Page 71 of Just Ten Seconds

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor.” He thumbs toward the stores behind him.

I raise a brow in interest.

“Can I solicit your help in purchasing a bra?”

“A bra?”

If this man asks me to go to Victoria’s Secret with him to pick out undergarments for another woman, I think I’m going to lose my mind, which is ridiculous because he’s not mine and we only shared one kiss.

“For Amanda,” he explains.

“She’s only eight.”

“She wants one. When she has to change in front of other kids, she gets uncomfortable.” He looks like the uncomfortable one.

“That’s understandable. Sure, but it’s not that hard. There’re no cup sizes or anything.”

“Please don’t bring up cup sizes when talking about my daughter. I am not ready for that. At all. The fact I’m even doing this has me looking at her toddler pictures and wondering when she got big enough for a training bra.”

My heart pushes to the front of my chest as I look at his sincere smile. I let out a sigh. “If it makes you feel better, she is in no way ready for a training bra, but you’re a really good dad. Let’s go pick her out something special.”

We walk into a children’s store on Main Street and navigate through the racks of sequin T-shirts and tie-dye leggings. If you’d told me the eighties were coming back into style, I would have held on to my Trapper Keeper and rainbow scrunchies.

“I haven’t seen you around the theater,” I say as we walk up to the underwear section.

“Amanda doesn’t want me to watch the rehearsals. She wants the show to be a surprise. Plus, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I’ve been working on Ursula’s sea cave. My workshop is covered in black and neon-green paint. Not to mention, glitter. So much glitter.”

“You are one of a kind, Dean Delgado. It’s all going to pay off. If it’s anything like what you showed me, you’re gonna wow everyone. As is Amanda.”

“She practices in her room. I’ve been listening, even when she tells me not to.”

“Oh, Dean. She’s … she’s really amazing. Not just in theater. She’s kind. Last week, there was a kid who was nervous, didn’t want to come onstage. She gave her a ‘magic’ fin and held her hand the entire practice. She even told the kid she could keep her fin. Hence the extra tulle. I’m making a matching fin for her mini Flounder.” I beam up at him. “You are doing a great job with her.”

“You’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks.” I smash my lips as I look at his.

He’s gazing at me like he was that night on the dance floor, and I’m thankful we’re in the middle of a children’s store, or I might be tempted to do something I shouldn’t.

“How about this one?” I hold up a training bra.

“Not black. Black is for when she’s thirty.” He takes it from my hand and puts it back on the rack.

“Okay. White it is.” I hold up two more and showcase each one for him. “Tiny rosebud or little bow.”

“Neither.”

I drop my hands. “You’re the one who wanted to do this.” I look at the two training bras and decide on the one with the rosebud. “This one. It’s sweet.”

“What size?”

“Just get her regular bathing suit size.”

“Right.” He nods.

I spy a shirt on the far wall with a mermaid fade-out of sequins and hold up the hanger. When you flip the sequins over, the colors change. “Oh, she’d love this!”

Dean appears behind me. “Let’s get it.” There’s also a matching backpack with the letter A in the middle. “What about this too?”