Page 16 of The Rules of Dating

“My apartment is right over there. Let me help you clean up.”

Feeling a bit frazzled, I nodded as he took my arm and led me down the hall. I had a first-aid kit down at the shop, but I guess I was curious about his apartment. Well, that’s what I told myself. Curious about the apartment.

Colby’s apartment looked surprisingly neat for someone who had a kid. Were it not for the plastic cup on the counter featuring Elsa from Frozen, I would have never known a child lived here. Brown leather furniture and sleek, modern décor made it look more like a bachelor pad, fit for the wild bachelor I was sure Colby used to be.

I looked around. “Nice place.”

“Well, the cleaning lady came this morning. Otherwise, you would’ve been greeted by an explosion of Lalaloopsy dolls in every corner of the room. So, things are deceiving today.”

“Lalaloopsy… Are those the freaky-looking dolls with the button eyes?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you know them.”

“I had to tattoo one on someone once. And my friend’s daughter collects them.”

“I should introduce her to Saylor.” He laughed.

“Where is Saylor?”

“Preschool,” he answered as he rummaged through some cabinets. “She goes to a full-day program. I have a nanny who watches her after while I’m at work, but two days a week I come home early so I can be here when she gets home. I just work the remainder of the day from here on days like today.”

Such a good dad. “Oh, that’s cool.” I sighed, limping with my broken shoe over to the open kitchen area. “It must be tough juggling it all, huh?”

“Yeah. But it’s worth it.” He smiled as he lifted a plastic container out of one of the cabinets and shook it. “Bingo! Found the first-aid kit.”

He carried it over to where I was sitting on the stool. He sat down next to me and inched closer. His spicy cologne drifted toward me, and my body was all too aware of his proximity as he opened a bottle of peroxide, dabbing it onto a cotton ball before he began gently cleaning my knee.

“I’m really sorry you fell,” he said in a low voice.

“No worries. I’m sorry I yelled.”

“You had every right to. And I’ll make sure to get that ass crack in the floor repaired. I’ll reimburse you for your shoes, too. Although, I’m pretty happy for the excuse to spend a little time with you, even if it’s under the wrong circumstances.” He smiled. “Because, you know, someone didn’t want to go out with me. So this is the next best thing.”

“You can always come to the shop to say hello. I don’t need to be injured so you can see me.”

He looked up briefly. “Well, I don’t want to disturb you when you’re working.” Then…he blew on my knee.

Oh. His hot breath against my skin felt like it permeated my entire body. Damn. Who knew a guy blowing on my knee could turn me on? I wonder if that’s a thing, if they have porn for that. Erotic skin-blowing. I swore I felt it in my damn vagina. I needed to get laid. Just not by Colby. Nope. I couldn’t fall for this amazingly gorgeous man in front of me who, based on his actions right now, clearly knew how to take care of a woman.

“Let’s let your wound air out a little before I put a bandage on it.”

Or you could blow on it again. I placed some hair behind my ear. “Thanks.”

There was something so sexy about the way he’d taken care of me. Being a father probably made him a natural caretaker. I supposed that would be one benefit of dating a single dad. It felt nice playing daddy’s girl for a minute. I’m apparently all sorts of kinky up in my head today.

I cleared my throat. “So what does your nanny do for you besides watch Saylor when you’re working?”

“She’s older and unattractive if you’re…insinuating something?”

“Actually, I wasn’t. But it’s interesting how quickly you went there. Dirty mind.” I’m one to talk.

“You have no idea.” His eyes twinkled. “But definitely not when it comes to my nanny.” He laughed. “Kay is in her fifties, actually. She’s great. Her job is to watch Saylor and nothing more. I don’t expect her to pick up the house or cook or anything like that. I also don’t like having people in my house, you know? I don’t want my daughter to have all of her important memories with someone other than me. So, the second I’m home, the nanny is gone.”

“You cook dinner every night?” I asked.

“I try. I limit takeout to once or twice a week.” He chuckled. “Saylor loves sugary crap. I can’t control what they give her at preschool, and everyone is always giving her candy left and right. So I try to cook as healthy as possible. I have to sneak a lot of things into her food because she won’t eat vegetables—sweet potato into spaghetti sauce and greens into various things. It’s like a science experiment sometimes, putting just the right amount in—not so much that the taste is overpowering.”

I scrunched my nose. “I’m not a fan of veggies, either. Can you teach me your tricks?”