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18
Shane draggedhimself and the boys down to school at the ass crack of dawn, after checking and rechecking Dylan’s bag to make sure he had everything he needed so he could be shipped off to camp for the night. He’d offered to be a parent volunteer and join the excursion, but Dylan had begged him not to. Apparently, he’d reached the age when his dad was no longer “cool”, so Shane clapped him on the shoulder and waved goodbye as the bus took off. Then he and Hunter returned home to eat yogurt with fruit for breakfast.
“Would you like to do a sleepover with Izzy tonight?” he asked as they sat at the table.
Hunter’s brows knitted together. “On a kindy day?”
“That’s right, bud. It’s a special occasion. Dylan gets to go on camp, so why shouldn’t you get to do something too?” He crossed his fingers, hoping Hunter would go for the idea. Even though Bex’s daughter, Izzy, was a couple of years older, she and Hunter got along well.
“Yeah!” Hunter exclaimed. “Can we camp on the floor?”
“You’ll have to ask Miss Cane about that. Why don’t you pack a bag, and she can pick you up after kindergarten?”
Hunter started to stand, but Shane stopped him. “Hold up. Finish your breakfast first.”
Hunter grumbled but complied, shoveling yogurt into his mouth until it was gone, then he raced away to pack. Shane grinned and sent Faith a text.
Shane: We’re on for tonight. Come over for dinner at 7pm.
If his sons both got to spend time with friends, it was only fair he did too, right?
How many candles is too many?
The day had flown by, and Shane found himself setting the dinner table in a frantic rush, walking a fine line between romantic and over the top. He wanted to woo Faith, but not set the house on fire. Deciding three candles was enough, he lit them, then packed the rest away and dimmed the lights. He’d already laid out cutlery and napkins, so he hurried back to the kitchen to stir the pot of spaghetti bolognese that was a few minutes from being done.
In his past life, Shane hadn’t been much of a cook, but he’d learned quickly after Diana left because taking care of himself had been the only way to stop the Bridge Club from turning up with casseroles every other night. Much as he’d appreciated their support, he hadn’t wanted their pity. Especially in the early days when he insisted Diana would return as soon as she realized her mistake.
He poured two glasses of red wine and carried them to the table, then sliced French bread to accompany the spaghetti and grabbed the salad he’d prepared earlier. The rap of knuckles on wood caught his attention, and he glanced at the clock. Right on time. Then why did he feel so flustered and caught off guard?
He scanned his button-down shirt for sauce stains as he hurried to the front door. He yanked it open and stopped abruptly to stare. Faith wore a yellow cocktail dress and funky retro heels that must have been four inches high.
His gaze drifted down her amazing legs. “Wow.”
She grinned, drawing his attention to her bold red lips. “You look pretty wow yourself.” She handed him a small cardboard box that he hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding. “Dessert, courtesy of Megan.”
He lifted the lid. Nestled inside were two cupcakes topped with a thin layer of pink frosting and fresh strawberries.
“Strawberry and champagne,” she explained. “She wanted to go with chocolate-covered strawberries, but I thought that might be a little on the nose.”
“They look great.” He tucked the box under his arm and offered her his hand. She interlocked her fingers with his and followed him into the house.
“Should I take my shoes off?”
“God, no.” He glanced down at her calves again. “Do you have any idea how sexy they are? I want to be the one to take them off, but not until after dinner.”
Her grin turned naughty. “Well, if you insist.” She sniffed the air. “Something smells delicious.”
“Spaghetti bolognese,” he said, “With homemade pasta.”
He showed her into the dining area, and her eyes widened. “If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working.”
“Good.” He escorted her to the table and pulled out a chair. “Tonight, you get the full date experience because I’ve been a bit remiss up until now. Give me two minutes, and I’ll be out with dinner.”
He set the cupcakes on the counter and checked the selection of food to make sure everything was in order. He dished up two plates of spaghetti, added a few slices of bread, and arranged the side salads in white bowls. It looked as good as it was going to get. He brought the salads out first, placing one in front of Faith and the other where he would sit. On his second trip, he watched Faith for her reaction, and he wasn’t disappointed.
She perked up and waved a hand to waft the scent toward herself. “That smells scrumptious.”
“Thank you. It’s my signature dish.”
