Risking the Shot (Stick Side #4) - Amy Aislin Page 0,43
“how to date as a single parent,” something he’d never had to look up before, seeing as his interest in dating was right down there with 3D puzzles. He expected such wisdoms as make sure your child still feels loved or don’t rush to introduce your new partner to your child or don’t have sleepovers while your child is home. Things any single parent already knew.
Instead he was led to more than one family psychology site that encouraged putting the relationship before the kids.
A loving and trusting relationship is the centriforce around which the family orbits and demonstrates to the children how a respectful partnership should look.
Huh. Theoretically, it made sense, but it also sounded sacrilegious. He’d spent the past four years putting Andy first, and all of a sudden he was supposed to stop, just because he was dating again?
We understand that this is a tricky proposition for single parents and that there will be a learning curve. Give yourself time to adjust by imagining a scenario where your relationship with your partner is the center of your life. Now imagine how much stability—and extra love—that will create for your children.
Could he do that? He didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life, so he supposed he had to. But was he ready to do that now? He liked Tay a lot, and the reason he hadn’t put an end to their quasi-relationship—or whatever it was—before it’d even begun was because he could see something long-term coming of it. Their sexual chemistry was certainly compatible, and their personalities seemed to mesh.
It wasn’t like he could simply switch off putting Andy first, though. He’d take it one step at a time and see where things with Tay went before implementing such drastic changes to his life.
So. Okay. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed the laptop to the center of the table and sipped his whiskey, the same Pike Creek he’d enjoyed two nights ago with Tay. Would he ever be able to enjoy a drink again without imagining Tay tasting it from his lips or his roughly whispered very, very naughty?
Unlikely.
Did he care? Not so much. It just made anticipating their date on Sunday that much sweeter.
Grabbing his drink, he headed into the family room to watch the Toronto vs Nashville game.
Andy was asleep, and Dakota didn’t have work to catch up on. He’d already decorated the simple cookies for the last-day-on-the-job office party that were being picked up first thing tomorrow. There was laundry to do and the kitchen floor needed scrubbing—it was still sticky from when Andy had dropped his juice earlier. He needed to check the online scheduler he shared with Calder for their business to make sure he had all of the supplies he needed for their upcoming orders, and his supplies needed inventorying. He needed to change—after picking Andy up from preschool, they’d come straight home to make dinner, and he was still in his work outfit of chinos and sweater.
Except he was tired and lazy, and he was taking an evening to himself.
A key in the lock halted his progress across the hall. Only one other person had a key to his place, so he waited at the foot of the stairs for Calder to come in, hoping that Calder wasn’t about to hand him a last-minute cake to decorate.
“Jesus!” Calder jumped back, hand going to his chest. “Why are you standing there in the dark like some freakishly tall ghostly apparition?”
“You say ‘freakishly tall’ as if you’re not two inches taller than me.”
“Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” Muttering to himself, Calder closed the door softly behind him and slipped out of his boots, leaving his winter coat on the bench by the door.
Relieved that Calder wasn’t carrying a cake tray, Dakota jerked his head in the direction of the family room, urging Calder to follow him to where their voices wouldn’t drift up to Andy’s bedroom and wake him.
“Want a drink?” Dakota asked once they were in the other room.
“Got about seven of those?” Calder said with a nod at Calder’s lowball glass.
Dakota’s eyebrows went up. “Something on your mind?”
Dropping onto the couch, Calder scrubbed both hands over his face. “I did a thing. A stupid thing. And then I did another thing I should’ve talked to you about first.”
Wary, Dakota sat next to his cousin. “Okay.”
With his hands cupped over his mouth, a muffled “I quit my job today” escaped Calder’s mouth.