Irresistible: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Cloverleigh Farms Series Book 1)

I was holding my breath.

I wasn’t even sure why, but it was something about the way Mack was looking at me. And the tension in his body—the taut muscles in his neck. The grip of his fingers on the edge of the counter. The set of his jaw. It gave the impression of restraint. Like he was holding himself back.

Something unfamiliar hummed in the air between us. I could feel it—he wanted me the way I wanted him.

No wonder I couldn’t breathe.

Then he cleared his throat and turned away from me, cutting off the current. “Sure. Everybody needs to make mistakes now and then.”

I’d forgotten I’d even asked the question.

He turned the sink on, rinsed his dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher. I stood there staring at his muscular back, at the width of his shoulders, at the snug fit of his jeans on his butt. If I were his and he was mine, I’d go over and wrap my arms around his waist, press my cheek to his back. Then he’d turn around, winding his arms around me. He’d lower his lips to mine, and—

“I should get you home,” he said, interrupting my fantasy. “Want to grab your coat?”

“Sure.” But I didn’t really want to leave. I wanted to stay in this warm, chaotic house with him and the girls. Pretend I belonged here. Pretend I belonged to him.

“Want me to put the chili in the fridge?” I asked.

“I can do it when I get back.”

“Okay. I’ll say goodnight to the girls.”

“Actually, they should probably come with us. It’s late.” He went over to the back door and pulled on his boots, leaving them unlaced. “Can you tell them to put on their stuff? I’ll warm up the car.”

“Yes.” I went into the front room and rounded up the kids, and we were zipping up our coats when Mack came in the back door again, a frown on his face. “Of course, my fucking car won’t start.”

One of the girls clucked her tongue. “That’s a dollar, Daddy.”

He glared at them. “I should get a freebie for car trouble.”

“Is it the battery?” I asked, pausing with one glove on.

“Maybe. But the way it’s parked in the garage, we wouldn’t even be able to get your car close enough to jump it.”

“What about using my car to drive me home? You can drop me off and borrow it for tomorrow. Or for as long as you need. I can always use my mom’s SUV if I need to go somewhere.”

His brow furrowed. “I could try, but your car is pretty well buried. Might take me a while to dig it out. Was it okay on the roads earlier? The streets haven’t even been plowed here yet.”

“It wasn’t awesome,” I admitted. My Beetle was adorable and fun in the summer, but every winter I regretted not choosing something bigger and better in the snow.

Mack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Snowflakes were melting on his shoulders, scarf, and hair—he’d gone out without his hat. The tips of his ears were red from the cold.

As we were standing there, the phone rang, and Millie whooped. “Snow day! Please, please, please!”

Felicity made it to the phone first and picked it up. “Hello?” Then she nodded excitedly and did a little dance. “Snow day tomorrow! No school!”

While the girls cheered, Mack looked at me over their heads, his expression grim. “I need a beer.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t blame you.”

“Dad, can Frannie spend the night?” Millie asked.

“She can sleep in my room!” shouted Winnie, clapping her hands.

“She doesn’t want to sleep with you,” said Millie. “You wet the bed.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Dad, Millie said I wet the bed and I don’t anymore!”

“Enough!” Mack put out his hands. “I need to think.”

“But can she sleep over, Daddy? Please?” Felicity clasped her hands beneath her chin.

He looked at me. “I hate to say it, but I think you might be stranded at the zoo for the night.”

“I don’t mind. I just need to call my mom and let her know.” I rolled my eyes, thinking that at twenty-seven, it shouldn’t have been necessary and probably made me sound even more like a child. “Otherwise she’ll freak out.”

“I get it,” he said.

“Yay! Then we can bake something in the morning for breakfast. Frannie knows how to make gluten-free monkey bread!” Millie danced around the island.

He unwound his scarf. “Well, I guess that settles it. I can’t turn down monkey bread.”

My heart was thumping hard as the girls crowded around me. Which was silly—I wasn’t staying because he wanted me to. I was stuck here.

Still. We were going to sleep under the same roof. It gave me a thrill I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Was that pathetic?

I removed my coat and boots and took my phone out of my purse to text my mom.

Going to stay at Mack’s house. His car won’t start and mine is buried on the street.

She called me immediately, and I imagined she’d been waiting nervously with her phone in her hand. Gritting my teeth, I answered it.

“Hello?” I moved into the dining room, where it was less noisy.

“Do you want Daddy and I to come get you?” she asked right away.

“No, that’s okay.” I glanced up and saw Mack pull a beer from the fridge, then hold it up as if to say, You want one? I nodded. “I’m fine here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The girls are all excited about baking something in the morning. And I don’t want Daddy out driving tonight. The roads are terrible and you know how bad his eyes are in the dark.”

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“I’ll text you in the morning. The kids don’t have school, so Mack and I will probably bring them over to Cloverleigh.” Mack and I. That was fun to say. “We might be a little late, though.”

“That’s all right. Just be safe.”

“We will.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

“’Night.”

I wandered back into the kitchen, where the girls were putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave. After I tucked my phone into my bag, Mack handed me a beer. I took it, and he clinked his against mine. “Cheers.”

“I told my mom we might get to work a little late tomorrow. At least we can sleep in.” As soon as I said it, I was embarrassed because it sounded kind of like I thought we’d be sleeping in together.

“Ha,” he said with a grin. “I can tell you don’t live with kids. I don’t even remember what sleeping in feels like.”

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Felicity asked.

He took a pull on his beer. “What movie?”

“Hotel Transylvania!”

Millie groaned. “No. We always have to watch that. It’s not her turn to pick.”

“Whose turn is it?” he asked.

“It’s Winifred’s, I think,” Millie answered, “but since we have a guest, maybe we should let her pick it.”

They all looked at me. “Oh!” I bit my lip. “Uhhh, what about something classic like The Wizard of Oz?”

“Winnie’s scared of the wicked witch,” Felicity said with a snicker.

“I don’t like her,” Winnie confirmed dolefully. “That witch is mean.”

“Well, what if I sit right next to you the whole time?” I suggested. “You can close your eyes during the scary parts.”

She beamed. “Okay.”

With that settled, the girls dumped popcorn into bowls and poured themselves some lemonade. Mack went into the living room to see if he could find the movie on demand, and I put the leftover chili into a large plastic container and stuck it in the fridge.

“Found it!” he called a moment later.

The girls all shouted with excitement, and we carried the snacks into the living room. Right away, Winnie hopped up on one end of the L-shaped sectional couch. “Sit here,” she directed, patting the cushion next to her.

I did as she asked, briefly wondering where Mack would end up and if it was too much to hope for that he might sit next to me. Turns out he had no choice, because Millie stretched out on the floor with a big pillow and Felicity lay down along the shorter section of the couch. That left only one place open, right next to me.

He glanced at it as the opening credits to the movie began. “Girls,” he said, “I’ll be right back. I just want to check on Mrs. Gardner, okay?”

“Okay,” they chimed.

“Hey Dad, turn off the lights when you leave!” Millie called, making herself more comfy on the floor.

He saluted her, switched off both living room lamps, and headed for the kitchen. From my spot on the couch, I watched him set his beer on the island and step into the back hall.

He was gone for about ten minutes, and when he came back, he was carrying a plate covered with foil. After taking off his winter stuff, he picked up his beer and brought the plate into the living room. “Anyone want a brownie?”

“Oooh,” said Felicity. “Me!”

“And me,” said Millie, popping to her feet. “Although they’re not as fancy as macarons.”

“Delicious doesn’t have to be fancy,” I assured her. “Is she okay over there?”

Mack nodded and set the plate on the end table next to Winnie. “Yeah. I checked her furnace and it’s working fine.”

Then he dropped onto the cushion adjacent to mine, and I thought I might die.

But I played it cool. “That’s good. This would be a terrible night to be without heat. It’s freezing.”

“Are you cold? Here.” Reaching behind me, he took a thick, crocheted blanket off the back of the couch and set it in my lap.

I wasn’t that cold—actually my body was heating up with him so close—but I couldn’t resist the idea of sitting beneath a blanket with him in the dark. “Thanks. Here, I’ll share.” Unfolding the heavy knit throw, I spread one end over Winnie’s folded legs and gently tossed the other onto Mack’s lap.

“Hey, I want a blanket,” Felicity whined.

“Me too,” said Millie.

Mack grumbled but set down his beer and got up again. He disappeared up the stairs and came down a moment later with two fleece blankets. After dropping one onto Millie, he shook out the other and draped it over Felicity. “Anything else while I’m up?”

“Shhhh,” Millie admonished.

Mack nudged her ribs with his foot before taking his seat next to me once more, and if I wasn’t crazy, it felt like he sat a little closer this time. I could totally feel the length of his thigh alongside mine beneath the blanket.

We watched the movie and sipped our beers while the kids munched popcorn and slurped lemonade. At one point, Millie wanted more snacks, Felicity needed a bathroom break, and Winnie wanted a stuffed animal, so we hit pause. All three girls got up and took off in various directions, leaving Mack and me alone in the dim living room.

“Another beer?” he asked, rising to his feet.

I hesitated. I was kind of a lightweight, and I didn’t want to get goofy. I wanted him to see me as an adult and not a kid, so getting tipsy wouldn’t help. That said, I was so aware of his body next to mine that I was having trouble relaxing. One more beer couldn’t hurt. “Okay.”

“Good. I thought you were going to be all responsible and say no and I was going to feel shitty for being a bad influence.”

I smiled up at him. “You’re not a bad influence.”

“We’ll see.” He looked toward the kitchen, where someone had turned on the light and an argument had begun over how much time the popcorn needed. “Oh, Jesus. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, I grabbed my purse and darted upstairs to use the bathroom, blinking at the bright light. In the mirror over the sink, I checked my reflection, trying to imagine what he saw when he looked at me. A kid? A co-worker? An employee? How could I get him to see me differently?

Give it up, I told my reflection. Then I dug my birth control pills out of my purse and took one for today, turned off the light and returned to the living room, where Mack was already sitting on the couch. The girls were still making a racket in the kitchen.

“Here you go,” he said, handing me another beer.

“Thanks.” I took the bottle and settled onto the couch again, sitting with my legs criss-crossed beneath the blanket this time. I hadn’t done it on purpose, not exactly, but my left knee now rested on his right thigh, and he didn’t move away. My pulse picked up.

Mack’s eyes were on the kitchen as he tipped up his beer. “Sometimes I can’t believe I haven’t totally fucked this dad thing up yet.”

“Are you kidding? You’re a great dad.”

He took another sip. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m doing right by them. Sometimes I’m convinced that I’m doing irreparable harm. Most days, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

The confession touched me, and his insecurity squeezed my heart. I put a hand on his arm. “Does anyone? I mean, I know you’ve got a lot more to worry about than I do, a lot more responsibility, but I think the same thing sometimes.”

“You do?” He looked at me in surprise.

“Absolutely. I look at my sisters or other people my age and think, what the hell am I doing still living on the family farm with my parents? Why don’t I have more ambition? What’s wrong with me that I’m not out there in the world being a badass?”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to be a badass. You don’t need to be anything other than what you are. And frankly, the world could use more people like you.”

“What am I like?” I asked, surprised and flattered by his words.

“Sweet. Genuine. Kind.”

I stared at the label on the beer bottle. Those were all nice things, and I was glad he thought them of me, but none of them were very exciting or sexy. “Thanks.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

Embarrassed, I laughed a little. “No. I just sometimes wish I wasn’t so … scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“Lots of things.” I took a drink. “But lately I’ve been worried about life passing me by.”

“What do you mean? You’re so young.”

“But I never take any risks. Never take any chances. I think about the fact that there was a decent chance I wouldn’t even survive childhood, and here I am. So what am I going to do to prove I’m worthy? To make sure I live life to the fullest?”

Mack was silent for a minute. Sipped his beer. “What would that look like for you? To live life to the fullest? What chances would you take?”

I took a breath and was about to answer when the light in the kitchen went out and the girls trooped back into the living room.

“We’re ready,” Felicity said, hopping back on the couch with her bowl, spilling popcorn onto the cushions and floor.

Mack groaned. “Felicity, look what you’re doing.”

“Sorry,” she said, picking up the pieces and putting them back in her bowl.

“Don’t eat the ones from the floor.” He got up and took care of the pieces on the carpet, taking them to the kitchen to throw away while Winifred and Millie settled in again and someone hit play on the movie.

I had to laugh a little, imagining that this was probably what a typical Saturday night looked like around here—a movie, some blankets, some popcorn and lemonade. A little bickering, a little mess here and there, a couple beers for Mack after a long week of being CFO and Daddy. It seemed cozy and comforting to me, but that was from the outside. Was he happy? I wondered, maybe for the first time. I spent tons of time fantasizing about him, but I really didn’t know him, not intimately.

Was he lonely? Did he feel like he was living his life to the fullest, or was that some stupid idea that only someone in my situation worried about? After all, what choice did he have? His children were entirely dependent on him for everything from where they slept to what they wore to what they ate to how they felt about themselves. He was 100 percent responsible for their physical and emotional health. He didn’t have the luxury of wondering, Gee, am I living my best life?

I felt silly for saying something so frivolous to him while at the same time admiring his devotion to his children. By his own admission, he wasn’t perfect, but he was here, he was trying, and he loved them with his whole heart.

It was inspiring. It was humbling. It was hot.

Even his dirty mouth. For a moment, I wondered just how dirty it got, and felt my face get warm.

When he came back from the kitchen and sat next to me again, I moved my leg to give him more room. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m taking up too much space.”

“You’re fine.” Then, to my complete shock, he put his hand on my leg and nudged it back where it had been, resting against his. And left it there.

It was on top of the blanket, and it’s not like he was intimately caressing my inner thigh or anything, but still. Still. My heart thundered. My breath caught. My skin hummed.

That’s when I felt his thumb slowly start to move back and forth just above my knee.