Resisting The Single Dad. Louisa George

over Rory and kissed him gently on the head, the muscles on his chest and arms visible beneath the thin soft cotton T-shirt.

      Her skin prickled. It wasn’t like her to notice things like that. Of course she wasn’t blind. Of course she’d had a few relationships in the past. But she’d never been the kind of girl to really notice a guy. To look at his eyes. To look at his build. To notice the way he looked at his son.

      She gave herself a shake. She was being ridiculous.

      It looked like Gene could be a while, so she backed out of the door into the corridor.

      She had work to do. Plenty to distract her in the meantime. Cardiac research could easily stop her thinking about the man with the accent as thick as syrup and his equally cute young son.

      She gave herself a shake and hurried back to the kitchen, pulling a stack of paperwork from her bag.

      Work. That’s where she was always safest. She should concentrate on that.

      * * *

      Rory had snored peacefully all night while Gene had slept fitfully. It always took him a few days to be comfortable enough in his surroundings to sleep well. It didn’t help that his mind had kept drifting to the chestnut-haired woman with the bright green eyes.

      He still wasn’t sure about her. If Professor Helier wasn’t going to be around he’d give her a day, then decide if he was staying or not. He’d learned not to waste time in this life.

      Rory got ready eagerly, jumping into a pair of bright green shorts and his favourite baseball shirt and hat while Gene showered. He generally liked to dress a little more informally at work, but first impressions always lasted, so he left his Stetson on the dresser and pulled on work clothes more fitting for a cardiac physician.

      By the time they reached the kitchen, Cordelia was already there, humming to herself as the coffee percolated and she popped some bread in the toaster. The kitchen table was set with cutlery, some cereals, a jug of milk and some butter, jam and marmalade. She even had a little pad and pen with ‘Shopping list’ written across the top.

      She smiled as they appeared. ‘Good morning. Hi, Rory, did you sleep well last night?’

      Rory started. It was almost as if he’d forgotten that he’d met her last night. Gene pulled out a chair for him. Cordelia had the sides of her hair pulled back in a clip and she was wearing a red dress and black suit jacket. The dress ended just on her knees and he blinked in surprise at her red baseball boots.

      She laughed at his expression. ‘I know. I know. I had a problem with my feet a few years ago. I find baseball boots comfiest.’ She pointed to a pair of medium-heeled black shoes at the side of the kitchen, ‘But I promise I’ll change before we leave.’

      ‘What happened to your feet?’ Rory asked immediately, while Gene cringed.

      There was the briefest uncomfortable blink from Cordelia then she gave a small shrug. ‘A very long time ago I was a ballet dancer. And when you’re a ballet dancer you go right up on your tippy-toes.’ She opened one palm and put the tips of the fingers of her other hand in the centre. ‘But when you do that when you’re still young it does damage to your toes.’ She pulled a face. ‘So my feet are quite ugly. But...’ she waved down at her shoes ‘...it gives me a chance to wear my favourite baseball boots.’

      Gene felt a bit warmer. She seemed a little more relaxed this morning. More amenable. Maybe she’d got her head around sharing this house with a stranger and his kid.

      Rory stared at her. ‘I like them,’ he said as he shot a glance at his dad. Gene almost laughed out loud. He knew exactly what was coming.

      ‘I wanted red baseball boots, but my dad wouldn’t get me any.’

      Cordelia grabbed the toast as it popped and put it on a plate, carrying it over to the table with the coffee pot. She raised her eyebrows and gave Rory a conspiratorial glance. ‘He wouldn’t? Why ever not?’

      She sounded easy. She sounded comfortable around them, but Gene noticed a tiny twitch at the side of her eye. She might be acting as if everything was fine, but she was still a little nervous. Why?

      He picked up a piece of toast for Rory and started buttering it for him, smiling at his son the whole time. ‘I didn’t buy him a pair of red baseball boots because we already have a pair of blue and a pair of green.’

      ‘You have?’ Cordelia ducked her head under the table.

      She frowned as she sat up. ‘But those aren’t baseball boots.’

      Rory smiled as he picked up his toast. ‘Yeah. I put on my runners today. I decided I might need to be real quick.’

      Gene poured some of the coffee into the mugs on the table. ‘Why would you need to be quick, Rory?’

      Rory bit his toast and chewed for a few seconds before he answered in a whisper. ‘Because there might be...girls.’

      Cordelia choked at the other side of the table, putting her hand over her mouth, her cheeks getting pinker and pinker. Gene watched in amusement. ‘Okay?’

      She nodded and jumped up, grabbing a glass for some water. ‘Yes. Sorry.’ She smiled as she looked back at Rory. ‘I just wasn’t expecting that one.’

      Gene leaned forward on the table, looking between his son and Cordelia. He ruffled Rory’s hair again. ‘Dad,’ said Rory, trying to shake him off, ‘stop that.’

      Gene pulled his hand back and shrugged at Cordelia. ‘Apparently, it doesn’t matter what nursery or day care Rory goes to—his blond hair makes all the girls say he is cute.’

      ‘I’m not cute. I’m four,’ said Rory quickly.

      Cordelia grinned as she sat down again. ‘I think four is kind of cute.’

      Rory rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, not you too.’

      Gene pulled a face at her and bent down to whisper in Rory’s ear. ‘Watch out, Rory. She might be like those other girls. She might want to kiss you.’

      Rory gave a shudder and Cordelia laughed out loud. It was almost as if he could see the knot in her shoulders start to loosen.

      They finished breakfast quickly and Gene scribbled a list for the housekeeper. ‘Remember red apples, Dad. And ’nanas.’ Gene added bananas to the list as Rory stuck his arms into his jacket. He was proud at how articulate his little boy was, but there were still some words that seemed like tongue-twisters to a four-year-old.

      He swung Rory up into his arms. ‘Ready?’

      Rory held up his fist and Gene bumped his against it. It was their move. Their superhero move.

      Cordelia’s brow was wrinkled as she watched them. She had kind of a bewildered smile on her face as she stood next to the alarm, ready to punch in the code. ‘Let’s go then, guys.’

      * * *

      For the last week she’d breakfasted with Franc. It had been a much more genteel and sedate experience. This morning had been entirely different.

      And it made her feel...odd.

      She was getting to the stage in life where most of her friends had kids. Those who knew her best had enough awareness to realise that she occasionally found things tough. It wasn’t that she completely avoided kids. Of course she couldn’t. She just didn’t generally have them under her nose.

      So this was different.

      And even though part of her stomach twisted and turned, it was also nice. And that was unexpected.

      This morning’s breakfast had been noisy, chaotic and maybe even a little fun.

      They travelled the distance to the institute easily. It was close enough to the city centre for public transport but far enough away to be spacious and have adequate parking.

      The institute employed more than three hundred staff.