If You Give a Single Dad a Nanny: a single dad, grumpy sunshine, small town romance

TODAY HAS BEEN JAM-PACKED with back-to-back meetings with no end in sight. I’m leaning back in my chair at the head of the table as Jared, one of my analysts, drones on about a revised cost-benefit analysis.

I check my watch to see that it’s already 3:00 p.m. I had to disable notifications on my phone, and it’s been bothering me that I haven’t checked in with Marlow since before lunchtime.

I wasn’t thrilled when Harrison told me I had to come to New York City this week for in-person meetings. But my team and I are entangled in extensive red tape to finalize the finances for the Vanburen project before the city approves the development, so there was no way around this trip.

While I’m taking the lead here in New York, Cash is in London, overseeing the training of a team for our new office. Although, judging from the photos he’s posted on social media, it seems he’s dedicating as much time to extracurricular activities as he has for work. He thrives on attention and is always the first to volunteer when a project requires extended travel. But that doesn’t do me much good when we have multiple high-profile projects in different cities.

I’ve only been in New York for two days, but it feels like an eternity.

I asked my parents to watch Lola but they’re in Spring Haven visiting my aunt. My mom said they’ve had these plans for months, but this past weekend was the first time I heard about it.

With my parents away, I asked Marlow to watch Lola. I was apprehensive at first since I haven’t left Lola with her overnight before, but she’s exceeding my expectations.

While I’ve been gone, Lola and I have a nightly video chat, and Marlow sends me hourly updates. My daughter seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself, although that doesn’t take away the regret that I’m not home with her.

The truth is, Lola isn’t the only one that’s been on my mind while I’ve been away. Marlow has occupied my thoughts since last Friday. I’ve replayed our moment outside of Willow Creek Café countless times. The way her body was flush against me, the sweet scent of citrus and rose filling the air, and the look of lust in her eyes as she gazed up at me while I teased her mouth with mine.

I miss her infectious smile, the way she bites on her lower lip when she’s nervous, and the way she makes me feel when I’m around her.

As soon as Jared wraps up his presentation, I’m out of my seat. “Let’s take a break, and we’ll reconvene in ten minutes.” I’m out the door before anyone can respond.

I rush back to my office, anxious to check in with Marlow to see how she and Lola are doing this afternoon. Lola should be home from school by now.

My pulse quickens when I check my phone and see fifteen missed calls and texts from Marlow, asking me to call her back as soon as possible. A flood of concern sweeps over me as I listen to the last voicemail she left over two hours ago.

Hi, Dylan, it’s me again. Lola’s fever spiked, and her pediatrician wants me to bring her in as a precaution. I was hoping to talk to you first, but I don’t want to wait any longer. We’re going to his office now. Please call me back as soon as you get this. Thanks, bye.

Marlow’s voice trembles like she’s on the verge of tears. I kick myself for silencing my notifications earlier. Given her lack of experience with children, I doubt she’s had to take care of a sick kid before.

I attempt to call her back repeatedly, letting out a string of curse words when she doesn’t answer. The guilt hits me hard, knowing my little ladybug is sick, and I’m not there to take care of her. I’m grateful Marlow had the good sense to take Lola to the pediatrician, though. I have to trust that she’ll hold down the fort until I can get home.

Unfortunately, Cash took the Stafford Holdings jet to London, and the helicopter is primarily used for the short-range commute to and from our headquarters in Maine, so I have no choice but to charter another flight home. I text my assistant, Max, to have him call a taxi and find me the earliest flight to Aspen Grove.

After a dozen more failed attempts to reach Marlow, I resort to calling Lola’s pediatrician. Dr. Lassen’s nurse informs me that Marlow brought Lola into the clinic a couple of hours ago. Lola was diagnosed with the flu, and Dr. Lassen said to give her Tylenol according to the instructions on the bottle, and make sure she gets plenty of fluids and rest.

By the time I touch down in Aspen Grove, my worry has morphed into frustration. I can’t believe Marlow hasn’t called back or texted an update.

I speed home from the airport and find her Jeep parked in my driveway. I pull in behind her, leaving my briefcase and luggage in the car as I rush inside to find my daughter.

“Marlow? Lola?” My voice echoes down the hall, but I’m met with silence.

I check the living room and kitchen, ignoring the messy state of the house. With no sign of them on the first floor, I go upstairs to check Lola’s room, only to find it empty.

I’m seconds away from going over to check to see if they’re at Marlow’s house when I come to a standstill in my bedroom doorway.

Marlow and Lola are both asleep in my bed.

Lola is snuggled in against Marlow, one hand draped across her stomach and the other tucked against her chest. Waffles lies on Lola’s other side, making himself at home on my memory foam pillow. He raises his head when I step further into the room, but quickly dismisses me, settling back against my pillow.

I quietly tiptoe over to the bed, leaning across Marlow to place my hand on Lola’s forehead. I sigh in relief when it’s cool to the touch. Thank god, her fever must have finally broken.

A warm feeling envelops me as I gaze down at Marlow and Lola together.

On my way home, I imagined every worst-case scenario. Nothing could have prepared me for the reality—finding my daughter snuggled safely in Marlow’s arms.

Like she can sense someone is in the room, Marlow opens her eyes, giving me a sleepy smile when she sees me standing by the bed. But her expression quickly morphs into panic when she becomes more alert.

I press my finger to my lips, gesturing to Lola, who remains sound asleep. Marlow nods in understanding and slips out of the bed, tucking the blanket around Lola and Waffles. She follows me into the hall, closing the door behind her.

When she faces me, her chin is trembling. “Dylan, I’m so sorry,” she utters.

I’m not sure she even knows why she’s apologizing. She just assumes I’m upset with her.

“I was in meetings when you called earlier. I tried calling back, but you didn’t answer,” I say in a low voice so I don’t wake Lola.

“I must have left my phone downstairs… Oh god, it’s a disaster down there,” she says with a mortified expression. “I swear I’ll clean up before I leave.”

“It’s okay.” I place my hand on her arm, rubbing gently to reassure her. “I called the doctor’s office on my way home, and the nurse filled me in. How was Lola before she fell asleep?”

“We stopped to get soup, popsicles, and Pedialyte on our way home, and she was exhausted by the time we got back. She refused the soup, but I persuaded her to have a popsicle and sip on some Pedialyte while watching an episode of Bluey. After that, I took her upstairs for a nap. She wanted to sleep in your room and begged me to lie down with her.” Marlow nervously tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I must have fallen asleep shortly after she did. I am sorry I missed your phone calls. You must have been worried sick.”

“Waffles looked like he was rather enjoying my memory foam pillow,” I say, half-kidding, nodding toward my bedroom.

Mental note: Wash my sheets and throw out my pillow.

Marlow gives me a guilty look. “Lola begged me to bring him over, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.” She drops her gaze to the floor, refusing to look at me.

Given my past reactions it’s no wonder that she’s concerned I’ll be upset. I’ve been harsh with her in the past, getting upset over minor issues, and leading her to expect it as the norm. While I can’t erase the past, I’m determined to treat her with the respect she deserves from now on.

She handled today’s events admirably, and if the roles were reversed, I doubt I would have been as understanding, taking care of a sick child and unable to reach her dad.

I step forward and lift her chin with my hand. Her tear-filled eyes meet mine. “Please don’t cry, sunshine.” I wipe away a stray tear with my thumb.

To say I don’t like seeing her sad is an understatement. I have an urgent need to fix the situation, but unlike Marlow, I don’t have a manual handy with a section on “How to Console a Beautiful Crying Woman.”

Acting on impulse, I pull her in for a hug with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight, and the other cradling the back of her head. She tenses at the unexpected gesture but relaxes into my embrace, circling her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest. It feels inherently right to have her so close, but I’m not prepared to unpack those emotions right now.

“I was so scared,” Marlow whispers. “Lola was burning with fever, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t reach you, and your mom’s phone went straight to voicemail. Thank goodness for that ridiculous binder of yours, or I probably would have called an ambulance.” She takes a slow, deliberate breath. “Are you sure you’re not upset?” she asks in a strained voice.

“I’m sure,” I say, as I rub small circles on her back.

The lingering unease I experienced on my way back from New York has dissipated entirely, allowing me to see things with a newfound clarity.

“Thank you.” I lean back to meet her gaze. “I’m glad you were with Lola today. She’s fortunate to have you in her life.”

Marlow squints at me with suspicion. “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Dylan Stafford?” she playfully demands.

“What if I said you make me want to be a better person?”

I rush to judgment more often than not, and Marlow doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. I’m a cynical son-of-a-bitch with exacting standards and view the world through a critical lens. Whereas she is sunshine personified. An eternal optimist who brightens any room she walks into. When I’m with her, my surroundings appear sunnier, inspiring me to see things in a more positive light.

A comfortable silence settles in as I wrap my arms tighter around her. She hasn’t made a move to leave my embrace, and I take the moment to appreciate having her this close.

“I have a confession,” I say softly.

“What is it?” Marlow looks up at me.

“Lola isn’t the only one I missed while I was gone.”

“She’s not?” Her eyes widen at my admission.

I shake my head, not able to find the right words.

“Does this mean you’re finally ready to confess your undying love for Waffles?” she asks with a gleam in her eye.

“I wouldn’t bank on that happening anytime soon.” I chuckle. “Not until he’s learned to behave.”

“Darn, he’ll be crushed when I break the news.” She flashes me a teasing smile.

Her smile is intoxicating, and the longer I hold her, the more difficult it is to not make a move. My resolve is on the verge of crumbling.

“In case it wasn’t clear, I was talking about you.” I slowly brush my hands down her arms, covering her skin with goosebumps. “Ever since that night at the café, I haven’t stopped thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.”

She takes a deep breath at my confession.

“Honestly, neither have I,” she confesses in a whisper.

Her admission catches me off guard, considering she called our almost kiss a terrible error in judgment. It seems I’m not the only one affected by the tangible chemistry between us, despite our best efforts to ignore it.

Marlow’s gaze shifts to my mouth, and she licks her lips. Even though I know I shouldn’t tempt her, I can’t help but lean in so our faces are mere inches apart. The sound of our intermingled breathing fills the hallway as her hooded gaze meets mine.

It demands every scrap of willpower I have not to close the remaining distance between us. The next move is Marlow’s, and I focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest as I wait to see what she’ll do next. A surge of excitement runs through me when she wraps her arms around my neck and lifts on her toes to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

Her touch sparks an inferno of desire that I’ve attempted to restrain. In this moment, I’m defenseless to her allure as I capture her mouth with mine, eliciting a soft moan from her throat. Lost in the moment’s intensity, I entangle my fingers in her golden blonde hair, tugging her closer. She grips my shoulders in response, our bodies fused together.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined, sweetheart,” I groan into her mouth.

Our kiss is electric, igniting a fire inside me that has me craving more. Our chemistry is all-consuming, leaving her gasping for air. She tastes like strawberries, pink lemonade, and all things sweet, and I never want this to end.

When I break the kiss, Marlow looks up at me with a dazed look on her face.

“Marlow, I—”

She places her hand against her lips. “I’m sorry I kissed you,” she blurts out. “I’m not sure what came over me.”

I chuckle. “In case you didn’t notice, sunshine, I enjoyed it very much.”

She chews on her lower lip. “That doesn’t mean it was a good idea.” I’m flooded with disappointment at her words, and her eyes widen when she sees my dejected expression. “I don’t regret it if that’s what you’re thinking,” she rushes out.

“Neither do I.” My tone is resolute.

That was the single best kiss of my life, and I’d do it again… and again if she’d let me.

“It’s just that we both have a lot going on right now and the last thing I want to do is complicate things. You and Lola are both important to me, and I don’t want to do anything that could hurt you.” She fidgets with her hands as she glances at the floor. “I’m not even sure how much longer I’ll be in Aspen Grove.”

I blink back at her, unsure how to respond. How am I supposed to remain unfazed when the very idea of her leaving is enough to make my stomach churn?

Her concerns have merit. My life is centered around Lola and my career, leaving little space for a romantic relationship. And like she said, she doesn’t know how long she plans to stay in town. When she does leave, Lola will be crushed, and I’m not sure I can afford to introduce my complicated feelings into the equation. Although I’m beginning to think it’s too late for that.

I run my hand through my hair, perplexed by my reaction. Hell, I’m usually the sound of reason and ready to run in the other direction at any sign of commitment, but as of late, when Marlow is around, all common sense is thrown out the window. It’s like an invisible string draws me to her and it’s all I can do to keep myself from getting tangled up in her beautiful chaos.

“It’s late. I should probably get home,” she says abruptly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, okay.” I reluctantly let her go as she steps out of my embrace. I’m immediately left with a sense of longing to hold her again. “I’m going to keep Lola home from school tomorrow so you can take the day off. And don’t worry about downstairs. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? I promise I had every intention of cleaning up before you got back.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

I watch with disappointment as she slips into the bedroom to get Waffles, wishing more than anything she would stay.

A couple of months ago, I would have been bothered by the disarray left downstairs, but now that I know what it feels like to have Marlow wrapped in my arms—to kiss her—I’m not so bothered by the mess anymore.