3. Carly

It was hard to believe I still had more to do when my shift at Forge drew to a close, but sure enough, even with an aching back and my hair smelling of garlic thanks to handing out many orders of tonight's aromatic dinner special, I still had a late dinner with Mom and my new stepfather to look forward to.

Stepfather. Good Lord, what a weird thing to suddenly have after twenty-five years of content, perfectly-adequate single mother-dom. And Mom had implied that he'd be bringing his own family to the dinner, too, though I'd been too shellshocked to ask for specifics. He could be bringing the entire Von Trapp clan to our house, for all I knew.

There was no combating the dread that weighed down my bones in anticipation for this dinner. But at least my baby girl's smiling face would greet me when I got home, and she'd be there to keep me sane and laughing through the clusterfuck of a first meeting I was expecting. Mom had even texted me that Ella took a late nap in the afternoon so she could stay up for our family dinner. It was a weekend, anyway, so I'd let Grammy spoil my child a little with an extra late bedtime tonight. It was her right.

As I was heading to the break room to grab my things and head out for the evening, I ran into Nate in the hallway. Like, actually ran into him, our chests colliding and both of us releasing a startled "oof" noise that turned into mutual laughter. Nate's strong chef's hands came up to grab me by the shoulders. He steadied me, and his skin's warmth seemed to sear through my clothes.

"Whoa, Carl," Nate laughed, calling me the nickname he'd mistaken my name for when we first met. At the time, I'd been mortified to be called that by someone as jaw-droppingly hot as Nate, but I'd gotten used to his disarming appearance since we'd become friends. It didn't stop him from being absolutely delicious, but when he called me a dorky man's name, I was able to take a step back and realize just friends was all either of us wanted. "Where's the fire?"

"Sorry, sorry. Just headed out for the night," I told him with an apologetic smile. "You getting out of here anytime soon?"

"Why, you tryin' to take me somewhere special?" He asked it with a cheeky wink, and I rolled my eyes even as my heart fluttered at the sight.

"Yeah, because you're so lacking in female company that you'd have to resort to me taking you out." I laughed.

"Hey, I could be flush with options, but I'd still prefer the taste of a certain young MILF with curves for days," he said with a wolfish grin. A short beat, and he tacked on, "I mean, professionally."

My laugh bubbled out of me, half-jovial and half-flustered. Alright, so he didn't always give off completely platonic vibes, and there was definitely nothing traditionally professional about our relationship, but I knew better than to take Nate Young's flirting seriously. "Shut up," I told him through giggles instead, and he threw me a lip-smacking air kiss over his shoulder as we parted ways.

Nate was the life of the party everywhere he went, and that was why I loved working with him. He never played the uptight boss even though he co-owned the business with his best friend, Logan, and was passionate about its success to the same degree. See, Logan? I thought spitefully. It's possible to give a shit about your job without being a dick to everyone around you! Go figure.

Even after all this time working under them both at Forge, it was still baffling to me that the two of them were even friends, much less close enough to open a business together. They were total opposites in every way. Even their looks seemed to be in strong contrast. Logan was hulking and intimidatingly large in a way that said he worked out a lot despite some softness in his middle, and Nate was the sort of tall and lanky that must have looked awkward in his youth, though now his sexy tattoos just made him look sinewy and rough around the edges. Although they both had brown hair, Logan's was almost black like his heart, and Nate's was the golden shade that looked almost blond in the sunlight. Logan's hazel eyes were almost golden in a way that somehow still felt cold, metallic, but Nate's chocolate brown irises were nothing but gooey, sweet, lava-cake warmth.

Though both of them were plenty delicious, that was for sure. It was hard for me to even allow that thought about Logan after he was such a hard ass with me today, but I couldn't deny the little sizzle of attraction I felt staring challengingly into his eyes, holding my ground. At least no one was asking me to admit that he was yummy out loud.

My favorite non-Nate coworker, Maya, met me in the break room with a mischievous grin on her face. Even as my cheeks were still tinged with pink from Nate's flirting, I narrowed my eyes at her.

"What is it, Maya?" I asked with an aggrieved sigh, suspecting where this was going before she spoke.

"Don't give me that woe-is-me shit. I was just having fun watching you and Nate flirt your little asses off."

"Little?" I asked, raising one eyebrow as I turned back to look at my definitely-not-little ass. Maya snorted.

"Girl, you know what I'm saying. Don't change the subject."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said breezily. I started to rummage through my locker, pulling out my purse in preparation for going home.

"Every time the two of you interact, it's like an electrical storm," Maya said, and when I looked at her with a confused eyebrow raise, she clarified, "You know. Sparks flying."

I laughed. "I'm not sure that's how electricity works."

"Oh, my God. Do you have to be so logical all the time? I'm just trying to gossip like a normal person." Maya threw up her hands in distress. "Loosen up, lady! I'm a mom, too, but you don't see me taking myself so seriously all the time. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with it. We all know Nate is straight-up sexy."

"Not exactly my type," I said, which was half a lie. Since Ella was born, I hadn't had time to have a type at all, but if I had one, Nate definitely fit the bill. When we first met back when I started working at Forge, he'd introduced himself in that suave way he had, and when he touched me—innocent, just a normal handshake that shouldn't have had me turning instantly feral—my lady parts had come alive. It completely threw me off. No one had caught my eye since the infamous hookup that resulted in my baby girl. Considering the unplanned pregnancy of it all, I figured that was for the best.

At the time, I thought it was unfair that Nate could be so attractive and so impractical as a partner at the same time. Even beyond how out-of-my-league he was, he had a reputation for loving a casual hookup, and something about his tattooed bad boy image, to me, didn't scream "future stepdad to a current five-year-old." I had to think about Ella before everything. I didn't resent her for it at all. It was my decision to have her, my decision to put her first, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But there were sacrifices involved, and I'd given up any chance at going for the sexy, less-than-kid-friendly, painfully impractical guy.

Logan seems very practical, a rude little voice at the back of my head piped in. Suddenly, I was overcome with mental images of his burly frame—some might even call it a dad bod, which was just perfect—carrying all of Ella's science equipment to the car for a family trip, building a treehouse in the back yard, enveloping Ella and me both in a huge, comforting hug.

Too bad he was such a dick. And kind of my boss to boot. I didn't even know if he was single, and it'd be good to keep it that way. No use wondering about something with no chance of anything coming to fruition.

Even if the authority in his voice earlier had made me a little weak in the knees. Not that I'd ever take a moment to examine what that meant.

"That man is everyone's type, first of all," Maya told me, following me out to the parking lot. The night was warm and just settling into darkness, and the still-straggling sunset reminded me again that I wasn't through with this day. At least Mom's cooking had always been stellar, so I had a yummy meal to look forward to. "Second, what even is your type? Someone who doesn't actually exist and won't threaten your comfy little routine?"

"Maya," I half-sighed, my exhaustion from the day unfortunately creeping in to make my tone a little harsher than I intended. "I really appreciate your investment in my love life?—"

"Or lack thereof," she snarked.

"But you know I'm just not really thinking about that right now. Ella's my priority, and no amount of flirtation is going to change that. No matter how pretty Nate is."

"So you admit he's pretty!" Maya half-laughed, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"I have eyes."

We'd reached our cars, parked right next to each other in the staff lot, and before I could make my escape, Maya stopped me again with a gentle hand on my arm.

"Listen, Carly. I really admire your commitment to your daughter. Hell, I have kids, too, you know. I get how scary it can be to let somebody into that little family bubble."

It was true. Maya and her husband had met when her oldest son was still in diapers, but they'd managed to make dating work. Now, they'd been married for ten years and had two more beautiful children to show for it. I sensed a but coming, though, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

"But you've gotta give it a shot sometime. You deserve love, and partnership, and to get out of your mom's house." She let out a single laugh, squeezed my arm, and let go. "Maybe Nate's not your way to find all that, but I hope you'll get back out there sometime. You're still so young and hot. Gotta show these men what they've been missing."

We parted ways on smiles, then, and I thought about Maya's encouragement for my whole drive home. My favorite alternative radio station in the car didn't drown out the swirling thoughts in my head—made-up images of Nate and Logan both as partners, as father figures for Ella.

The real world waited inside my mom's house, though, so once I'd parked in the driveway and sat in the car alone just long enough to finish the song playing over the radio, I clicked the engine off and squared my shoulders. All I had to do was go inside and have dinner, and I gave myself that logical comfort as I walked to the door.

The inside of the house smelled like Mom's pot roast, rich and salty and full of flavor that mingled with my lingering work-induced garlic cloud to remind me that I was starving. Ella"s laughter floated to me from the kitchen, and I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm home," I called out, setting my bag down and joining my family in our small, cozy kitchen. Mom turned over her shoulder to look at me, a warm smile lighting up her lightly-lined face. "Hey, honeybun! How was work?"

"Long," I admitted, only managing a flickering half-grin when I met Mom's eyes. The real thing was reserved for my little one, and when Ella jumped up to hug me around the waist, it lit up my whole face enough to make up for the broken fluorescent fixture above our heads. "But it's much, much better now that I get to come home to my two favorite ladies."

Ella beamed up at me once I'd finished peppering her head with kisses. "I helped Grammy with dinner, Mama!" she announced proudly. "No bugs in anything, promise. I inspected it."

I resisted the urge to laugh, knowing my five-year-old was gravely serious about this. Her bug obsession had extended to sharing often-horrifying facts about how many bugs the FDA allowed in our canned goods, and I hadn't been able to look at canned corn the same way since. We'd had a little talk about not sharing that kind of fact at the dinner table after one of her school friends' parents complained, but there was no stopping this child's curiosity.

"Did you now?" I ruffled Ella"s hair as I let her go, then came around the counter to stand beside Mom. "I bet you were a big help."

"She was," my mother confirmed. "Measured out everything perfectly, and she even cut up some of the veggies. With her little baby proof knife, of course." Mom hurried to tamp down my neuroses before they could run wild. Say what you would about our relationship, but the two of us knew each other.

"My grandbaby is the smartest around," she continued. "I bet she'd be good at rocket science if we gave her a chance. Hey, Ella, you wanna help change the oil in the car?"

Ella giggled, and even in this lovely family moment, I could feel that dread creeping up again. "Ella, baby, will you go set the table for us?"

Ella agreed, always excited to help with any grown-up tasks. Grammy prepped her a stack of plates, making sure they weren't too heavy for her before she sent her on her way.

When Ella had scampered off to the dining room, I took a stab at starting the conversation I didn't want to have in the first place. But this was the first time we'd been almost alone since she'd left for her trip, and I had some things to say. I mentally cracked my knuckles. "Mom, are you?—"

"Carly Marie, hold it right there."

Mom was never very good at multitasking, preferring to give a conversation her full attention rather than splitting her head and heart. So I knew it was serious when she stopped fiddling with the dinner she'd cooked and turned to face me. Honestly, her obsessive flitting was almost freaky, it was so unlike her. Nervous chores were more my brand. When Jodie Sanders looked me in the eye, there was a cool determination around her like a suit of armor.

"Honbun, you know I think you're the cat's pajamas, and I love that I raised such a smart, opinionated woman. But right now, I don't want your opinions about my marriage."

I gaped at her, but Mom wasn't finished.

"I'll ignore the fact that I am the parent here. But you're not allowed to go off and judge Dwight based on the two seconds you met him at the airport before you rushed off like a bat out of hell. Before you go trying to tell me I've made a mistake, or he's not right for me, or any other such nonsense, you have to be on your best behavior for this dinner. I'm talking polite, friendly, downright sweet."

"That doesn't sound like me," I grumbled.

"My point exactly," Mom said, not without a heap of affection. Her face was soft, placating. "Give him a chance, okay?"

Oh, Jesus. Mom knew she had me when I sighed, deflating like a balloon now that any chance of my chewing her out was gone.

"Of course I'll be cordial to him at dinner. You raised me better than to be rude to a guest." She looked pleased with that, so this was my chance to try to have the harder conversation I thought we needed. I pounced. "That's not the issue here. Have you really thought through what all of this means? For me, and for Ella? And hell, Mom, what about our living situation?"

The thought of sharing my home with one man was overwhelming, but for some reason, I couldn't help but torture myself even further with the absurd mental image of four grown men invading our little three-bedroom ranch house.

"Well, I"ve been thinking about our living arrangements," My mom said with a casual tone I didn't trust. She started to wipe down the kitchen counter, avoiding my eyes.

My heart skipped a beat. "Oh?"

"Yes," she said carefully, moving so slowly I could scream. "I"ve thought it over, and I think there's only one solution. Which is why I'm going to move in with Dwight."

My mind raced, struggling to keep up. "Wait—you? Just you? But this house?—"

"Is in my name," Mom continued, nodding slowly. She carefully met my eyes, a little sheepish. "Yeah, I thought about that, too. And I think it's time you took over the mortgage and started your life without your dear old mom around all the time. Don't you?"

Well, that wasn't at all what I'd expected. How many times could my mother shock me into speechlessness in one day? On one hand, it was a relief to think that Ella and I wouldn"t have to uproot our lives and that I could finally test out what it would be like, just us two, without my often-nosy, ever-complicated mother. But on the other hand, I couldn"t help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of being solely responsible for the mortgage on our current home.

"That"s… great, Mom," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Like, that's really generous of you, and you know how much I appreciate everything you've done for us until this point. But… I mean, I'm doing alright with my savings, but what if I can't afford the mortgage on my own?"

Jodie"s smile faltered slightly. "I know it"s a lot to ask, Carly. But Dwight and I have talked about it, and we think it"s the best solution for everyone. You've always been so responsible. You can figure it out."

I felt a surge of frustration. A prickle over my skin. Why did my mother always seem to make decisions without considering the consequences for me? Had whatever guy she'd fallen for more than twenty years ago been the only one to contribute any sense to my DNA?

"Mom, I appreciate that you want to be with Dwight," I said, trying to keep my tone even, "but I"m not sure I can handle the mortgage on my own. And what about Ella? She"s used to having you around."

Jodie"s expression softened, and she reached out to take my hand. "I know this will be… an adjustment. But I promise, we"ll make it work. And you always have your photography to help out, right? Who knows? Maybe this big wedding gig will be just what you need to get back on your feet."

I sighed, feeling a migraine threatening to start behind my eyes. I knew my mother meant well, but I couldn"t help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility that was now resting on my shoulders. With a mother as idealistic as mine, there was always something new giving me a whole collection of early gray hairs.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, forcing a smile. "I"ll figure something out."

She squeezed my hand, her eyes filled with love, misguided though it was. "I know you will, sweetheart. And I"ll be here to help in any way I can."

I nodded, feeling a sense of determination building up like a brick wall within me. I might not have asked for this new family dynamic, but I was determined to make the best of it for the sake of my daughter.

The doorbell rang, breaking the moment. Mom's face lit up, and my stomach churned with nerves.

"I'll get it!" I heard Ella call from the dining room.

I swallowed down my worries and readied myself for this introduction to my new family. But when I rounded the corner to the front foyer and saw Logan McDonald staring at me wide-eyed from the doorway beside Dwight, the worries erupted all over again.