Picket Fence Surprise. Kris FletcherЧитать онлайн книгу.
much time for anything, let alone having time with a kid.”
“I know.”
It was the way she watched Millie that caught him in the gut. Like she didn’t dare miss one action or one giggle, in case she might never get the chance again.
“What about getting a new job?”
This time when she laughed, it was like he’d said the silliest thing she’d ever heard.
“Right. Because Comeback Cove is overflowing with jobs.”
He bit his tongue to keep from reminding her that there were a lot more options for her than there were for someone who had, oh, a criminal record to add to the list of references.
No regrets, Xander.
Instead, he waved a hand toward the river and said, “I hear the town is looking for someone to help sell all this.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re creating a new position. Tourism director, or something like that. There was an article about it in the Comeback Cove Chronicle last week.”
She did a double take. “You read the Chronicle? I thought their only subscribers were the people who work at town hall. And maybe the folks who advertise in it.”
“Of course I do. I’m a concerned, involved citizen.” Who also happened to be trolling the community calendar for events where he might meet someone looking for a guy with an adorable daughter, a steady job and a slightly checkered past.
“You’re about twelve steps ahead of me, then. But...tourism? It’s a nice thought, but I don’t have any experience in that.”
He raised the camera to his eye and focused in on Cady, now spinning in circles with Millie. “You’re in marketing.”
“Sure, but—”
“Would it cost you anything to apply?”
“No.”
“If you got it, would it make things easier for you to have more time with Millie?”
This time, her silence went on long enough that he had to check to be sure she was still sitting in place.
“Yo, Earth to Heather.”
“Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I’ve heard that can be dangerous.”
She shook her head, seeming to cast off some spell that had gripped her. “What does that mean?”
“It means that there’s a time to think and a time to do. Take a chance. Go with your gut.”
Her head swiveled. Her gaze locked on Millie.
“My gut is the last thing I need to listen to.”
He had never understood people who didn’t trust their own instincts. How was a person supposed to navigate all the noise of the world without having some core sense of what to do and where to go?
Though on the other hand, refusing to listen to your gut was probably a lot safer than his specialty of acknowledging and then ignoring the truth he didn’t want to see.
“But,” she continued, “there is a certain logic to the thought.”
Ah, now they were getting somewhere.
“I doubt I could even get an interview, but you’re right. It would give me a deadline to update my résumé and get into job-changing mode. If nothing else, getting an offer from someplace else might give me some negotiating power. Shift my hours, arrange to work from home part of the time...something that could make things more possible.”
She turned a sunny smile in his direction, one that had his own gut suddenly tightening.
“Thanks, Xander. You’ve been a huge help.”
No problem. My pleasure. The smart and sensible response was clear in his head.
So why did he open his mouth to say, “You know, I’ve sat in on a good number of classes on résumé writing over the years.” Most recently as a guest—ahem—of the Province, but knowledge was knowledge, right? “If you’d like me to have a look at yours, just say the word.”
“Seriously?”
Xander, you idiot. What if she’s wearing those shorts again? “Anytime.”
“Thank you. I haven’t had to do this kind of thing in years. I just might...” She shrugged, not dismissively, but almost as if she were hugging herself. “I owe you.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for.” He pushed to his feet, stifling a groan as he straightened. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so smug about her choosing to sit instead of squat.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I’m going to stay here for a minute.” She nodded toward the house. “Watch the show for a bit.”
He followed her gaze and saw Millie doing an admirable imitation of a horse, galloping in circles around Cady. A soft neigh carried across the grass.
“Okay then. Let me know if I can help, and I’ll see you around.”
With that, he set off across the lawn, doing his best to stay focused on the crowd in front of him rather than the woman behind him. Forward. Onward. No regrets.
He managed to face away from her until he hit the deck, where Millie ceased her prancing long enough to pull up in front of him.
“Whoa,” she said to the air, then looked to him. “Hi, Mr. Sorenson. What’s my mom doing?”
He had to look back at her then, didn’t he?
Heather no longer sat cross-legged and contemplative on the grass. Instead, she was kneeling, hands moving on the ground.
Moving...a pile of sticks?
“Millie,” he said, resting his hand on her curls, “I can’t be certain, but I think your mom is giving hope to a weed.”
THE NEXT NIGHT, over on the other side of town, Xander buckled Cady into her high chair, set a sippy cup of milk on the tray and took a neat step out of the line of fire before his darling child could spray him.
“Drink, pretty girl. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Cady banged the cup on the tray. “Cookie, Daddy? Pease?”
“After you eat your real food.” In short order, he had a bite-size smorgasbord in front of her—pasta, peas, bites of cheese and chicken. Cady scowled at the assortment.
“Want cookie.”
“Cheese.” He snagged a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Chow down.”
As he’d expected, Cady frowned but obediently chewed before picking up a bite of pasta.
Confident that the meal was under way, Xander grabbed his bowl of beans and followed suit. He used to wait until Cady was done before he attempted to eat, but then she would need a bath. Or she’d pull something over. Or decide there were too many tissues in the box, and it was her God-given duty to empty it. He would race after her and food would be forgotten, and he would fall into bed at night and realize all he’d had since breakfast was a cup of coffee and a handful of Cheerios. Nothing that he couldn’t endure for a day, but definitely not a habit he wanted to build for a lifetime.
So he and Cady ate together now. Not that she was thrilled about staying in her chair until he’d had a chance to catch his breath and unwind a little, but c’est la vie.
And even if she shrieked, and he had to shovel his food in while praying the neighbors didn’t turn him