Falling For The Single Dad

Freddie was delicious.

Bright and bubbly, his fair hair sticking up on one side as if he’d slept on it. It was soft and unruly, much like Harry’s own, and it felt just right under his hand.

‘’Nough?’ Freddie asked, and Harry nodded, looking at the jug he’d found.

‘I think it’s enough.’

But, of course, it sank straight into the sand, and Freddie’s excitement turned to disappointment.

‘Mummy!’ he wailed, running to her and throwing himself at her knees, and Harry felt racked with guilt because he’d suggested it and it had failed and now the boy was upset. Damn. Could he do nothing right?

Em looked up at him with an apologetic smile. ‘There’s a cake ring in the drawer under the oven,’ she told him. ‘It should just about fit over the castle. You could use that and fill it with water.’

So they went back up to the kitchen, and found the cake ring, and with a bit of adjustment they fitted it over the sandcastle and filled it with water, and even found a stick to make a drawbridge and floated a leaf in it as a boat.

And the look on Freddie’s face was priceless. ‘Boat!’ he said, and ran to his mother yet again, his eyes alight. ‘Mummy, boat!’ Ook!’

Emily looked, admired it dutifully and threw Harry a smile over Freddie’s head, then stood up. ‘I have to get Beth,’ she said, ‘and I think this little one needs her daddy’s attention.’

There was a spreading stain below her nappy, and Harry’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure if there was a washing machine in the house, and she’d only got a few clothes. Clearly, at this rate he was going to have to buy a whole lot more!

‘Fancy company? If I change her quickly, could I come, too? And afterwards, if you were feeling really kind, you could point me in the direction of the nearest supermarket or baby shop so I can buy her more stuff.’

‘Sure. I was going to walk, but we can take the car. I’ll give Georgie a ring and warn her we might be late.’

He nodded, took the baby from her gingerly and went through the fence. She was starting to fuss, but she settled once he’d changed her and put her in the carrier, and he met Emily on the drive just as she was putting Freddie into his seat.

‘Can we squeeze this in?’

‘This?’ she said with a chuckle, taking the carrier from him. ‘Poor baby, what a way to talk about you! He’s a bad daddy.’

She hoisted it into the car and strapped it in, then got behind the wheel. He slid in beside her, shifting so he could watch her. ‘So where are we going?’

‘A friend’s—actually, Georgie Cauldwell. Do you remember her? Her father’s a builder—we used to go and crawl around on the building sites when we were kids.’

He nodded. ‘I remember her—small but fiery. Brown hair, green eyes, lots of personality?’

She shot him a look. ‘You do remember her. Very well. Did you have a thing about her, Harry?’

He laughed softly. ‘Hardly. You were more than enough trouble for me.’ He looked away. ‘So what’s she doing now?’

‘She’s married to a guy from London with pots of money. He’s a darling. They’ve got three kids that were his sister’s, but she was killed on the way home from hospital when she had the last one. It was awful. Anyway, they’ve adopted them and Georgie’s pregnant now, so it’s just as well they’ve got this big house.’

She swung into the drive of a huge Victorian villa overlooking the sea and cut the engine. Two boys came running over with a little girl he knew instantly must be Beth. She was every inch her mother’s daughter, from the soft dark curls that tumbled round her shoulders to the twinkling, mischievous eyes that reminded him so much of Em when he’d first met her.

And behind them came Georgie, older of course but still essentially the same, a baby in her arms. He unfolded himself from the seat and stood up, and with a little cry of welcome she hugged him with her free arm, her smile open and friendly.

‘Harry! Emily said you were back—oh, it’s so good to see you again. Welcome back to Yoxburgh. Come on in and meet Nick—Oh, and this is the baby!’ she added, peering into the car. ‘Oh, Harry, she’s lovely!’

The baby in her arms was pretty gorgeous, too, and when she burrowed her head in her mother’s shoulder and then peeped at him and giggled, he couldn’t help responding. ‘So who’s this?’ he asked after a moment or two of pee-boo-ing and giggles.

‘Maya,’ Georgie said. ‘Aren’t you? She can say her name now. Tell Harry who you are.’

‘Harry,’ the baby said, swivelling round and pointing, and burrowed into her shoulder again. Still smiling, he followed the direction she’d pointed in and met a challenging stare.

‘You’ve got my name,’ the boy said, his head tilting to one side. ‘I’m Harry.’

Harry grinned. ‘Is that right?’

He nodded.

‘Well, in that case I think you must have my name, since I had it about twenty something years before you needed it, but hey, that’s cool, I don’t mind sharing. It’s a good name, it would be mean to keep it to myself.’

They swapped grins, and then he was introduced to Dickon, Harry’s younger brother, and Em’s daughter Beth.

So many children—and now it was his turn. He got the carrier out of the car, turned it towards them all and said with a curious feeling of rightness, ‘This is Kizzy. She’s my daughter.’

‘Is Emily her mummy?’ Dickon asked, puzzled, and Harry shook his head.

Should he say this? Hell, these kids had lost their mother only a year or so ago. Was it really fair to dredge it all up?

Yes. Because life wasn’t fair, and the truth would come out at some point, he was sure, so he shook his head again and said gently, ‘Her mother died.’

‘Our mummy’s dead,’ Dickon said matter-of-factly. ‘Georgie’s our new mummy. Is Emily going to be Kizzy’s new mummy?’

Emily laughed, the sound a little strained to his ears, and started towards the house. ‘Heavens, no! I’ve got enough on my plate with Beth and Freddie, haven’t I, darling?’

Beth slipped her hand into her mother’s and snuggled closer. ‘Babies are nice, though. Georgie’s having a baby.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ Em said firmly. Too firmly? He didn’t know. All he knew was that all this blatant fecundity should have sent him running—and it didn’t. And the idea of Emily being Kizzy’s new mummy was suddenly extraordinarily appealing…

‘Lovely house.’

Nick looked around and smiled the smile of a supremely contented man. ‘It is, isn’t it? Georgie and her father did the work for us, and we love it. I thought it was ridiculously big at first, but with all the kids and another on the way and my mother living with us and working here, and me working from home at first, frankly if it was any smaller it wouldn’t be big enough.’

For a man who’d evidently been a bachelor a little more than a year ago, he seemed extraordinarily happy with the way things had turned out. They were in the garden, sitting in the shade of a big old tree and looking out over the sea, and every few seconds his eyes would stray to his family, an indulgent smile touching his mouth.

Harry could understand that. His own eyes kept straying to Em and her children, her revelation about their father still ringing in his ears.

He walked—well, ran, actually. I haven’t seen lightning move so fast.

Bastard. Fancy leaving them. Although maybe it had been better to leave them with Emily who clearly adored them than to stay and make them feel unloved and unwanted, and then at the first opportunity pack them off to boarding school and to their grandparents in the holidays…

‘So where are you staying? Georgie said something about your grandmother’s house.’

He wrenched himself back to the present and gave a rueful smile. ‘Well, that was the idea, but it’s had tenants since she died ten years ago and I haven’t been back since the funeral. To be honest, it was a bit of a shock, seeing it. The agents told me it needed some cosmetic attention, but I think they were erring on the kind side. It needs gutting, frankly, so I think we’ll have to rent something.’

Georgie lifted her head and frowned at him. ‘Is it really that bad?’

‘It needs total redecoration, and if I’m going to live there long term it’ll need a new kitchen and bathroom at least, but for now a lick of paint and some clean carpets would work wonders. I don’t suppose your father knows anyone reliable?’

Her eyes flicked to her husband’s. ‘We could send in the A-team.’

Nick chuckled. ‘Indeed. We’ve got a whole range of trades,’ he explained. ‘They’re used to working together, they do a good job, their prices are reasonable and at the moment they’re not busy because there’s been a hold-up on a development. So—yeah, if you want, we could send them along to give you a quote.’

‘Fantastic. That would be great.’

And if they could do half at a time, he could stay there. It was summer, after all, and he and the baby could spend most of their time in the garden.

He didn’t let himself think too much about why it seemed so important to stay there rather than rent another house—one that wouldn’t be next to Em. After all, she’d already made it clear she wasn’t interested in being Kizzy’s new mummy.

Not that he was about to ask her, or had even really thought about it for more than a moment, but he thought about it now—couldn’t think about anything else, in fact, however foolish he knew it was. If he had any sense he’d keep well out of her way and not indulge the foolish fantasy that they, too, could have a fairy tale ending like Georgie and Nick…

Emily was stunned.

If I’m going to live there long term?

He was considering it? Really?

She’d thought he was back for a few days—just a quick visit to sort out the house ready for the next tenants. It had never occurred to her that he might be coming back for any length of time—or maybe even for good!

But if he was back for good—no. She couldn’t let herself think about it. Daren’t let herself think about it, because her heart couldn’t take any more. She’d been stupid over Harry Kavenagh once too often, and she wasn’t going to do it again.

‘So when can you start?’

‘Tomorrow? We’ll strip all the wallpaper and rip out the old floorcoverings, decorate throughout and then you’ll be ready for the new carpets. Should take a week at the most with the team on it.’

‘A week?’

‘Uh-huh. Some of the windows need quite a bit of work, unless you’re going to replace them?’

‘Um—I hadn’t intended to. I was hoping to live here while you do it.’

‘With the baby?’ The foreman shook his head. ‘No. Sorry, I really wouldn’t recommend it. Not with all the old lead paint. It’s OK when it’s left alone, but when it’s disturbed it can be harmful to children, and she’s so tiny.’ His face softened as he looked down at the baby in Harry’s arms, and Harry’s eyes followed his gaze and his eyes locked with Kizzy’s.

Wide and trusting, fixed on him.

‘No, you’re right,’ he said, wondering what on earth he did now. ‘Come tomorrow. I’ll find somewhere to go. It’s not like there’s much here to worry about in the way of furnishings. I’ll get carpets and stuff organised for when it’s done, so it won’t be for long.’

He waved them off, hesitated on the doorstep and then went round to Emily’s house and rang the doorbell.

‘Oh. It’s you,’ she said, wondering if there would ever come a time when her heart didn’t hiccup at the sight of him. ‘I thought you would have come through the fence and knocked on the back door.’

He smiled a little awkwardly. ‘I don’t want to take advantage.’

‘You aren’t taking advantage.’ She opened the door a little wider. ‘Come on in. I was just about to have coffee. Join me.’

‘Thanks.’ He followed her down the hall and into the kitchen, perching on the stool awkwardly with Kizzy snuggled against his chest, and watched her while she made their drinks.

‘Still off coffee?’ she asked with a smile, and he shook his head, his mouth kicking up in an answering smile.

‘No. I need caffeine today. I’ve just had the decorator round. He’s coming tomorrow, but they’re going to hit the whole house at once and strip it all right out. I need to find a hotel for us for a week. I wondered if you’d got any ideas or recommendations?’

‘A hotel?’ she said, and then, knowing she was going to do it and utterly unable to stop her mouth making the words, she said, ‘Don’t be silly. You can stay here. It’s only a week. You’ll be no trouble.’

No trouble? Was she out of her mind? And what was she thinking, only a week? That was seven nights! Well, five if she was lucky and he was talking working weeks, but it was Monday now, and if they’d said it would take a week then there’d be a weekend in between and so it would be properly a week before the decorators left, and then the carpets would have to be fitted and the furniture delivered. So, next Wednesday at the earliest. Oh, rats. Still, the house was plenty big enough and there were three bathrooms. They wouldn’t be tripping over each other at least.

Besides, it was too late, because he was accepting, hesitantly, reluctantly, but still accepting, and only a real bitch would say, ‘Actually, no, I’ve changed my mind, I didn’t mean it at all!’

Or a woman whose life was complicated enough, whose heart was finding it altogether too difficult to be so close to the person who’d held that heart in the palm of his hand for so very many years…

‘I’ve found my old baby sling,’ she told him, putting the coffee down in front of him and lifting the sling off the end of the worktop where she’d put it ready to give him.

‘Baby sling?’

She smiled and handed it to him. ‘You put it round your shoulders and over your back, and the baby lies against your front, without you having to hold her all the time, so she can hear your heart beat and you have your hands free. They’re wonderful.’

He studied the little heap of soft stretchy cotton fabric with interest. ‘I’ve seen things like this all over the world—women tying their babies to them so they can work, either on their fronts so they can feed them easily, or on their backs.’

She nodded. ‘The so-called civilised West has just cottoned on. It’s a big thing now. They call it baby-wearing, as if they’d just invented it, but since you seem to be doing it anyway I thought you might like to borrow that to make it easier.’

‘Thanks. You’ll have to give me lessons,’ he said, putting it down again with a defeated laugh. ‘It looks like a loop of fabric to me.’

‘It is. Here.’

And just because it was easier to show him than to put it on him with the baby still in his arms, she looped it round herself, adjusted it, took the baby from him and snuggled her inside it, close against her heart.

Kizzy shifted, sighed and snuggled closer, relaxing back into sleep without a murmur. ‘See? Then you get your hands free.’

He gave a cheeky, crooked grin. ‘Or I could let you carry her, since you seem to be the expert.’

She laughed, sat down and sipped her coffee, relishing the feel of the little one against her, warm and curiously reassuring. No. She mustn’t let herself get too used to it. It was much, much too dangerous. Her heart had already been broken by this man, and there was no way she was going to let his daughter do the same thing.

‘I don’t suppose you want to come carpet shopping with me?’

She met his eyes over her cup. ‘Can’t you cope?’ she asked, desperately trying to create a little distance, and then could have kicked herself because she would have loved to go carpet shopping with him.

He shrugged dismissively. ‘Of course I can cope. I just thought it might be more fun.’

‘What, with Freddie in tow and Mini-Dot here yelling the place down? I don’t think so.’

‘She’s not yelling now,’ he pointed out. ‘Maybe she’s stopped that.’

Foolish, foolish man.

The baby began to stir almost before he’d finished speaking, and within seconds she was bawling her tiny lungs out.

‘I’ll get her bottle,’ he said, standing up, but Emily got up, too, extracted Kizzy from the sling and handed her to him.

‘I’ve got a better idea. You take her and deal with her, and when she’s settled, you can take her carpet shopping. And I can get on with my work.’

A fleeting frown crossed his brow. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were working,’ he said, and took Kizzy from her arms. ‘We’ll get out of your way. And don’t worry about having us to stay. We’ll find a hotel.’

‘Harry, no!’ she said, angry with herself for upsetting him.

‘No, really,’ he said, his voice a little gruff. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t just come back here after all these years and expect you to welcome me with open arms.’

Oh, Harry, if you only knew, she thought, and her hand came out and curled over his wrist, holding him there with her. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—I do have work to do, and Freddie is having a nap and it’s my one chance. Please, come and stay. I can’t let you go to a hotel. Not with the baby. Anyway, Freddie and Beth will love having her here. Please?’

His eyes were serious, searching hers for an endless moment, and then, finally satisfied, he nodded briefly. ‘OK. But we’ll try and keep out of your way so we don’t stop you working.’

She felt the tension go out of her like air out of a balloon. ‘Still want help with the carpet shopping?’ she said with a smile.

CHAPTER THREE

HE HADN’T realised just what an expedition it would be, shopping with three children.

Kizzy was more than enough trouble, but by the time he’d got her fed and settled and Freddie had woken up, Beth had come back from playing with a friend, so they were all going together.

And then, of course, because she was so tiny and seemed to be hungry every three minutes or so, he needed to take feeds for Kizzy, and because she was just like a straw he’d need nappies, and because he was so rubbish at putting the nappies on she’d need a total change of clothes…

He bet they took less equipment on an Arctic expedition.

‘You OK there?’

He gave Emily what he hoped was a smile and nodded. ‘Sure. I’m fine. I’ve got everything, I think.’

She eyed the bulging bag dubiously. ‘Got wipes?’

Of course not.

He found them and put them in, then straightened up, baby carrier in hand. ‘Will I need the sling? Because I still don’t think I know how to put it on.’

‘I’ll help you. Bring it,’ she instructed, and so he followed her out—to her car, not his, because it was set up with baby seats for her two. Beth and Freddie were already strapped in, reaching across and poking each other and giggling, and they looked up and beamed a welcome at him and Kizzy that made him feel—just for a second, until he reminded himself that he wasn’t—as if he was a part of their family.

As if he belonged.

And the pain hit him in the chest like a sledgehammer.

He sucked in a breath. ‘Hi, kids,’ he said, leaning over Freddie to put the baby carrier in the middle, and Freddie reached up and grabbed his face and planted a wet, sticky kiss on his cheek.

‘Harry!’ he said happily, and Harry straightened up and ruffled Freddie’s hair and swallowed hard.

No. They weren’t his kids. He wasn’t going to get involved. Look what had happened the last time he’d got involved in someone’s life…

‘All set?’

He clipped on his seat belt and nodded. Emily started the car and headed for town.

It was a good job he had her in tow, she thought.

He was fingering a lovely pale pure wool carpet with a thoughtful look on his face.

‘Imagine it with baby sick and play-dough on it,’ she advised sagely, and he wrinkled his nose and sighed heavily.

‘So what would you suggest?’

‘Something a little darker? Something scrubbable? There are some you can pour bleach on. Maybe a tiny pattern, just to break it up? Or a heather mix, so it’s not a flat, plain colour.’

He was glazing over, she could tell. Poor baby. For the first time in his life he was up against having to consider something other than his own taste. And he didn’t like it.

‘I want wood, really. I’d like to strip the boards, or put down an oak strip floor, perhaps. I’ve got solid walnut in my flat and it’s gorgeous. And you can wipe it clean.’

‘Hard to fall on, and it can be a bit cold. Anyway, they probably couldn’t do a really nice floor that fast.’

‘Oh, damn,’ he said, ramming his hands through his hair and grinning ruefully. ‘I tell you what, you choose. You’ve had more experience than I have. So long as it covers the floor and I can have it next Tuesday, I don’t care.’

So she chose—a soft pale coffee mix that would stand children running in and out—and then wondered what on earth she was thinking about because the only child running in and out would be Kizzy and she was less than two weeks old! He’d probably replace the carpet before she was walking.

‘Next?’

‘Furniture? I haven’t got any.’

So she took him to a place that sold beds and sofas and dining furniture, and he ordered the best compromise between what he wanted and what was available at short notice, and then right on cue Kizzy started up.

Freddie was wriggling around in the buggy, wanting to get out, and Beth was hanging on her hand and needed the loo.

‘How about lunch?’ she suggested. ‘Then we can tackle curtains and bedding—a bit more retail therapy for you.’

‘Retail therapy?’ He gave a snort. ‘Not in this lifetime—but lunch sounds good,’ he said, the air of hunted desperation easing slightly at the suggestion of reprieve, and she nearly laughed out loud.

Poor Harry. Anyone less in touch with their feminine side she had yet to meet, but she had to hand it to him. He was taking it on the chin and giving it his best shot, and she felt a strangely proprietorial sense of pride in him.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Emily tucked her arm through his and steered him into the little café next door, sat him and Beth down, found a high chair for Freddie and took Kizzy from the sling on Harry’s chest, rocking her while the waitress heated the bottle. Then she fed her while her children played with their bendy straws and Harry sat back and closed his eyes and inhaled a double espresso with the air of a condemned man taking his last meal.

It was all she could do not to laugh.

‘Well, that was painless.’

‘Painless?’ He cracked an eye open and studied her for signs of lunacy. ‘I thought we’d never get them settled. I’m exhausted.’

‘You’ll get used to it,’ she promised. ‘I did.’

‘You’re a woman. You have hormones.’

‘Yes—and usually they’re a hazard,’ she said with a chuckle in her voice, and he opened the other eye and sat up a little.

They were in her sitting room, all three children sound asleep, and his few possessions were now installed in Dan’s bedroom, which just happened to be next to hers. Unfortunately. He could have done with being at the other end of the hall, or downstairs, or even at the end of the garden—

No. He couldn’t afford to think about the summerhouse. Not now, when he was alone with her for the first time in years, and there was soft music flowing all around them and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and carry on where they’d left off…

‘Are you OK?’

‘Sure. Why?’

‘You’re scowling.’

He tried to iron out the muscles in his face and struggled for a smile. ‘Sorry. Thanks for today. I don’t suppose you enjoyed it any more than I did,’ he said, and then realised it was actually a lie, because in some bizarre way he had enjoyed it, all of it. And because he couldn’t lie to her, because he never had, he shook his head and smiled again, properly this time. ‘Actually, it was fun, in a strange way,’ he admitted, and she smiled back, her eyes soft with understanding.

‘You’ll get used to it, Harry. It’s not so bad after a while.’

‘Because it’s so long since you’ve done anything for yourself that you forget to miss it?’ he suggested, and she gave a wry chuckle.