Page 44 of Scouting the Single Dad

I look back.

They’re headed the opposite direction, Benny bouncing, Hayes’s head bent so he can hear her when she talks, his hand hovering near her shoulder, not touching but . . . ready to pull her into his body. Protective.

His scowl is back in full force.

I put that there.

I pivot away and make myself cross the gravel. My phone buzzes in my back pocket.

Hayes:

If you change your mind about the headset, shoot me an email and I’ll send you cash for it.

Me:

Not necessary!

Three dots appear, disappear.

A beat passes.

I stare down at my phone when I should be Working! I am Working, dammit!

Still, I can’t resist flirting with this big, handsome, grumpy man who has the cutest, most adorable daughter.

Me:

If you plan to stick around for late lunch/early dinner, the vendor at the end of the row makes the good pot roast sandwich. Ask for extra jus. Delicious.

Hayes:

Yeah, I’ll definitely do that.

Me:

Enjoy!

Hayes:

Enjoy running your town.

I catch myself smiling like an idiot at my screen. Enough. Phone goes into the pocket. Both hands free. Eyes up.

You are not the kind of woman who gets derailed by a scowling running back with thick forearms and a cleft in his chin who could probably bench-press you. Who has a soft mouth and warm lips and—

“You are also definitely not the kind of woman who’s going to google flights to Sky Harbor Airport.”

Nope.

I am not that kind of woman.

Chapter 10

Hayes:

You make it through the day intact?

Layla: