Six More Hot Single Dads!. Kate Hardy

didn’t look for anyone else,” he told her. “And that date that canceled—”

      She raised her hand as if to physically stop the flow of words. “Wait. Brandon. I’m sorry if I made you think that—well, you don’t owe me an explanation—”

      This time it was his turn to interrupt her. “I know, I was volunteering information. I just wanted you to know that I made that date two months ago, when my friend gave me the opening date for his restaurant. I didn’t even know you then.”

      There was no reason for her to feel that burst of sunshine going off inside of her. After all, she knew this was just temporary and had just spent the morning telling herself over and over again that she wasn’t expecting anything lasting from him.

      And truth be told, if she suspected their friendship could last, she’d already be packing up and heading for the hills.

      Because something like that, something that promised to be lasting, that promised her love for a lifetime, had disaster and heartache written all over it in big, bold neon letters.

      Even though she knew how she would react, and still, still she couldn’t help herself. Right now, in this very moment in time, she just couldn’t stop smiling.

      As if she actually believed in love and “happily ever after.”

      She knew better than that.

      Isabelle kept on smiling anyway.

       Chapter Thirteen

      “Are you sure you want to do this?”

      Brandon sat on Victoria’s canopied double bed, watching his daughter debating between which pair of almost identical white cutoffs to take with her to summer camp.

      Was it his imagination, or were there fewer stuffed animals lining the bottom shelf of her bookcase in her ultrafeminine bedroom than usual?

      It was official. His daughter was growing up much too fast.

      Victoria never broke stride. She was only half packed and her best friend’s mother was coming by soon to pick her up to drive them to the camp bus. She’d been adamant about her father not coming along. She didn’t think he was up to watching her board the bus.

      “Dad, I’m all packed and you paid for my two weeks at camp way back in April. It’s nonrefundable,” she reminded him.

      Money was so not the point here. He was finally at a stage in his life where money no longer represented a concern of any kind.

      He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re having second thoughts or cold feet about going, don’t feel as if you have to leave,” he told her.

      Victoria paused to smile at him fondly. “My feet are as warm as the rest of me, Dad. I want to go. It’ll be fun,” she promised him encouragingly. She crossed to the bureau to check if she’d left anything behind on the list she’d made for herself.

      Victoria might not be having second thoughts, but he was. He liked having his daughter around, and this was her first time away from home. Victoria was well-traveled, but they had always done it together.

      “All right,” he allowed reluctantly, “but if you get there and decide you want to come home—”

      She closed her eyes and answered him, reciting the words as if they’d been drummed into her head. “I’ll call you to come rescue me.”

      “Right.” Well, at least he’d gotten that across to her.

      After his daughter crossed back to the bed, she deposited three more items into the suitcase, then snapped the locks into place. This was it. She was really going. With a sigh, he got off the bed.

      “You have your cell phone?”

      “In my pocket, Dad.” She tapped the slight bulge in the pocket of her candy-striped shorts.

      Brandon nodded, casting about for a way to stall and squeeze out an extra minute or two longer with his daughter. “Good. And your charger? You didn’t forget your charger, did you?”

      “In my suitcase,” she answered patiently. “Next to the whistle you gave me to blow in case I see a snake charging at me.”

      He’d have to be deaf to miss what the tone in her voice was saying. “Okay, maybe I’m being a little over-protective—” he allowed.

      Victoria flashed him a very knowing, tolerant grin. “You think?”

      Taking her suitcase off the bed for her, he slung his free arm around her shoulders as they made their way out of the room. “But you’re the only daughter I have and it would be such a pain breaking in a brand-new one. Try to come back in one piece for me, okay?”

      She pretended to take that as a serious request. “I’ll do my best, Dad.” And then, as they came to the top of the stairs, she looked at him and softened. “It’s going to be okay,” she told him as if she was the parent and he the child who needed reassuring.

      “Yeah, I know,” he said, so proud of her it hurt.

      They went down the stairs. Anastasia deliberately let them have a moment together and waited in another room until she could say goodbye.

      Brandon turned toward his daughter as she reached the bottom step. “Victoria?”

      She checked her purse one last time for the new essentials in her life: light pink lipstick and suntan lotion. “Yes, Dad?”

      “You don’t think I’ve been an unavailable father, do you?”

      Victoria glanced up from her search, snapping her purse closed. She did her best not to laugh. “Dad, if you were any more available, I’d have to run away from home.”

      He saw a very real parallel in her reply. “Is that why you’re…?”

      Because she was his daughter, she knew where this was going. They had a very strong bond and often had the same thoughts.

      “No! Dad, you’re the best dad in the whole world. I’m a really lucky kid. You’ve always been there for me and I’ve never felt the lack of anything. I have no complaints. Except—”

      “Aha, you do have a complaint.” Here it came. He braced himself.

      When she spoke, she didn’t say anything remotely close to what he was expecting. “I think you need a girl friend.”

      Stunned, he stared at her. “What?”

      Victoria explained patiently, “Dad, you’re not getting any younger and neither am I. I’m going to start dating, going away to college. You need another hobby other than me.” She sighed and gazed at him. “How about Isabelle? She seems very nice. Gemma likes her and you know how hard she is to please. And I think Isabelle’s great.”

      Just then, a car horn beeped three times, then twice. Victoria grabbed her suitcase. “That’s Marisol’s mom. I’ve gotta go. Tell me you’ll at least think about what I just said,” she implored.

      He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about Victoria dating or going away to college. It was hard enough for him to let her go for a sleepover for a single night, much less a semester…or even longer. But for her peace of mind, he murmured dutifully, “I’ll think about it.”

      Victoria rose up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. Now, you’re not going to worry, right?”

      “Right,” he muttered, his heart clearly not in the lie he was parroting back.

      In a rare display of sensitivity, Anastasia had deliberately remained out of sight in order to give her son and granddaughter time together. But now, as if right on cue, the actress swept into the foyer, her electric blue caftan billowing about her, and encircled