If You Give a Single Dad a Nanny: Chapter 15

LOLA ISN’T THE ONLY ONE I missed while I was gone.

After days of Dylan dominating my thoughts while he was away, his confession invaded my consciousness, and caused me to momentarily lose all rational thought. As he leaned in, I felt the gentle whisper of his breath on my skin. The temptation to finally know what it felt like to kiss him was too strong to resist, and I closed the remaining distance between us.

When our mouths met, it sparked a wildfire of affection that I never wanted to end.

I got lost in the moment, but when Dylan pulled back, I panicked. It doesn’t matter that he assured me he enjoyed kissing me. The very idea that he could reject me had me scrambling to find an excuse as to why it was a mistake.

For me, the fear of rejection is more distressing than the act of being rejected. Despite being illogical, the relentless reminders that I was inadequate when I was a kid linger in my subconscious. I’ve become an expert at avoiding scenarios where I could potentially face denial.

So naturally, I hightailed it out of Dylan’s, like I did the night outside of Willow Creek Café. It’s safe to say avoiding uncomfortable situations is my specialty.

Like the time I lived in Mesa, Arizona. I naively agreed to go on a date with my landlord, Stewart. To call it a disaster is an understatement. He droned on about his mother for a solid hour and picked at his teeth throughout the duration of our meal. As if things couldn’t get worse, when the check arrived, he asked me to cover it since he left his wallet at home.

When I declined a second date, he sobbed and begged me to tell him what he did wrong. A pipe burst in my kitchen the week after, and I paid the repair costs myself so I could avoid another awkward encounter with him. Thankfully I had a lease with no fixed term and moved out the next month.

Dylan might not be losing his hair or have an obsession with his mom, but that doesn’t make our situation any less awkward. If it weren’t for Waffles and Lola, I’d probably be preparing to move somewhere warm year-round, and that doesn’t include living next door to a hot single dad who I can’t stop thinking about.

After getting home last night, I went straight to bed and slept for twelve hours. I hadn’t realized how emotionally taxing taking care of a sick child could be, and I’m relieved that Dylan is back home with Lola. Watching her cry, unable to alleviate her pain, was heart-wrenching. A weight was lifted off my shoulders when her fever finally broke.

I want to check on her more than anything, but I don’t want to interrupt her day with Dylan. And I remind myself that I’m avoiding him at the moment.

I’m feeling sluggish, so I’m curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee and my favorite cable-knit blanket.

I decide to call Quinn. We’ve texted a few times, but it’s been a few days since we spoke on the phone.

“Hey, stranger,” she answers in a singsong voice. “I was about to call in the search party. Is everything okay? How’s Lola doing?”

“Thankfully, her fever broke last night, so I’m hoping she’s back to her normal self soon. Dylan took the day off, so I haven’t seen her today.”

I texted Quinn while Lola and I were in the waiting room at the doctor’s office yesterday. She didn’t know until then that I’d been watching Lola while Dylan was out of town since she’s been in Florida.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” she says.

“How’s everything going at the shop since you’ve been gone?”

I offered to take care of things at Brush & Palette while she’s been visiting her grandmother, but she rightly pointed out that I have too much on my plate as it is. She’s not wrong. I have a habit of spreading myself too thin, especially when it comes to helping people I care about.

“Martha’s done a fantastic job managing the shop. She’s also kept me in the loop on all the town gossip.”

I don’t like where she’s going with this.

“According to her, Mr. Hot Single Dad got territorial when he saw you with Eric Schultz at the speed dating event last week.” She lets out an excited squeal. “If I had known you were into that kind of thing, I would have invited you to the last one.”

“I’m not.” I let out a groan of embarrassment. “Dylan’s mom convinced us both to go but conveniently left out that there would be speed dating. She got it in her head that Dylan and I should go together and decided to play matchmaker for two rather unenthusiastic participants.”

At least we used to be unenthusiastic.

“You heard about what Johanna did to her daughter Presley and her boyfriend, Jack, right?” Quinn asks.

“No, what happened?” I saw them both when Johanna invited me over for Christmas Eve, but we didn’t get to talk much.

“Presley was Jack’s assistant for three years before they got together. The Christmas before last, he invited himself home with her for the holidays, and they pretended to be a couple when they got to Aspen Grove. And guess what?” She pauses for effect. “It turns out Johanna knew who Jack was the entire time but pretended she didn’t, and she insisted Jack and Presley share a bedroom while they were in town. Now they’re madly in love and living together in New York City.”

Johanna’s unconditional love for her kids is touching. She’s willing to go to great lengths to ensure their happiness, regardless of their stand on her methods. While her interference can be frustrating, I also find it endearing. It’s a refreshing take, given that my mom has never cared enough to be that involved in my life.

“I’m so glad things worked out for Presley and Jack, but my situation with Dylan is totally different.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Marlow, but I think Johanna might be onto something,” Quinn chirps.

“What now?”

“It makes perfect sense if you think about it,” she starts passionately. “Dylan’s whole life revolves around Lola, and she’s completely smitten with you. Add to that the fact Waffles is infatuated with Lola, and you have one big happy family. You might as well explore your feelings.”

She’s far too happy about this for my liking. “Slow down, turbo. You’re worse than Johanna.” I rub my temples to ward off an oncoming headache. “You’re forgetting one very important detail.”

“What’s that?”

“Dylan and I can’t go more than five minutes of being in the same room without arguing.”

“It’s called playful banter,” Quinn corrects me. “Which everybody knows is just another form of flirting.”

If that were the case, then Dylan and I flirt a lot. We’re constantly taunting each other and exchanging playful jabs, which I’ve grown to look forward to.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Quinn observes. “Anything you want to share?”

“I’m going to tell you something and you can’t freak out, okay?

“Get on with it,” she encourages.

“Dylan might have almost kissed me outside of Willow Creek Café last week and—” I pause when Quinn screeches on the other end of the line.

“Are you serious? Oh my gosh, why didn’t you say so sooner? Wait, there’s more, isn’t there?” I have to move the phone away from my ear while she lets out another squeal. “Marlow Taylor, you better tell me this instant.”

I roll my eyes at her theatrics. I forgot that she’s the hopeless romantic in our friend group.

“We kissed after he got home last night,” I confess.

I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, but she would have kept prying until I did. Besides, it’s a relief not to have to keep it bottled up any longer.

“Andi is totally going to flip when she hears about this,” Quinn exclaims. “Tell me everything this instant.”

“Will you please calm down? There’s not much to tell.” Okay, that’s a total lie. “Lola and I took a nap after we got back from the doctor’s office, and I didn’t answer the phone when Dylan tried calling me back. When I woke up, he was back, and was unexpectedly understanding about the whole thing. He said that Lola was fortunate to have me, and one thing led to another and we kissed.”

“And?” Quinn asks impatiently.

“And I went home.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” She doesn’t sound pleased with my anticlimactic story. “Marlow, that cannot be the end of the story.”

I leave out the part that I’m the one who initiated the kiss. I’m not ready to answer another round of her rapid-fire questions if I do.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” I chuckle. “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea for Dylan and me to get any more involved than we already are. His focus should be on Lola, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in Aspen Grove. Clearly, neither of us are ready for a serious commitment right now.” My throat is scratchy, so I take a long sip of coffee.

“Forget about serious,” Quinn shrieks. “What’s wrong with sleeping with the man a few times until he’s out of your system?”

I nearly choke on my coffee, taken aback by her bluntness.

“Didn’t you just tell me we should make it official and be, and I quote, one big happy family?” I use air quotes for emphasis even though she’s not here to see.

“Come on, Marlow. When was the last time you got laid? You’ve lived in Aspen Grove for over a year, and I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

“I’ve been focusing on my art,” I say defensively.

“What better way to release those creative juices than with dirty, sweaty sex with a gorgeous single man.”

“Please don’t say sex and juices in the same sentence.” My face betrays my inward cringe. “And that’s why I have three battery-operated devices in my nightstand,” I tease.

Before moving to Aspen Grove, I only engaged in casual flings since I never stayed in the same place for too long. Since living here, I haven’t been with anyone romantically. My focus has been on my art, spending quality time with Waffles and my friends, and more recently my responsibilities as Lola’s nanny.

“You wouldn’t need those battery-operated devices if you hooked up with the hot, single dad next door instead of running out of there like your hair was on fire.”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m cutting off your phone privileges,” I say with a small smile. “We’ll talk more when you get back.”

“You can count on it,” she vows.

I’m not sure if it was from all of Quinn’s high-pitched excitement, but my headache is now a migraine. Once she hangs up, I get up from the couch and go up to my bedroom. I’ll take a quick nap before I start on my next painting and when I wake up, I’ll feel as good as new.