3. Karin

KARIN

Why does it smell so delicious in my house?

I blink in confusion as I close the door behind me and step out of my shoes. In all my time as a single mom, I've never come home to someone cooking for me. In fact, it's not even something I think about missing out on. But as I walk further into my house, drawn toward the kitchen by the enticing smells of a homemade meal, I realize how amazing it is to come home to something like this.

When I reach the kitchen, I'm met with a scene that stops me in my tracks in awe. My daughter is standing on a step stool in front of the sink, washing cherry tomatoes, a handmade chef's hat perched on her head. Ryan is standing a few feet away from her, stirring a pot on the stove, a towel casually flung over his shoulder.

I watch as he grabs a spoon from my silverware drawer and dips it into the pot. A warm feeling rushes through me as I watch the spoon disappear into his mouth, his lips sliding slowly over it as he pulls it out.

Oof. That shouldn't have been as sexy as it was.

Maybe it was a bad idea to hire a hot manny.

It's not like I hired Ryan because he's hot, though. I hired him because he's qualified and experienced. And, most importantly, I could tell that he was going to be great with Amelia. I mean, just look at them together. My daughter has never shown much of an interest in helping me in the kitchen, but right now she looks as happy as when she's playing with her toys.

"Hi, Mom!" Amelia exclaims, noticing me. "Guess what? We're making dinner."

"I can see that. It smells delicious." I walk up to my daughter and kiss her cheek. Gazing over her head at Ryan, I smile and say, "You really didn't have to do this."

He shrugs and returns my smile. "I enjoy cooking."

"What can I help with?" I ask.

"Nothing. We've got it handled. Right, Chef Amelia?" He sends a look over to my daughter, and she nods vigorously.

I should use this opportunity to go check my emails, I think. But as soon as I have the thought, I realize how ridiculous it is. What am I doing? I just put in a full day's work. My clients know I'm off the clock until tomorrow morning. Right now I should be doing anything but work.

"Are you sure I can't help with anything?" I ask.

"Absolutely," Ryan says, adding more seasoning to the pot on the stove. "Feel free to relax."

It's a strange feeling, sitting down and not doing anything. Don't get me wrong, it's nice—but it's also weird. I'm so used to taking care of everything, even when I'm exhausted or under the weather.

I should set the table.I start to stand up, but when I glance over at the dining table, I see that it's already set. I sit down again. That's when I realize that I'm a bit nervous about the meal we're about to have. Will it be awkward, the three of us sitting down together? What if Amelia says something embarrassing again? What if I embarrass myself?

Stop worrying, I tell myself. It's just dinner.

I distract myself by asking Amelia about how her day at camp went, and she happily chatters away about it as she continues to help Ryan cook dinner. I love hearing her talk about her day. But when the three of us sit down to eat, my stomach is still full of nerves. The creamy tomato rigatoni that Ryan made looks delicious, but I only help myself to a small portion. I'm not even sure I'll be able to eat what I just put on my plate.

Then I take a bite, and I'm blown away by how good it is.

"Wow," I say, covering my mouth. "This is incredible."

"Thanks," Ryan says, grinning as he dishes some out onto his plate. "It was my grandmother's recipe."

Amelia looks at him curiously. "Was your grandmother a chef?"

"Not professionally," he says. "She was a homemaker and a mother of seven. She fed them well."

"Your grandma had seven kids?" says Amelia, wide-eyed.

"Yep. All girls, too."

"Whoa." Amelia's eyes slide over to me. "Mom, can you imagine if there were seven of me?"

I laugh and shake my head. "That would be something, indeed."

Amelia looks thoughtful as she chews another bite of pasta. "Hey, Ryan? If you had a daughter, what would you name her?"

"Hmm." He thinks about it for a few seconds. "I really don't know, to be honest. I think I'd like to meet her first before deciding on a name."

"I think you should name her Dolphin."

Ryan doesn't even look phased. "Dolphin? That's pretty. I like it."

Amelia looks pleased. I reach for my water glass, hiding my smile behind it.

As we're finishing up dinner, Amelia asks Ryan if he'll play Battleshipwith her, and even though I interrupt to say that Ryan surely needs to be getting home, he insists that it's fine and that he's happy to stay and play the game with her. As they head off into the living room, I bring the dishes into the kitchen and get them rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher.

After cleaning up, I scoop some ice cream into three bowls, add sprinkles on top, and bring the bowls out to the living room. Ryan and Amelia look happy and relaxed, sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table with the game set up between them.

"What about E-6?" asks Amelia.

"Miss," says Ryan. "B-2."

"Miss!" Amelia says triumphantly, then drums her fingers on her chin as she considers her next guess. "Okay, how about C-10?"

I set down their bowls of ice cream and peer at both sides of the game. "Sweetie, you already guessed C-10," I say, pointing out the white peg on her side of the grid.

"Oh. Whoops. Okay, C-9, then."

"Miss," says Ryan.

As the game goes on, it becomes clear that Amelia is trying to drag it out as long as possible. As glad as I am that my daughter likes spending time with her new nanny, I feel guilty about how much time Ryan has given to her today. I make a mental note to compensate him extra for it.

"Do you want to play another round?" Amelia asks hopefully when they finally finish their game.

"Honey, it's time for Ryan to leave," I say, reaching out to rub her back. "Let's say goodnight, okay?"

When Amelia rushes toward Ryan and gives him a big hug goodbye, I feel my heart squeeze tight. She's just being her usual sweet self, I remind myself, thinking of all the times that she's hugged her teachers at school. And yet there's something about the present moment that feels…well, significant.

This is what it could be like, I find myself thinking before I can stop myself. A father for her. A man for her to look up to.

I shake the thought from my head, chiding myself for even going there. I've spent enough time feeling guilty about giving her "only" a mom. I'm enough. I'm giving her the best possible life that I can.

Still, I can't deny how cute it would be to see her be a daddy's girl…

As soon as that thought enters my head, it unleashes a full-blown fantasy. Suddenly I'm imagining Ryan and I getting married. Him officially adopting Amelia. Ryan and I having more kids together. It's completely crazy, fantasizing something like that, and yet that's exactly where my mind goes.

As if that would ever happen in real life.

Swallowing back the mixture of emotions swirling inside me, I ask Amelia to please clean up the board game while I see Ryan out. She looks a little grumpy about the request, but she does as I ask. I walk with Ryan out of the living room, waiting until we're out of earshot to speak.

"Thank you for everything today, Ryan," I say. "Moving forward, though, you really don't need to do so much."

"I enjoyed it," he says, stepping ahead of me to grab his jacket from the coat closet. "It was a fun day."

"Well, that's good to hear, but I certainly don't expect you to?—"

Before I'm able to finish the sentence, I trip on one of Amelia's toys on the ground. And of course, because this is the way life works, I stumble forward, fully losing my balance and falling right into Ryan.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," I stammer, flushing as I feel the hardness of his body pressed up against me. Jesus, is this man made of solid muscle? Does he spend all of his free time at the gym?

"Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes full of concern. His hands are on my arms now, holding me steady, bare skin against bare skin.

"Yeah. Uh-huh. I just—I tripped." I swallow, knowing I should take a step back to put ample space between us but finding it impossible to actually do it.

"It's a minefield, isn't it?" Ryan says, smiling. Ugh. That smile. I'm melting.

"Exactly," I manage to say.

His hands are still closed around my arms, and my skin is radiating hot beneath his touch. Damn it. Now my nipples are hard. If he looked down right now, I'm sure he'd be able to tell.

But his eyes are locked onto mine. As I meet his eyes, my heart starts to race so fast that I can hear it pounding in my ears.

"Your jacket," I mumble.

"Right," he says, and finally lets go. As he pulls his jacket from the closet, he says, "Probably won't be needing this much longer, huh? I heard this summer's going to be a scorcher."

"Oh?" I ask, still feeling the heat of his touch on my arms.

"Yep. The heat could be record-breaking, apparently." He walks to my front door and pulls it open. "Goodnight, Karin. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight," I squeak out.

After he leaves, I let out the longest breath I've exhaled all day.