Single Dad (Reduced to sample due to publishing)

Chapter Three - Ground Rules

Carrie

I watched Mr Caldwell's back get farther and farther away when he headed downstairs. Charlotte looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. She might just be the cutest thing I have ever seen. I laugh out loud as I remembered her saying fuck, twice and then laugh louder at just how outraged and horrified her father appeared to be.

"Dick." I muttered that one word and as much as his touch sent me into girly overdrive; giggling, panicking, saying stupid things as my skin flushed and tingled I totally believed that the man was a twat of the highest order, but he really did make very cute babies. "No!" my chastisement for myself was in vain because I was already thinking about making babies, the physical act, imagining my new boss naked and sweaty as he stripped me bare and devoured me—

"Miss Webber, those ten minutes are now down to four minutes."

I shook all thoughts, good, sexy thoughts from my mind and refocused on my boss, the dickhead.

With my belongings literally thrown in a heap on my bed I made my way downstairs, as commanded. I followed the sounds of Charlotte's laughter and the rumbling of her father's voice to the kitchen. The sight that greeted me was one of ovary bursting proportions. He, Mr Caldwell, Gabriel is singing and dancing to a popular song about a shark family with his daughter. Charlotte's giggles that I am sure are being pulled up from her boots echo around the room. She joins in with all the actions and the repetitive parts of the song between peals of laughter, laughter her father joins in with as the song comes to an end on the TV screen hanging on the kitchen wall.

"Again, again," she squealed, excitement rolling off her.

Mr Caldwell laughed at her demands before hitting play again. I am unsure whether I should have announced my arrival already but with the singing and dancing in full flow once more I was incapable of doing anything other than watch on.

Charlotte was giving her father a round of applause as he threw in some impromptu moves that I was sure weren't part of the official dance when he spun around and came to a dead stop at the image of me grinning inanely.

"Erm, I, Miss Webber...you're here, at last...come in."

I bit back a smirk at his discomfort at having been discovered but also at his attempts to somehow move past his song and dance routine and refocus on my arrival with the inference that I was late.

"Yes. I'd have come down much sooner had I known there was a party."

He laughed and blushed a little at the same time and oh my good lord, if he wasn't even more gorgeous than ever. Don't think that way about him, dickhead, remember, I told myself.

I clearly wasn't listening because my mouth opened again, and I continued to speak before he could respond. "And you're light on your feet for a big man."

He stared at me as a what the fuck rang around my head. I needed to get a grip here because I was at risk of, well, I had no clue what I was at risk of. He was gorgeous and I found him attractive, but he was my boss, no more, plus, it was quite clear that he was barely tolerating me.

"No party..." he coughed, clearing his throat before reverting to type, the barriers shot back up. "I don't appreciate lateness," he looked across at the clock. "And I'm not good with mess and clutter." His eyebrows raised and he glanced towards the ceiling, presumably that was a reference to my belonging strewn across my landing.

"Oh course." I still stood in the doorway, unsure what to say or do.

"Good. Well, a cup of tea maybe?"

"Thank you." I nodded.

"I will make the tea, maybe you'd like to take Charlotte into the garden, get to know one another and then after tea we will arrange a mutually convenient time for us to get together and lay down a few ground rules."