Page 24 of One Hot Daddy

Debbie winces."Oh, it's worse than that.This is a reunion of divorced couples who want to try swinging."

"We don't have any swing sets."

"That's not what 'swinging' means, Fletcher."She inches closer to whisper, "It means couples who want to, um, exchange partners.Like, sexually."

"Is that legal?"

Debbie shrugs."Sex isn't illegal, unless you're doing it in public.Our guests will be discreet.Every couple does...whatever they intend to do, strictly in the confines of a hotel room.It starts in the ballroom, where is clothed and they can, you know, choose their partners."

The things people do these days...

Oh yes, my life just keeps getting better.

Chapter Twelve

Jennifer

After another week of rough days at work, Fletcher arrives home at the usual time, collapsing onto the sofa with a look of sheer defeat in his eyes.I've given the kids the task of setting the table---partly to give Fletcher a break, but I would've directed the kids to set the table anyway.As soon as they came home, I had gotten them ready to do their homework.I've never understood why children need to go to school for hours every day only to do more work at home.Homeschooling would be better, in my opinion, but these aren't my kids.We'll stick to homework.

Fletcher becomes more animated and cheerful as dinner goes on.Amelia rolls her eyes at him when he asks about her project for the science fair.She's been working on it for weeks, before I became part of the household.I know she's proud of her efforts, though she'd never admit it.

"It's fine," she says, with a teenage tone that somehow compresses a paragraph of attitude into two syllables.

"Just fine?"Fletcher presses, a hint of his old spark returning."The way you've been hoarding the kitchen table for your volcano, I expected something more dramatic than 'fine.'"

"It's not a volcano," Amelia corrects him with exaggerated patience."It's a sustainable energy demonstration.Mrs.Wilkins said it was college-level work."

I hide my smile behind my water glass.The girl is gifted.She reminds me of myself at that age, though with considerably more sass.

"And how was your day, Charlotte?"Fletcher turns toward the eleven-year-old who has been methodically arranging her peas into a smiley face.

"I made the soccer team!"Charlotte announces."Coach says I have natural talent."

"That's brilliant, love!"Fletcher beams at her.The pride in his eyes is unmistakable.

"We should celebrate," I suggest."Maybe ice cream after dinner?"

Fletcher shoots me a grateful look.

I shrug like it's nothing, but warmth spreads through my chest.It's strange how quickly I've settled into this routine with them.Three weeks ago, I'd never even met these people, and now I'm planning their celebrations.But it feels right somehow.

"Ice cream?"Henry pipes up from his end of the table, where he's been suspiciously quiet."Can I have chocolate with rainbow sprinkles?"

"With fudge sauce and caramel too," adds Charlotte, her soccer victory apparently deserving of maximum toppings.

Fletcher raises an eyebrow at me."You've opened Pandora's Box now."

"I can handle it."But honestly, I'm not positive about that.I've never lived with so many kids before.

After dinner, I drive us all to the ice cream parlor on Main Street.It's one of those charming small-town spots with a striped awning and handwritten flavor boards.The kids tumble out of the car like they've been released from incarceration after years of confinement.

"Slow down," Fletcher calls out after them, but they're already at the door, pressing their faces against the glass like they've never seen ice cream before.

"You'd think they were starved at home," I say as Fletcher and I follow at a more reasonable pace.

"The Murgatroyd sweet tooth is legendary," Fletcher explains, his hand briefly touching the small of my back as he holds the door."My mum used to hide the biscuit tin on top of the fridge.I'd use a broom handle to knock it down."

The ice cream parlor is bustling with families enjoying the warm evening.Fairy lights twinkle from the ceiling, and the sweet scent of waffle cones fills the air.I breathe it in, surprised by how much I'm enjoying this little outing.Henry is already chattering away to the teenage server, who looks both amused and overwhelmed by his detailed ice cream order.Amelia hangs back, pretending she's too mature for this kind of childish excitement, but I catch her eyeing the mint chocolate chip.