“Daddy?” Hallie yawned.
“Yeah.” I paused in the doorway.
“Today was another ten.”
I took a bow. “Thank you, I agree.”
“Can we ride horses again tomorrow?”
“No. We’re going to Aunt Bree’s tomorrow.”
“But Winnie is coming, right?”
“She might. Go to sleep.”
Leaving the light on in the hall for them, I went back downstairs to clean up the mess we’d left in the kitchen. We’d made our own pizzas for dinner, and there was sauce and shredded cheese everywhere. Afterward, I opened a beer and sat on the couch with the television on, not really noticing what was on the screen.
It was torture to glance at the sliding door and wonder if Winnie was out on her patio. Should I go out there? If she was sitting at her table, should I invite her over? If she accepted my invitation, could I keep my hands to myself?
Frowning, I took a long swallow from the bottle and picked up a couch pillow, holding it to my chest. It bothered me how badly I’d wanted to keep touching her today. How often I’d caught myself staring at her mouth. How many times I thought about inviting her over for dinner tonight.
But it was bad enough I’d impulsively invited her to come to Bree’s tomorrow. After what I’d said to Justin, he was going to give me a whole bunch of shit for bringing her—and I’d deserve it. But I liked being around Winnie. She was always upbeat and she made me laugh. She called me out on my bullshit and I could say things to her I couldn’t say to anyone else. I felt like she understood my situation because of the way she’d grown up, and she didn’t judge me when I got frustrated or angry. She had no stake in it—she wasn’t going to use anything against me later. She just listened.
And I liked listening to her too. She got so excited when she talked about the dinner she was planning with her friend or ideas she had for events at her potential new job. I liked hearing stories about her family too—it was obvious she was close to them and that she’d had a happy childhood despite her real mom leaving when she was so young. I found myself curious about her dad and kind of wanted to meet him.
Not to mention how damn good she was to my girls, and how they’d taken to her like she was a long-lost aunt or something.
Plus, she had those lips and that tongue and the sweetest curves known to man.
Yes, she was young, but I even liked the things that reminded me of her age—like her adorable laugh or the bounce in her step or the way she and the girls used slang words or talked about songs or celebrities I’d never fucking heard of.
I took another sip and stood up. Moving slowly, like I wasn’t even sure where I was heading, I went out on the patio. Standing there for a second in the dark, I drank again and then looked over to the right.
She wasn’t out there, and her lights were off.
Disappointed, I went back inside.
The next day, I sent Hallie and Luna over to knock on Winnie’s door while I backed the car out of the garage. She came out a minute later carrying a brown paper bag. She was wearing a yellow crop top, denim shorts with daisies on them, and white sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked sexy and sweet, even younger than usual. My heart revved like an engine.
They piled into the car and buckled up. “Hi,” she said, setting the bowl and bag at her feet.
“Hey. You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“It’s just some guacamole and chips. Nothing fancy.”
“But I’m not bringing anything. You’re making me look bad.”
She laughed. “You’re bringing me. I got you.”
When we arrived at Bree and Justin’s house, we walked around to the yard, where they were sitting on the deck with some other friends, watching their kids run around on the lawn with squirt guns and water balloons.
Hallie and Luna immediately ran out to join them, while I introduced Winnie to the adults. My sister jumped up to get her a drink, and Justin, who was holding the baby over his shoulder, grinned at me knowingly.
I resisted the urge to flip him off.
While Winnie set the guacamole and chips on the table, I went inside to grab a beer and found my sister pouring a glass of wine.
After prying the cap off the beer bottle, I stole a cherry tomato from a big bowl of pasta salad on the counter.
“Hey.” She slapped my knuckles. “Keep your hands out of the food.”
“I’m hungry.”
“We’ll eat soon. What time do you have to have the girls back?”
“Six. But I’m sure Naomi will be texting me by four that it’s their first school night of the year and I should have them back sooner.”