“That’s it?” His voice dropped into a note of suspicion. “What’s the catch?”

“You are, obviously.”

He tilted his head in a question, one brow raised. The arch of that brow was so cool, so debonair, it forced a laugh out of her. This man had no idea what kind of effect he had on women. He probably had no idea how dangerous it was for him to saunter around in the cold without a shirt on, either. Or even with one on. He wouldn’t be standing there in a skintight thermal and faded jeans, his feet in fuzzy red socks, if he did.

“You don’t think it’s a little bit weird that every unattached mom in your life is on the prowl?” she asked.

For the first time since she’d met Ford, he looked more flustered than she felt, the tips of his ears glowing adorably pink. He glanced away. “They’re not on the prowl. It’s just a game we play. It’s not easy, meeting people when you have children.”

She almost snorted. “Helen’s cute. She could swipe right and have plenty of men lining up to introduce themselves.”

“It’s not like that. Our kids go to the same school.”

“Oh, is that what people find attractive? Proximity and shared bake-sale duties? No wonder I’m still single. I’ve been going about this all wrong.” She shook her head, amazed that such a seemingly intelligent man could be so dense. “Ford, you’re a single dad. You’re gainfully employed. You have the face of a Skarsgård and the body of a Hemsworth. And from everything I’ve been able to glean, you’ll flirt with anything that has a pulse.”

The pink had yet to die down from his ears, but he regained some of his composure. It was accompanied by a mischievous smile she didn’t trust. “I didn’t quite catch that bit about the Hemsworths,” he said.

Lila opted for the high road. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Or the bit with the Skarsgårds.”

“You’re missing the point.” She leveled him with a careful stare, her breathing only slightly hitched. The look he was giving her was so eager, so hungry that it was no wonder he had all of the women in this neighborhood at his feet. “Most men go through life without sending every female they meet into a flutter.”

“But every woman doesn’t go into a flutter,” he pointed out. “You didn’t.”