The Single Dad's New-Year Bride

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Callum apoligised, righting the chair and noting the woman’s protective stance. ‘I hope he wasn’t a nuisance.’

‘Not at all,’ Hailey dismissed quickly.

‘Damn fine eye if you ask me.’ Ronald Archer chuckled. ‘He picked the best set of legs at the table.’

Hailey blushed as Callum looked at his son askance. ‘Tom—what did you do?’

‘I was just playing with my truck under the table and her shoes were so sparkly and her legs so shiny I just had to make them a road.’

Tom flicked his torch on and shone it at Hailey’s shoes to demonstrate. The whole table, now caught up in the melodrama, looked down too. Hailey lifted the hem of her long gown, revealing diamanté-encrusted, strappy heels. They caught the light magnificently. The silver threads in her stockings also shimmered enticingly.

‘Aren’t they bootiful, Daddy?’

Hailey looked at the boy’s father, amused to know that this man could be put on the back foot by a little boy. She raised an eyebrow.

Callum saw the challenge in the woman’s gaze, saw the amusement sparkling there. He felt a nudge of awareness spike his bloodstream as the brief glimpse of the woman’s feet and ankles dared him to explore higher. He allowed himself a few lazy seconds to thoroughly discover the delights of her slinky red dress, the close-fitting bodice, the deep V of her cleavage.

The whole package from her toes to the dusting of freckles on her upturned nose seemed pretty good from where he was standing. Very, very delectable. ‘I agree, Tom,’ Callum said, holding the stranger’s gaze. ‘Superb.’

Hailey felt heat envelop her. She swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as the Sahara. She felt…devoured. She blinked. And blinked again before sanity returned. For crying out loud. The man had a kid. And no doubt a wife.

‘’Perb,’ Tom repeated, smiling up at Hailey.

She tore her eyes away from the magnetism of the man’s heat-seeking gaze. ‘Thank you, young man,’ Hailey curtsied. ‘I got them from Paris.’

Tom’s eyes rounded again. ‘You know Paris Hilton?’

Hailey blinked as the little band of onlookers tittered. She caught Rilla’s wink as she turned to look up at Tom’s father, whose sinful-looking lips were pressed together hard trying to stay in a straight line. ‘Paris Hilton?’ She raised her eyebrows.

Callum shrugged. ‘He has an inquisitive nature. We watch the news together.’

‘Paris, France.’ Hailey turned back to face Tom. ‘I bought them in a gorgeous department store and they cost me a fortune.

‘Well, I like them. They’re ’perb.’

Hailey beamed at him, his words disarmingly innocent, obviously proud of himself to have remembered the new word. He reminded her of another little boy at another time and her smile slipped slightly.

Happy thoughts, Hails. Happy thoughts.

‘Nevertheless, Tom, people’s legs aren’t racetracks,’ Callum chided gently. ‘I’m sure you scared the lady half to death.’

Callum could see no harm had been done but even for a six-year-old, Tom was exceptionally impulsive. His illness and extended stay in hospital hadn’t done much for his social skills. ‘Apoligise to the lady… Er, I’m sorry…I don’t know your name.’

‘Hailey,’ she supplied. ‘Really, it isn’t necessary. I’m sure he’s just bored out of his brains.’ What was the man doing at a ball with a child anyway? Hadn’t he heard of babysitters? Where was his mother?

‘Tom,’ Callum prompted, ignoring Hailey’s protestations.

Hailey’s heart went out to Tom as she watched his little shoulders slump. He shuffled his feet, his eyes cast downwards, finding a spot on the carpet exceedingly fascinating as he flicked his torch on and off.

‘I’m sorry, Hailey. I only wanted to drive my truck on a glittery road.’

Hailey crouched down until she was at eye level with Tom. She placed a finger under his chin and gently raised his face. She wanted to haul him into her arms and hug him. She removed her hand and clamped her arms firmly by her side, giving him a big grin instead.

‘Hey, that’s OK. It’s the first time anyone’s wanted to race a car along my legs. I’ll cherish the memory for ever.’

Tom’s eyes grew wide again. ‘Really? For ever and ever and ever?’

She nodded her head solemnly. ‘To infinity and beyond.’

‘Wow.’ Tom exhaled. ‘Did you hear that, Dad?’

‘Come on, Tom.’ Callum squeezed his son’s shoulders. From this vantage point he could see right down into Hailey’s deep cleavage and he was acutely aware he hadn’t admired a woman’s décolletage for quite a few years. He was gawking like a horny teenager. ‘We have to keep mingling.’

Now was not the time to have his libido roar to life. They were in a new city, with a new job, a new house and a new school. And Tom had only finished his grueling treatments six months ago. There was much to occupy him. He really didn’t have time for sparkly shoes and racetrack legs.

Hailey looked up from her crouched position and caught the man’s steady stare. She felt the heat again and almost toppled backwards from the blast. Tom and his father departed and it took Hailey a moment to collect herself before she could stand. And even then her hands trembled and her insides felt decidedly unsettled.

Hailey escaped outside to the balcony ten minutes before the big countdown began. The very last thing she wanted was to be inside when the clock reached midnight. Beth would have Gabe, Rilla would have Luca and she…she would have eighty-not-out Ronald Archer.

So, she’d wait it out here and then say her goodbyes. Her sisters would protest but neither of them could say she hadn’t fulfilled her promise to attend. She knew they were only trying and that they’d been worried about her since her return from the UK. All her family had. But no amount of parties was ever going to erase what had happened. That took time and she was moving on. She was.

OK, maybe she hadn’t exactly made much of an effort to enjoy herself tonight as her sisters had hoped. Maybe she hadn’t met her perfect match, as they’d hoped. But she was there, wasn’t she? An image of Tom’s father flashed before her and she banished it. Damn the man! Her gaze had followed him around the room all night.

So, the man looked good in a tux. So, he’d looked at her like he’d wanted to eat her up. She wasn’t some innocent Cinderella, hanging around in her glass slippers, waiting for her prince to pull up on a white horse.

Been there, done that. Fairy-tale crushed into the dust.

Over it. So, over it.

Or at least she’d thought she was until that man and his son had barged into her glowingly successful recovery process.

She gave herself a mental shake and wandered over to the ornamental railing. A breeze was blowing and it ruffled her hair, lifting it off her shoulders. The moon was three-quarters full and an entrancing milky glow bathed the beautifully landscaped gardens below. She inhaled deeply, a waft of heavily scented camellias infusing her senses.

She was alone and it was relatively peaceful. The heavy curtains at the closed French doors managed to muffle the background bass still throbbing away inside. She could just make out the DJ whipping the party-goers into a pre-countdown frenzy as the hands of the clock inched closer to midnight.

The doors opened and she turned to see Tom, his trusty torch and truck still in hand.

‘Hailey!’

‘Hey, Tom,’ she said as the little boy wandered over. ‘Did you lose your father again?’

‘Nah, he’s coming too.’

Hailey helped him up onto the stone seat beside her. It was one of several placed periodically along the perimeter of the railing. Tom ran his truck back and forth along the rail, making engine noises.

The little boy looked even paler in the moonlight. Unnaturally pale. ‘Did you get the truck for Christmas?’ she asked.

Tom nodded.