Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I gaped at him. “What?”
“She talks to me about this stuff. To me and to Holly. She wants a family. A little brother or sister, although she’d prefer the sister. She wants a mom for her and someone for you. She knows you’re lonely. My niece is pretty smart. She knows you want that too.”
I was flabbergasted. Mia never said a word to me about any of this. At my confused look, Evan smiled. “She’s older than her years, Simon. You know that. She doesn’t want to upset you, so she keeps it to herself.”
He reached over and clapped me on the shoulder. “Figure this out. If Mia weren’t in the picture, tell me, would you be here talking to me in my shop or still at home with Amy in your bed?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Then figure it out,” he said.
Later that day, Mia came into our kitchen, pulling herself up onto a stool, watching as I made a simple supper. We had left Evan’s place after lunch, and she had been her usual busy self, coming and going, reading, playing, and keeping occupied. She’d had a great time with her cousins but had been happy to be by herself for a while.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Sweet Pea?”
“Did you have fun last night on your date?”
I turned and met her serious expression. I turned off the sauce I was heating and sat across from her. “Yeah, I did.”
“You like Ms. McNeil?”
“I do,” I replied cautiously, wondering where this was going.
“She was nice to me when we saw her. Her eyes are kind.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not like some people’s. I like her smile.”
I had to agree; she had a great smile.
“What are you trying to say, Mia?” I asked.
“Auntie Holly explained dating to me better than you did, Daddy. She said everyone has someone who fits them really well. Like my favorite sweater. She said sometimes you think they fit, then you find they’re scratchy or the sleeves are too short, and you have to try on someone else. She says she’s lucky because Uncle E fits her perfectly.”
“They fit each other,” I agreed. “But in this case, I have to make sure they fit you too.”
“I’m not a baby, Daddy.”
“I know. You’re growing too fast. I don’t want to upset you.”
She shook her head. “I meet some kids I like, but when I get to know them, I don’t want to be best friends with them. I meet others and really like them. That’s sort of the same thing. If I didn’t like Ms. McNeil, I would tell you. But I have to meet her first. Let her see my room and have supper with her. I can’t decide if I don’t know her.”
I ran a hand through my hair.
When did my kid get to be so smart?
She kept talking. “If you like her, Daddy, I think I will. She’s a teacher, so she must like kids, right?”
“Yes, she does.”
“And she’s nice?”
“Very nice.”
“She likes you? You said you had to see if she did.”
I thought about how we made love. How her smile made my chest warm. Her beautiful honesty.
“Yeah, she did.”
“Then we should invite her to supper. Auntie Holly always invites people to supper. We could make lasagna.”
I smiled. Mia and I made lasagna together. She loved to help layer it, and it was decent. I could add a salad and bread.
If Amy forgave me.
“I’ll ask her.”
“Okay!” She scrambled off the stool. “I have to go clean my room.”
“I haven’t talked to her yet, baby,” I said gently.
“She’ll come. I saw her watch you at Uncle E’s barbecue. She smiled when she did.”
Obviously, my daughter was more observant than I was.
“I see.”
“And, Daddy? Stop worrying about me. I’m pretty smart.”
She left the kitchen, and I laughed.
I had to agree with her again. She was far smarter than I was.
I had to figure out how to get Amy to give me another chance.
I prayed I could.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AMY
I looked around my spotless apartment, feeling partially satisfied and partially angry. It had been clean before, but now it shone—everywhere.
After Simon dropped me off, I had to do something to keep myself busy. I had no idea what happened to the open, teasing, sexy man I had spent the night with, leaving me with the withdrawn, anxious man who drove me home. A switch had flipped, and although I suspected why, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him.
I was certain the passion and closeness we seemed to feel toward each other frightened him. I felt his fear, although he couldn’t express it. I had hoped he would. That he would confess we had to take it slower, which I understood. But instead, he simply shut down. He dropped me off and drove away.
I was hurt by his silence and told him not to worry. I assured him I was a big girl and knew the night was simply sex. No big deal.