Page 10 of Tempted By the Single Dad Mechanic
I bite back a smile as Riley launches into what sounds like a well-rehearsed argument about responsibility and how she's "basically almost five" and very mature for her age.
Casey catches my eye and shakes his head slightly, but he's smiling
This is a terrible idea. Not the staying-at-his-house part. Okay, maybe that too, but the noticing part. The finding-him-attractive part. Because guys like Casey don't look at girls like me. Not really. Not in the way that matters.
I've made my peace with that. I have. It's just... sometimes it would be nice to be wrong.
"So," Casey says, clearly trying to change the subject from turtles. "How long have you been traveling?"
"Six months," I answer, grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts. "Give or take."
"That's a long time to be on the road."
"Yeah."
I can feel him waiting for more, an explanation, maybe, or a story about what I'm running from. Because people are always running from something, right? That's what they say about people who live in their cars and drift from town to town.
But I'm not running from anything.
I'm running toward something. Or I was, before my car died.
Toward the dream Annie and I built together in late-night conversations and saved Pinterest boards. Toward all the places we promised we'd see. Toward some kind of peace with the fact that she's gone and I'm still here.
"It's nice," I finally add. "Seeing new places. Meeting new people."
It's not a lie, exactly. But it's not the whole truth either.
Riley pipes up again: "Have you been to the ocean? I've never been to the ocean but Daddy says maybe next summer we can go and I can learn to swim in the waves."
"I have," I tell her. "A few times, actually. I started in California and worked my way east."
"Did you see whales?"
"No whales. But I saw sea lions once."
"What's a sea lion?"
Casey glances at me with an apologetic expression, like he's sorry his kid asks so many questions, but I don't mind. Riley'seasy to talk to. No filter, no judgment, just genuine curiosity about everything.
I explain sea lions while we drive through the center of town, past the diner Riley mentioned earlier and a small park with swings and a gazebo. Everything is painted in that golden late-afternoon light that makes even ordinary things look magical.
Blackwater Falls is the kind of town that looks like it fell out of a Hallmark movie. Tree-lined streets, brick storefronts, people waving to each other from across the road. It's aggressively charming in a way that should feel fake but somehow doesn't.
Annie would have loved it here.
The thought hits me sudden and sharp, and I have to look out the window and blink hard.
"You okay?" Casey asks quietly.
"Yeah. Fine. Just... it's a really pretty town."
He doesn't push, which I appreciate. Just nods and turns down a side street lined with small houses, each one with a porch and a yard and the kind of lived-in coziness that comes from being someone's home, not just a place they sleep.
We pull into the driveway of a pale yellow house with white trim and a porch that has a swing and several potted plants. There's a basketball hoop above the garage and a small garden bed along the walkway, though whatever was planted there has mostly gone to weeds.
It's perfect. Of course it's perfect.
"Home sweet home," Casey says, killing the engine.
