Resisting The Single Dad

She frowned as she sat up. ‘But those aren’t baseball boots.’

Rory smiled as he picked up his toast. ‘Yeah. I put on my runners today. I decided I might need to be real quick.’

Gene poured some of the coffee into the mugs on the table. ‘Why would you need to be quick, Rory?’

Rory bit his toast and chewed for a few seconds before he answered in a whisper. ‘Because there might be...girls.’

Cordelia choked at the other side of the table, putting her hand over her mouth, her cheeks getting pinker and pinker. Gene watched in amusement. ‘Okay?’

She nodded and jumped up, grabbing a glass for some water. ‘Yes. Sorry.’ She smiled as she looked back at Rory. ‘I just wasn’t expecting that one.’

Gene leaned forward on the table, looking between his son and Cordelia. He ruffled Rory’s hair again. ‘Dad,’ said Rory, trying to shake him off, ‘stop that.’

Gene pulled his hand back and shrugged at Cordelia. ‘Apparently, it doesn’t matter what nursery or day care Rory goes to—his blond hair makes all the girls say he is cute.’

‘I’m not cute. I’m four,’ said Rory quickly.

Cordelia grinned as she sat down again. ‘I think four is kind of cute.’

Rory rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, not you too.’

Gene pulled a face at her and bent down to whisper in Rory’s ear. ‘Watch out, Rory. She might be like those other girls. She might want to kiss you.’

Rory gave a shudder and Cordelia laughed out loud. It was almost as if he could see the knot in her shoulders start to loosen.

They finished breakfast quickly and Gene scribbled a list for the housekeeper. ‘Remember red apples, Dad. And ’nanas.’ Gene added bananas to the list as Rory stuck his arms into his jacket. He was proud at how articulate his little boy was, but there were still some words that seemed like tongue-twisters to a four-year-old.

He swung Rory up into his arms. ‘Ready?’

Rory held up his fist and Gene bumped his against it. It was their move. Their superhero move.

Cordelia’s brow was wrinkled as she watched them. She had kind of a bewildered smile on her face as she stood next to the alarm, ready to punch in the code. ‘Let’s go then, guys.’

* * *

For the last week she’d breakfasted with Franc. It had been a much more genteel and sedate experience. This morning had been entirely different.

And it made her feel...odd.

She was getting to the stage in life where most of her friends had kids. Those who knew her best had enough awareness to realise that she occasionally found things tough. It wasn’t that she completely avoided kids. Of course she couldn’t. She just didn’t generally have them under her nose.

So this was different.

And even though part of her stomach twisted and turned, it was also nice. And that was unexpected.

This morning’s breakfast had been noisy, chaotic and maybe even a little fun.

They travelled the distance to the institute easily. It was close enough to the city centre for public transport but far enough away to be spacious and have adequate parking.

The institute employed more than three hundred staff. Physicians, nurses, researchers and admin staff. There was also a small day-care centre, which she prayed that Franc had remembered to book Rory into.

Helene, the woman in charge, gave the briefest of pauses when they entered, before putting a beaming smile on her face. ‘Ah, yes. Professor Helier mentioned that we might be getting a new recruit.’ She gave Gene a questioning smile. ‘I think he said for a month?’

Gene nodded. ‘Yes, my contract is just for a month.’

It was odd. Cordelia could tell he was a little nervous—but Rory clearly wasn’t. He might say he didn’t want to play with girls, but he wandered off straight away to go and join a group of kids. Helene walked quickly over to a desk and pulled out some paperwork and a pager. Gene smiled as he took it. ‘Haven’t had one of these since I was a hospital physician.’

Helene gave him a nod. ‘It’s just for the first few days. It means I can get hold of you quickly if Rory doesn’t settle.’ She ran through the paperwork, requesting medical history, allergies, immunisations and any special requirements. Rory was already babbling away in French to his counterparts. The kids in Switzerland spoke a whole variety of languages. It was fortunate that Rory had already spent some time in France.

Cordelia put her hand on Gene’s shoulder. ‘You okay?’

His eyes were fixed on Rory. He gave a nervous laugh as his dark brown eyes met hers. ‘Sure I am. The little guy never seems to have any problems fitting in. I just worry.’

Cordelia was curious. ‘Rory never stays with his mum?’

The look he gave her made her want to pull back the inquisitive words. What was it with her and this guy? He bit his bottom lip and put his head down, completing the paperwork, checking his pager was working and finishing with Helene.

Her skin prickled at the awkwardness of it all. He was new. They had visiting fellows at the Rueben Institute all the time. The institute was renowned. Their last Professor had won a special prize for his research. They had many joint projects with university hospitals across the globe. People wanted to work here. She counted herself lucky that she’d managed to secure a permanent position. If Gene Du Bois was going to be here for a month he’d have to lose a little of his prickliness.

She walked him out across the granite-floored, glass-fronted foyer. Above them was a glass atrium, showing the four floors of the institute.

She ignored the earlier hiccup and held out her hands. ‘Okay, Dr Du Bois, welcome to the Rueben Institute. Now that Rory is settled, let me show you around.’

* * *

Darn it. For some reason his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth and he’d been unable to answer her question. Last time he’d been tongue-tied he’d been around fourteen. This was ridiculous.

But what was even more ridiculous was the thought that had shot into his head when she’d asked about Rory’s mother.

He literally had the story off pat. He’d been asked on numerous occasions where Rory’s mom was. It was a sad story. But lots of kids all over the world had only one parent. It wasn’t the biggest deal in the world.

But this time, when he’d been asked, he’d just frozen. Maybe it was those green eyes. Maybe it was the shiny brown hair and the way it looked so good with her red dress. Maybe it was those darned curves in that red dress that seemed to make a swishy kind of noise every time she took a step—daring him to look at the swing of her hips.

Or maybe it was the tiny freckles running across the bridge of her nose.

Whatever it was, it was something.

He was tired. That was all. Probably jet-lagged too. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to start straight away. Perhaps he should have given them a few days to settle in. But, then again, Rory looked like he’d settled already. And Gene couldn’t help but be proud of the way his son had naturally babbled away in French to the other kids.

He pulled his eyes away from the swinging hips in front of him and looked up at the impressive foyer. He’d seen pictures of the institute before. But he hadn’t really expected this.

Cordelia had walked over to the back of the institute—or what should be the back wall of the institute. Instead of brick, there was a wall entirely of glass, letting the bright morning light stream in and giving a picture-perfect view of the Alps in the distance. It was like capturing a holiday snap. Or picking up a picture postcard.

The view was breathtaking. And unexpected. She gave him a nod as she stood alongside him. She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Whenever I get exasperated at work, or fed up, I always like to remember how lucky I am to work here.’

He stood for a few minutes, his eyes scanning the horizon. It was like taking a chill pill. He’d been on edge, agitated about the arrangements and worried about how they might affect Rory. But standing here, watching this, it was almost as if someone had just put his head on a lavender pillow and told him to relax and calm down.

He’d wanted to come here. He’d wanted to work with Professor Helier. And even if Professor Helier wasn’t here, the rest of his team was.