Christmas With The Single Dad. Sarah Morgan

      ‘I thought you might like to give something else a try.’

      ‘Like?’

      His mouth curled up. ‘Don’t trust me, huh? I’m the guy that got you hooked on riding, remember?’

      He was also the guy who’d kissed her with a thoroughness that still had her waking up in the middle of the night. A whole host of images assaulted her—a whole variety of ways to get some additional exercise.

      She backed up a step, pointed down the corridor behind her. ‘I’m nearby if one of the children wakes up.’

      ‘I asked Dee to keep an ear out for them over the next hour.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘I don’t want you becoming Dee’s drudge. Those boys are a handful.’

      She snorted again. And then winced. She really had to get better at curbing that habit. ‘They’re great fun and I am in no danger of becoming a drudge. Lord, your mother, sister and housekeeper all help so much with the children that some days I feel I’m hardly pulling my weight.’

      He snorted in the exact same fashion. She couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t sound like a pig. ‘Not pulling your weight? You keep everything running like clockwork. It’d all be a shambles if you weren’t here.’ He sobered. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Ella and Holly so carefree and excited. I’m glad you came to stay.’

      At his words, her chin lifted and her shoulders went back. She had to blink hard a couple of times. ‘I’m glad I came to stay too.’

      ‘Does that mean you’re willing to risk life and limb to try out a new form of exercise?’

      She gave in. The siren call of the rowing machine just wasn’t loud enough. It couldn’t compete with Cade’s grin … or her own curiosity.

      Without another word, she nodded and followed him.

      A few moments later they stood in a cleared space in the barn. When Cade held out a pair of boxing gloves to her, she frowned, blinked and then put her hands behind her back. ‘No way.’

      ‘These are boxing gloves, Nicola,’ he started patiently.

      ‘I know what they are. And I repeat, no way.’

      He stared at her with pursed lips.

      ‘I’ve seen Rocky.’ She hitched up her chin. ‘I saw what happened to some of those guys in the ring, and they were fit! There’s no way on God’s green I’m going to let you hit me, regardless of what tripe you give me about how soft those gloves are. So I repeat, no way.’

      He grinned so suddenly the impact was nearly physical. She planted her feet in an effort to counter it.

      ‘I won’t be hitting you, Nicola. You’ll be hitting me.’ He smirked. ‘Or at least trying to.’

      Her eyes narrowed at that. She hauled her hands from behind her back and took the gloves. He smirked again, insufferably superior, as she pulled them on. ‘It’s just possible that I may grow to enjoy this as much as riding Scarlett,’ she warned him.

      ‘I’m counting on it,’ he said, sliding his hands into thick square mitts that had even more padding than her gloves.

      ‘Ah, so you won’t be wholly unprotected, then?’

      ‘Nope, which is just as well when the woman I’m about to face has such a martial light in her eye.’

      That made her laugh. When he squared up to her and ordered her to show him what she had, though, she found it curiously difficult to do as he asked.

      He lowered his protective mitts. ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘It just seems wrong to hit you. Terribly impolite and … well, violent.’

      ‘Pretend I’m that rowing machine.’ He squared up again. ‘Hit me in the middle of my left mitt.’

      She did.

      He lowered his hands and glared. ‘Put some oomph into it!’

      ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

      ‘Honey, that’ll be the day.’

      That patronising ‘honey’ set her teeth on edge.

      ‘Boxing, when it’s done right, is an excellent cardiovascular workout. And it’s a good way of getting rid of pent-up tension.’

      ‘I don’t have any pent-up tension,’ she managed between gritted teeth.

      ‘Really?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What did your mother say when you told her you were coming out here for Christmas?’

      Run away, Nicola Ann, with your tail between your legs, but the mess will still be here when you come back.

      She let fly with a punch that thwacked satisfyingly into Cade’s left mitt.

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘And I’ve been wanting to know …’

      ‘Yes?’ she ground out.

      ‘If you’ve come up with a strategy for the cruel remarks that’ll be headed your way at the wedding?’

      Thwack! Thwack! ‘What comments?’

      He assumed a mocking high-pitched voice. ‘You’re putting on a very brave face, dear, but I can imagine how you’re really feeling.’

      Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

      ‘Put some feeling into it,’ he ordered. ‘Put your whole body behind it.’

      Her whole body, huh?

      He lifted his chin and assumed that voice again. ‘This wedding must be a nightmare for you, I know, but even you have to admit that the bride is glowing. They look so happy together, don’t you think?’

      Thwack!

      ‘I bet you fifty bucks that Diane throws the bouquet to you.’

      She paled at that one. Thwack!

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he simpered in that high-pitched voice again, ‘I expect Brad will two-time her too.’

      ‘Stop it!’ she croaked. ‘Stop saying such cruel things.’

      ‘It’s what people will say.’ He lowered his mitts.

      ‘And you think I’m so pathetic that I won’t be able to cope with it or defend myself?’

      ‘I think you ought to be prepared, that’s all.’ His eyes suddenly flashed and his hands came back up. ‘But while we’re on the subject, I think your ex is a two-timing, cheating scumbag and your best friend a back-stabbing witch!’

      Nicola wasn’t even aware that she’d thrown the punch until it connected with Cade’s jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground.

       CHAPTER SIX

      NICOLA stared at Cade, sprawled at her feet and with a little cry she shook off her boxing gloves and knelt in the dirt beside him, wrung her hands before touching his face. ‘Oh, my God! Did I hurt you? Cade?’

      Those blue eyes, normally so piercing, stared up at her, slightly dazed.

      She’d meant to throw that punch, but she’d thought … Well, she’d thought he’d block it!

      She swallowed. Who’d have thought she had such lightning reflexes? That punch had been fast … and … um … hard. Put your whole body behind it. Oh, she’d done that.

      Nausea swirled through her. She’d thought he’d block her punch, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d lashed out in anger.

      ‘Cade?’

      He didn’t speak. Guilt,