Feeling emotions I hadn’t expected to feel, I looked up from Dylan and into Marco’s eyes and choked out, “He’s beautiful.”

Marco’s hand flexed in Dylan’s and he glanced down at his son with an adoring look of pride. “Yeah.”

Just like that, I remembered the awkwardness of being around him and I covered my uneasiness with a glare. “There are hundreds of day care centers in Edinburgh. This one? Really?”

Marco’s grin was slightly wicked. “Looks like the universe wants me to win as well.”

I would have responded with something cheeky or curt, except for the fact that Dylan was there. Not to mention that Marco couldn’t quite hide the sadness in the back of his eyes with those teasing smiles of his.

Not wanting to deal with how that made me feel, I glanced down at Dylan again. He kept looking between his dad and me, clearly wondering who I was.

“Dylan,” Marco caught his attention again, “this is Hannah. Hannah, this is Dylan.”

I smiled at Marco’s mini-me. “Hi, Dylan.”

He shifted a little closer to his dad’s leg. “Hi,” he replied quietly and clutched a soft toy to his chest. On closer inspection I realized the toy was a miniature of Sulley from Pixar’s Monsters, Inc.

I swear I almost melted all over the floor. “Sulley is one of my favorites.” I gestured to the toy.

Dylan’s eyes widened slightly.

“Do you like Lightning McQueen too?” I referenced the hero of the Pixar movie Cars.

Dylan nodded.

“He loves Pixar movies.” Marco smiled softly. “You and he would get on great.”

I knew my smile was a little sad when I replied, “He’s fantastic. I think everything turned out the way it was supposed to for you, Marco.”

Determination etched his features. “It’s not all done turning itself out. Obviously.”

There wasn’t really a way to reply to that, but I didn’t have to. An attractive brunette had approached, grabbing my attention. She stopped beside Marco, touching his arm to get his attention too. “You’re not leaving just yet, are you, Marco?”

Marco stared at her a second and I knew him well enough to know he was distracted by the unspoken conversation between us, so it took him a while to process what she had asked. “Uh… I’m just picking Dylan up for my weekend with him. We have other plans today.”

The woman’s gaze flicked to me, and I could see the unhappy question in it. “Marco is one of the few single dads we see at the center. As you can imagine, he’s very popular.” The question suddenly became a back-off warning as she said to me, “I haven’t seen you here before. Which little rascal is yours?”

I wanted to vomit at her fakeness, her saccharine tone. “Oh, I don’t have a kid. I just come here to see if any of the single dads are looking for a ‘playdate.’” I gave Marco an exaggerated wink. “Marco’s a good playdate. One of the best.”

She looked aghast as Marco did a horrible job of choking back his laughter. “I… uh…” She looked at him and then back to me, consternation wrinkling her brow. “I, well, I’ll… uh… see you next time then, Marco.” She backed off, hurrying across the room toward a little girl.

Marco laughed. “Playdate?”

My eyes still on the brunette, I replied, “She wants a playdate with you.” I looked back at him, my gaze turning suspicious. The ugly heat of jealousy churned in my chest like heartburn. “Maybe she’s already had one.”

“Leah and Graham only moved to Morningside two months ago, and you and I were regular playdates then. Since we stopped, there haven’t been any other playdates for me.” He raised an eyebrow as he unconsciously reassured an increasingly restless Dylan with a squeeze of his hand. “But it’s good to know you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

His grin was heated and knowing. It was a grin that reminded me of everything we’d had only a few short weeks ago.

I wrinkled my nose at him. “I have to get back to the girls.” My gaze moved to Dylan. “It was nice to meet you, Dylan. ’Bye.” I gave him a small wave.

“’Bye,” he answered with his serious little-boy expression.

Feeling emotional all over again, I whispered to Marco, “He has your eyes. He has your everything.”

The muscles in Marco’s jaw flexed, and I knew he was trying to hold himself back from saying something. To help him along, I gave them another small wave and walked away from them toward Liv and Joss.

The girls were silent as I took a seat with my back to Marco and his son.

“Is he gone?” I asked, staring doggedly ahead.

Liv looked over my shoulder. “Yeah. He just left with his beautiful little boy. Seriously? Those two together? Wow.”

“You’re crazy. You know that, right?” Joss said casually before taking a sip of a fresh cup of coffee.

“Why?”

“For giving up on a man who looks at you the way Marco does. I thought Braden could be all brooding and possessive with a single look, but Marco is in his own league.”

My heart skipped a beat, causing an unpleasant flutter in my throat. “What?”

Liv nodded her agreement. “Hannah, the look on his face when you were talking to Dylan… oh, my God, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“It was hot,” Joss added. “Possessive. Hot.”

“Tender too. Sweet. Kind of adoring.” Liv sighed.

Joss smirked. “Best. Look. Ever.”

With my heart now banging away in my chest, I threw them both a dirty look and said determinedly, “You won’t deter me with talk of hot expressions. Marco and I are over.” Now if the rest of me could just get on board with that, life would be fantastic.

I didn’t know what to expect from Marco in his attempts to win me back. I guess I expected much of the same treatment as before – unexpected appearances in all the places where I spent my spare time.

A slow seduction.

However, he threw me off guard with his next move. So much so, it tripped me up completely.

I gathered from one of my second-year boy’s comments on his essay for A Midsummer Night’s Dream that he wasn’t enjoying our current lesson plan. I think it was the “Puck is a wanker” comment that really tipped me off.

I underlined the comment with a red pen and wrote in the margin beside it, “Give examples to explain why you reached this conclusion.” We would discuss in person his inappropriate use of profanity to express himself. We did that on a weekly basis, so that was nothing new.

Feeling an ache in my upper back from sitting on my living room floor marking essays for the past two hours, I pulled my shoulders back and sighed in satisfaction at the soft crack of my bones. Grimacing, I looked at the clock. It was almost nine. I should really get up before my arse fell asleep, but I had only a few more papers to mark before I could say I was caught up.

The flat was so quiet that my heart jumped right into my throat when my doorbell rang. Not my building door buzzer. My front doorbell.

Wondering who it could be at this time of night, I cautiously walked out into the hall toward the door on my tiptoes. Feeling weirdly skittish, I nervously put my eye to the peephole. Looking very far away in the small circle of glass was Marco.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

He knocked. “Hannah?”

I felt confused and wary, but at the same time I felt relieved that it was Marco on the other side of the door and that I was safe.

Upon opening the door I parted my lips to ask him how he’d gotten into the building, but the question was swallowed as he crushed his mouth down on mine, wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed inside. I clung to him in surprise, hearing the slam of my door behind him.

Then, just like that, the taste, smell, and feel of him overwhelmed me and I was kissing him back.

My feet left the ground as he lifted me, only to plant my bottom on top of the sideboard in my hall. He pressed himself between my legs and I instinctively wrapped them around his hips. His kiss was demanding, hard and drugging, and all rational thought fled as I kissed him back with equal fervor. All my body knew was that it had missed this.