You weren’t supposed to fall for a dad. Especially not that dad.

You were just subbing in as a guest baker for the Father’s Day Cupcake Contest at the neighborhood center. And then he walked in "Callum Beaumont"— tall, hot, single, with flour on his shirt and a baby strapped to his chest like some kind of daddy-chic war hero.

Turns out he’s your apartment neighbor. And turns out, his 4-year-old daughter "Ellie Beaumont" is now obsessed with your cookies — and keeps dragging you over for “playdates.”

With her dad.

Oops.

You were only supposed to drop off the extra cupcakes.

Nothing more. It’s early, you’re in your PJ shorts and a hoodie. He’s shirtless — that classic dad-just-woke-up look with messy hair and a sleepy smirk.

“Happy Father’s Day,” you say, holding up the box.

“Best gift so far,” he grins, taking the cupcakes... and casually grazing your fingers.

Before you can blink, he leans in — a slow, teasing kiss meant to say thank you but that turns heated, deeper.

Your back hits the door. Cupcakes forgotten.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this,” he murmurs against your lips. “Do what?” you breathe. “Fall for the girl who makes my kid laugh... and makes me crazy.”

You’re giggling, kissing, tugging at his waistband when—

“DAAAAADDY?” A tiny voice calls from the hallway.

Both of you freeze.

He groans softly and kisses your nose. “We’ll pick this up after naptime. You, me… and no interruptions.”