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With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “Yeah, not happening.”

Before she could argue with me anymore, I marched out of my office and towards the front door. I didn’t even wait to see if Annie wanted to come too. The moment I stepped into the sunshine, I let the festive mood envelop me. The brass of the German polka echoed all around, along with the smells of deep-fried food and sugary sweetness. People clapped and waved at the parade performers.

I sidled up to the outdoor waitstaff. It was empty since everyone had their eyes on the parade. Rory must’ve seen me come out here because I suddenly felt a warm lick on my hand. Thankfully, it wasn’t another idiot tourist, but instead, Ozzy’s warm eyes stared up at me.

“Hey, boy,” I murmured as I scratched his soft head. Between Ozzy and the upbeat music, I began swaying my hips and clapping my hands to the beat.

When my gaze fell on a ridiculously tall and well-built man, my hands froze in mid-clap. The entire world around me shuddered to a stop. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so hormonally affected by just the sight of a male piece of flesh.

Maybe it was because Annie had planted the seed in my mind of getting laid.

But holy shit, he was exceptional. Not only was he a certified looker, but a little boy sat on his shoulders. After hitting thirty, nothing was sexier than a man with a child.

Craning my neck, I searched around to see if there was a woman with them. My heart sank when a dark-haired beauty rushed up to throw her arms around him. As they disappeared into the throng, tears stung my eyes.

“Jesus, Mina, could you get any more pathetic?” I muttered.

Since turning thirty, I’d been feeling what my Oma would call broody. I’d never expected to be this old and be single and childless. I’d imagined coming home from my brewery to my 2.5 kids and a dog. You know the alleged American Picket Fence dream except mine had a feminist twist.

But that hadn’t happened, and it didn’t look like it was happening any time soon. And fuck me, that was depressing.

I turned away from the crowd to hide my emotions. After swiping my eyes and taking a deep breath, I turned around and shrieked. Out of nowhere, a little boy stood petting Ozzy.

“Well, hello,” I said warmly.

“Him’s got cwothes on,” the little boy proclaimed with a grin.

I nodded. “It’s called lederhosen.”

His dark brows furrowed. “Nosen?”

With a laugh, I replied, “You almost got it.”

His long strokes of Ozzy’s back were surprisingly gentle. “Do you have a doggy at home?” I asked.

Bobbing his head, he replied, “Pwincess.”

“Is she a big dog or a little dog?”

“Hers a brabador.”

“Oh, those are big dogs.”

It was then it hit me he was completely alone. Kneeling down beside him, I asked, “What’s your name?”

“Owen.”

I smiled. “Owen, where’s your mommy?”

Owen’s hand froze in mid-stroke on Ozzy’s back. When his chin trembled slightly, my heart twisted in my chest. I’d barely had time to process his emotional shift when he burst into tears.

Way to go, Mina. You’re not only a fuckup at business, but you’re a fuckup at being maternal.

Trying to make things right, I drew Owen into my embrace. Running my hands over his back, I crooned, “It’s okay. We’ll find her, I promise.”

“OWEN!” a male voice blared over the noisy parade.

When I jerked my head up, I gasped. The man I’d been ogling from before was frantically searching the crowd. Just as I rose to my feet with Owen in my arms, his panicked eyes locked with mine.