can fill it with kids and cart them around? Does this mean he wants to marry me? Is he being for real or just talking? I feel a rush of hope, but I’m too shy to put words to what I’m feeling.

I open my mouth to ask, but it’s too late. Rob’s looking into my eyes, that blue gaze swallowing me whole. He pulls me close and kisses me. I taste the heat and promise of his lips. I feel secure and safe in his strong arms. I feel such a profound sense of trust, my heart reaching towards his. I’ve never felt this way about any other man, and I would love nothing more than to be the mother of his children. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m ready to follow wherever he wants to go.

13

Ally

Another day at Ladybug Tots goes by like any other, filled with the laughter of children and the tea-cup dramas that seem so big to little people. I break up a fight over the sharing of some blocks. I kiss two boo boos and make them better. I help some kids create art with macaroni and glitter. I get through my day with my usual cheeriness, knowing soon I’ll be back in Rob’s arms. My life has never been so perfect.

The day at the carnival blew me away because Rob and I have never talked again about starting a family together. There were multiple times when the subject was on the tip of my tongue, but I always held back. I don’t know what it is. Fear of ruining something that’s perfect? Fear of losing him if I ask too many questions?

It’s silly, I know, but I’ve never been so happy before, and I don’t want to screw it up. So I carry around the thought of a family with this man like a treasured gift, cradling it in my heart. An opportunity to ask Rob about it again will come again, and this time, I’ll be ready. I’ll know exactly what to say, and we’ll waltz off into the future while dancing on rosy clouds. It makes me incredibly happy, and I’m positively glowing with good vibes.

But still, there’s work to be done at Ladybug Tots and someone’s got to do it. I’m cleaning up a huge paste spill, humming to myself, when Rob’s ex Lindsay arrives. It’s early, only four thirty in the afternoon, so I’m not expecting any parents to come by yet. I’m on my hands and knees, with a sponge and bucket. I put down the sponge, wipe my hands on my apron, and push an escaped tendril of hair behind my ears. Great, I’m sweaty and hot, and covered with grime. Lindsay, by contrast, is dressed to the nines. She’s wearing a all-khaki outfit and heels to match, with her hair expertly styled and her face contoured within an inch of its life. She looks like she has somewhere to be that’sdefinitelynot Ladybug Tots. I wonder about it, but I’m too polite to say anything.

“Hello, Mrs. Sty,” I say to her, my tone as polite as possible. I try not to think about how terrible I look next to her perfectly put together self.

She makes a little sound in her throat, and gives me a fake smile, as if she just wants to show me her teeth.

“Hi,” she says in a falsely friendly tone. “How are you today?”

I smile back, not letting her cruel tone get to me.

“Very well, thank you.”

She doesn’t hesitate.