The Single Dad's Second Chance

But more customers kept her busy in the front of the shop so that Holly was unable to continue her interrogation. And when Rachel left work at two o’clock, she was confident that she’d kept the truth about her feelings for Andrew Garrett to herself.

Chapter Three

Saturday afternoon, Andrew was in his home workshop assembling a sideboard when his middle brother stopped by.

Nathan walked around the piece, giving it a thorough examination. “Nice—but not your usual style.”

“It’s for Ed and Carol’s dining room.” The Wakefields were his in-laws—or maybe they were former in-laws. Andrew wasn’t sure if the death of his wife changed the relationship between himself and her parents. Either way, they were still his daughter’s grandparents.

“Don’t they know that you’re the VP of Product Research and Design for a multibillion-dollar furniture company now and not just a carpenter?”

“I’m still a carpenter,” Andrew insisted. “A fancy title doesn’t change that.”

“And a damn good one,” Nate agreed, continuing his inspection of the work. “Is this an original design?”

He nodded. “Ed wanted something special for Carol, for their fortieth anniversary.”

“When’s that?”

“Not until October. But I had the time now, so I figured I’d get started.”

“Mom and Dad’s fortieth is in May,” Nathan reminded him. “And Mom wants a party.”

“She always wants a party. Do you remember Maura’s first birthday? She invited sixty people.”

“It was a kick-ass first birthday,” his brother agreed.

“I can only imagine how many people she’ll invite to a fortieth wedding anniversary.”

“Apparently we’re supposed to do the inviting.”

“Huh?”

Nate nodded. “She said that proper etiquette requires the party be hosted by someone other than the anniversary couple. Preferably the couple’s children.”

“Not if she wants it done right,” Andrew noted.

“Daniel suggested we hire an event planner.”

“Not a bad idea,” he admitted. “And since it was his idea, he should look into that.”

Nate went to the mini-fridge and took out a couple of beers. He twisted the caps off both, then handed one to his brother. “Speaking of anniversaries—I stopped by last night.”

Andrew tipped the bottle to his lips. “So...today is the twenty-four-hour anniversary of your visit?”

“Okay, I guess that wasn’t a very good segue.”

“What are you trying to segue into?”

“Asking where you were last night.”

“Did we have plans that I forgot about?”

“No—but it was Valentine’s Day.”

Andrew slapped his hand to his forehead. “And I didn’t even get you a card.”

“You’re a funny guy,” Nate said, his tone devoid of amusement.

“Yes, it was Valentine’s Day,” he agreed. “And Maura was with the Wakefields and I was hungry, so I went to Valentino’s to grab a bite to eat. I ran into someone I know, so we had dinner together and then went bowling.”

“I assume this ‘someone’ you know is female?”

“Yes, she’s female. No, it wasn’t a date.”

“You’ve grieved long enough,” Nathan told him.

“I’m not still grieving,” Andrew told him. “Yeah, I still miss Nina sometimes—” which was a vast improvement over the “all the time” that he’d missed her and looked for her in the first year after her death. “But it’s not like I’ve put my life on hold.”

“It’s exactly like you’ve put your life on hold,” his brother countered. “Or is there another explanation for the fact that you haven’t had a relationship with anyone else since Nina died?”

“I’ve been on dates,” he protested, although they both knew that he’d only been out a handful of times since his wife’s death—the first being only about six months ago.

“A few first dates and not a single second date.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t met anyone that I wanted to go out with more than once.”

Even as Andrew said the words, a carousel of images played through his mind—and all of them were Rachel. Behind the counter of the flower shop, a small smile on her face as she wrapped a bouquet; in the kitchen at Valentino’s, a hint of sadness clouding her gorgeous blue eyes when she mentioned her dating hiatus; at the bowling alley, a brilliant smile illuminating her face after she’d knocked down her first pins; outside her apartment building at the end of the night, her eyes soft and warm, as her lips touched his cheek.

“What about Bridget?”

He pushed the memories of Rachel to the back of his mind. “Bridget was serious stalker material.”

“What did she do—call you the day after your date?”

“She called. She texted. She emailed. And then she showed up at the house—and I never told her where I lived.”

“Okay, that’s a little obsessive,” Nathan allowed.

“And when I made the mistake of inviting her to come inside for a drink—because I didn’t know how else to respond to her presence on my doorstep—she immediately started making decorating suggestions.”

“Well, she is an interior designer.”

“Who walked through the house until she found my bedroom and then told me the feng shui wasn’t conducive to getting naked and sweaty.”

Nate winced. “Okay—forget Bridget. Tell me about this girl you went bowling with last night—how did you meet her?”

“She works at a flower shop downtown.”