Christmas With The Single Dad. Sarah Morgan

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glanced at her watch and sighed. ‘Time to jog again, Sammy.’

      They set off at a jog, slower this time, and when her lungs started to burn again she reminded herself how much her new trainers had cost—four times what she’d paid for the bras. She was going to get her money’s worth out of them. She could keep running for another—she glanced at her watch—one and three quarter minutes. She glanced down at her feet to admire the way the red dirt had already tarnished the brand-new perfection of her trainers when Sammy chose that moment to leap in front of her in pursuit of a grasshopper. It happened too quickly for her to avoid contact with him, to dance out of the way, to regain her balance or for anything except a full-frontal plough on her stomach through red dirt. When she came to a halt she blinked and spat out the grit that had found its way into her mouth.

      Very elegant, Nicola.

      True. But she took a few seconds to savour the sweet stillness of her body until Sammy, distracted from his prey by her fall, chose that moment to plaster wet licks all across her face.

      ‘Sammy, heel!’

      Sammy immediately obeyed as a shadow fell across her.

      Oh, God! Cade. With a groan she rolled over and sat up. Why did her most undignified and humiliating moments have to occur in full public view?

      ‘Are you hurt?’

      ‘No.’

      He turned and waved some signal and that was when she saw another two men—workers of Cade’s, she supposed—standing outside the barn. They returned to work. The realisation that so many people had witnessed her pathetic attempt at fitness, not to mention her clumsiness, made her cheeks burn and her hands clench.

      ‘C’mon.’ Cade held a hand out to her.

      Scowling at him and telling him to go away obviously wasn’t an option, so she put her hand in his and let him haul her to her feet. He hitched his head in the direction of the homestead and didn’t release her until she nodded her agreement.

      Wiping the dirt from her face and the front of her T-shirt … and her shorts and her knees, she managed to avoid his eye. ‘You don’t need to escort me back.’

      ‘Are you sure about that?’

      His voice shook with laughter. She closed her eyes, more heat scorching her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what was worse—him being aware of her utter mortification or him thinking her cheeks were this red from such a pitiful amount of exercise.

      ‘I want to make sure you haven’t really hurt yourself—twisted an ankle or a knee—but you seem to be walking all right.’

      If that was a cue to make her trip up, she had every intention of disappointing him. ‘I’m fine.’ Except for a bruised ego.

      ‘Good. Then you and I are going to have words.’

      Her heart sank. Marvellous.

      He made her sit on the back steps while he inspected her knees and elbows for scratches. ‘We’re a long way from a doctor,’ he said when she started to object.

      She stared at the sky and tried to ignore the warmth of his fingers on her flesh.

      Finally he subsided onto the step beside her. ‘So what’s with the jogging?’

      Heat flared afresh in her face and neck. ‘Oh, I …’

      She had to look away. There was something about those blue eyes that saw too much. He’d laugh at her. Her lips twisted. Just like her friends in Melbourne would’ve laughed if they’d seen her earlier this morning. The butt of oh-yet-another joke.

      ‘Nicola?’

      What the hell? She lifted her chin. She was through with turning herself inside out to please other people. ‘I thought I’d take advantage of all the wide open space and fresh county air to …’ she swallowed in readiness for his laughter ‘… to try and get fit.’

      She clenched her hands. Strong in body. Strong in mind. It might not happen overnight, but she could work towards it. She could change. She gritted her teeth. Losing her fiancé to another woman did not make her a loser or a failure.

      ‘Dry dusty air at this time of year more like.’

      She didn’t say anything.

      ‘You didn’t have a water bottle with you.’

      That was when it hit her—he hadn’t laughed yet. And one look at his face told her he wasn’t going to. He didn’t think her plan of getting fit was stupid at all. Instead, he was going to tell her off for not taking a water bottle. ‘I thought with it being so early and all …’

      ‘If I see you without a water bottle the next time you go jogging, we will have serious words, you understand?’

      She swallowed and nodded.

      He frowned. ‘It’s a bit early for New Year resolutions, isn’t it?’

      ‘Getting fit and losing weight was this year’s resolution,’ she sighed. ‘I’m trying to get it in under the wire.’

      His chuckle held no malice or ridicule. It warmed her blood. ‘Getting fit is an admirable goal, but losing weight …’ He shook his head. ‘Seems to me women get too hooked up on that stuff.’

      If she’d been half a stone lighter and had taken more care with her appearance, maybe Brad wouldn’t have dumped her for Diane.

      Cade sent her a lazy appraisal from beneath heavy-lidded eyes and it did something ludicrous to her insides, made them light and fluttery. She didn’t like it.

      ‘Anyway, you look just fine to me,’ he said with a shrug.

      Her hands clenched. She didn’t want to look just fine. She wanted to be gorgeous, stunning … confident. She wanted to knock a man’s socks off.

      She had a horrid sick feeling that even if she did lose half a stone and took more care with her appearance, she would never be able to achieve that anyway.

      His eyes suddenly narrowed. ‘I don’t want you getting obsessive about your weight while you’re out here, dieting and exercising to within an inch of your life.’

      She understood where Cade’s concern came from. She wasn’t a primary school teacher for nothing. ‘I have no intention of being obsessive about anything. And I promise I will not send Ella or Holly any negative body image messages.’

      He stared at her. It made her self-conscious. She made a show of looking at her watch. ‘It’s nearly time to get Ella and Holly up for breakfast.’

      She stood and made her escape.

      When Nicola and the children entered the kitchen a short time later, it was to find Cade seated at the kitchen table too. Nicola’s appetite promptly fled.

      He glanced up. ‘You must be hungry after your morning’s exertions.’

      His words emerged with a lazy unconcern, but his eyes were keen

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