Heart Strings & Hotlines (Single Dad Hotline #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

THANE

One Month Ago

How it began…

“Are you sure Lottie’s here?” I ask my designated Single Dad Hotline helper, Rowan. When I first heard about this…service, I thought it was a hookup site, which for me would have been perfect.

No attempts at small talk, just matched with someone and bam, hookup, call it a night, and go home.

That’s not what this is.

The Single Dad Hotline is a network of helpers for actual single dads, and now that I have temporary custody of my thirteen-year-old sister, I fall into that category.

I’m also failing spectacularly.

Me—the one who never fails at anything unless it involves another human being—and I’m now in charge of an emotionally unstable teenager.

To say that Kara and I are not getting on very well is the understatement of the century. Last night, she blocked her bedroom door with her dresser because I threatened to remove it if she slammed the damn thing one more time.

Rowan was not particularly helpful over the phone, and now I’m here, in the North Carolina woods of all places, at a kiddie camp event, where she and Lottie are matching single dads to their potential nannies.

The number of people roaming about makes my skin burn as though it’s being sliced off with a razor blade. I miss the silence of my office.

Rowan stops walking and stares at me. “Yes, Thane, she’s here. Why are you so interested in her anyway?”

That’s easy. I want her science, her algorithms, and more importantly, her instincts behind her matchmaker test.

“I wish to speak to her about the science behind her test. It’s truly remarkable, what she’s accomplished, and I thrive on information. I like to know how things work.”

She laughs and sounds like a donkey, making my eyelid twitch annoyingly. Couple her braying with the scent of dirt that lingers everywhere, and I’m holding on by a thread.

“Good luck with that. She’s super guarded about her property.”

That’s smart…and also unfortunate news for me.

“Where would I find her?”

This little wisp of a woman has balls the size of Texas as she stands with her hands on her hips. My best friend, Rafe, does this when he’s annoyed with me. Come to think of it, so does my little sister, Kara. Hands on hips means someone is annoyed with me.

How the hell did I annoy her ?

Slipping my notebook from my pocket, I remove the pencil from the spiral at the top, flip to a new page and write: Wear earplugs around Rowan .

“Why are you really looking for her?”

Jesus, her voice is grating. I shake my head and slip my notebook back into my pocket. “I already told you.” It’s taking all my willpower to stand here for this inane conversation. If Rowan were my employee, I would order her to give me the information.

How do I make her my employee?

An ear-piercing bell rings out around the camp.

Fucking annoying. All of it.

“It’s time for lunch, everyone. Finish up with your current prospect and make your way over to the mess hall.”

I recognize Lottie’s voice from her website. I’ve listened to her explain her process no fewer than one hundred times.

It makes no logical sense, but her voice quiets my inner narrator. He never truly shuts up, but it’s more a whisper in the background when she’s speaking than the constant gnat buzzing in my head.

“I take it she’s in the office. Thank you, sort of.” Thank God I don’t have to stick around here anymore. I’m still twitchy from Rowan’s laugh.

“Boundaries, Thane. I know you know what that means.” But her words hit my back as I head toward Lottie and the source of that PA system.

Yeah, I know what boundaries are. I simply choose to interact with so few people that I rarely have to implement them—that’s what I pay people for.

The gravel pathway that leads to the camp office crunches beneath my shoes. This place is run-down, and I hate it. I swear, if I catch some parasite from one of these wild children running around, I won’t be happy.

I round the corner to the office but stop when I hear my sister, Kara. Is she laughing?

Laughing equals happy. Sometimes laughing equals frustrated or nervous.

Emotions are too damn messy, but Kara is the exception to all my rules. She has been since the moment our father and my stepmother brought her home from the hospital. She’s the messy rainbow in my perfectly organized black-and-white life, even if her attitude may kill me.

Wait a minute. I unlock my phone to pull up the schedule we were given. Kara’s supposed to be in arts and crafts.

“I’m sure it’s not all bad.” Lottie’s voice washes over me, and I inch closer to the window.

“Trust me, it is. But I don’t think it’s all his fault.” Kara’s talking so softly that I have to press my ear to the screen to hear. The scrape of the metal against my skin sends a cold shudder through me, and I move back slightly.

If Kara always spoke this way, we wouldn’t have half of our issues. Lately she’s been a wild thing, constantly waving her arms in the air—it’s so distracting. How the hell am I supposed to pay attention to what she’s saying when her body language is so erratic?

“What do you mean?” Lottie asks.

“He’s…different.”

Different.

Right.

My sister knows I’m fucking…different. Until recently, she was the only one in my family who had never treated me like a pariah.

“Different, how?”

“Okay, like, he doesn’t get mad. I mean, he does, but doesn’t change his voice—everything is barked like an order. It’s weird. And he never cries. He never, ever laughs?—”

“I laugh.” The words are rough in my throat as I stomp around the building to the front door.

Kara’s eyes are wide when I enter, but she makes herself so small. I want to tell her to stand up, be big, but I don’t know how that would go over, so I stay silent. Instead, I focus on Lottie and completely lose my train of thought.

I’ve studied her in pictures.

But this isn’t the same—it’s unexpected. And I loathe the unexpected.

Most of the time.

“Thane, I presume.” Her lips twitch, stealing my attention.

The nuances of human emotions are a language I’ve never cared to learn, but perhaps I was too hasty in that decision because I want to study every curve of her face until I’m fluent.

I seal my lips together, so I don’t say the thought running through my mind— I want to fuck you . My cheek burns with the echo of a sting, remembering what happened the last time those four little words left my lips.

Funny that I can’t even remember what that woman looked like.

But there’s something about Lottie Sinclair that’s searing the vision of her into my eyeballs. I feel it as though I’ve stared straight at the sun for too long.

Her long dark hair is piled on top of her head with strands sticking every which way as though she just rolled out of bed, and it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, which is unnerving. I prefer everything to be in order—neat and tidy.

“Thane, say hello.” Kara nudges me in the back. “See, Lottie? I told you.”

Lottie’s crystal clear blue eyes sparkle more than the Christmas tree Rafe left up in our apartment year-round to mess with me.

“Thane Wilder.” I force the words through tight lips.

She holds out a hand, and I tell my body to comply and shake it.

When she slips her small hand into mine, the bubbling in my chest shoots through my veins—an electric current that transfers her calm energy into my chaos.

I release the handshake and clasp both of my hands behind my back.

No more touching.

“I’ve heard of you, Thane. And if you’re anything like your father, I’ll have to find the best nanny in the country—no offense.”

“I do take offense to that.” My father is a problem.

“Geez, Thane. It’s a joke.” Kara steps closer to my side. It isn’t until I peer down at her frowning face that I understand I’ve missed something. When she bites her bottom lip, it’s all but confirmed.

Story of my life, so I do as I always do. I ignore it and move on. That’s the joy of being the boss. I don’t have to wade through emotional shit. I pay other people to do it, and it’s worked out just fine, until Kara came to live with me.

“I’m nothing like my father.” Kara and I share his light brown hair and green eyes, but that’s where the similarities end.

Kara sighs, frustrating me further. Why would Lottie offending me be a joke?

“That’s good to know.” Lottie smiles, as if offending me is her favorite pastime.

“I want her,” Kara says, her voice carrying more loudly than her tiny stature would suggest. I think she’s too small for her age, but what the fuck do I know about teenagers?

“Oh, that’s very sweet, Kara. But I’m not a nanny.” Lottie places a hand on my sister’s shoulder. “But I can help you find the perfect one.”

“I will only accept the best for Kara.”

Kara slaps her palm to her forehead.

Until she moved in with me, we’d only spent small snippets of time together. Generally, it entailed me entering my father’s home once a week when he was out to ensure that she was safe and well cared for.

Most of the time, she would smile at me and blab on about her day while I stared at her as though she were speaking in a foreign language and I only understood every fourth word. Then I’d make a list in my notebook of anything she needed, give her a small gift, and leave.

Food. Clothing. Medical care. Spending money. Check, check, check, and check. It’s been a good system, and I live by my systems.

It was easier when she was small. She’d quietly hand me a stack of drawings she’d made, hug my leg, and I’d be on my way after checking in with the housekeeper, Ophelia.

Now all the girl does is shout, whine, scowl, and slam doors.

Bringing a thirteen-year-old girl into my home has flipped my life upside down, and only time will tell if we’ll survive each other.