Free The Single Dad's Marriage Wish (Bachelor Dads) by Carol Marinelli Page B

supermarket, I’ll write a list. Tell me what you like, what Bailey likes—oh, his nappies are getting low and we’re running out of washing powder. Write down what type you use—’
    ‘Okay, okay.’
    ‘Do you need any toiletries—what brand?’
    ‘I get the message, Charlotte.’
    ‘What message?’
    ‘We’ll all go. I just need to change Bailey’s nappy first.’
    ‘Brilliant.’ Charlotte beamed, rummaging in that blessed bag and pulling out her car keys. ‘I’ll drive!’
    On cue, Bailey waddled in and didn’t go directly to his dad, instead aiming straight for Charlotte. As she bent over to pick him up it was impossible not to notice the soft flesh of her breasts threatening to spill out of her flimsy nightdress.
    ‘Er, Charlotte…’ He stared at her, Bailey balancedon one hip, her face flushed from the exertion of unloading the horses, without a scrap of make-up, dark curls tied up in knots from the absence of a brushing, still in that nighty and gumboots, and he’d never seen her more beautiful. It was impossible not to smile, impossible not to adore her and impossible not to wonder if she were wearing any panties! ‘Shouldn’t you get dressed first?’
    She stared down, aghast. ‘Heavens, yes!’ Plonking Bailey down, she ran to the stairs as she called out to him over her shoulder. ‘I’d have gone, you know—if you hadn’t told me I’d be walking around the supermarket…’
    Her voice faded as she climbed the stairs, but instead of changing Bailey’s nappy, instead of trying to locate his wallet or checking the pantry for what was needed—everything—Hamish just stood there…
    ‘Dar-dot!’ Bailey stared at his dad, as if reading his mind. ‘Want Dar-dot.’
    ‘I know the feeling, buddy,’ Hamish said under his breath, then, picking up his son, he stared at the muddy footprints her gumboots had left the length of the hallway—like some decadent yellow brick road that he was tempted to follow. Her dog and cat sat forlornly at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her to come down, and at that moment both he and Bailey could have joined them.
    She’d spun into his world on her own self-fuelled tornado, filled his empty home with animals, laughter and gentle bullying—it was eight o’clock on a Saturday morning and here they were, heading for the shops. Thespare room was painted, Bailey far happier than he ever had been, and as for Hamish…
    His stomach tightened with lust and something else which at the moment he couldn’t define, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
    His good mood soon evaporated. For Hamish there was nothing attractive about Saturday morning at a super-market—early they might be, but every family in town had had the same idea and it took for ever to find a parking spot, then, attempting to pull out a trolley he discovered that since last he’d done this, he now needed a coin—which did nothing to add to his distracted and slightly testy mood. But Charlotte was in her element, loading Bailey into his little throne and steering her trolley like a woman on a mission.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Hamish snapped, as she replaced the loaf of bread he had picked up and replaced it with two of a different brand.
    ‘Buy one, get one free!’ Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out a huge silver bulldog clip holding together bundles of paper. ‘Coupons!’
    ‘ You cut out shopping coupons!’
    ‘Of course I do! We’re not all on a consultant’s salary.’
    ‘This is bad enough, Charlotte, without having to…’ He peered through the mountain of coupons she had diligently clipped. ‘We’ll be here for ever.’
    ‘So relax and enjoy it!’
    Easier said than done.
    ‘Hamish!’ Well groomed, well dressed and, well, just a little pushy, one of the mums from crèche caught up with him as he was wrestling a huge box of nappiesfrom the top shelf, as opposed to the small pack he usually purchased, while Charlotte checked out the gum gel. ‘No luck with the