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“Helloooo, Oliviaaaa. You still there?”
Shit. I must have spaced out. I blink myself back to the present. “Yeah, sorry. Listen, I gotta finish up dinner, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t reply to you or tell you about anything. I’ll keep up with you from now on, okay?”
She snorts. “I’ll hold you to that, bish. Reese Dalton may be a hunk, but I’m your best friend. So nyah!”
I grin. “Yes, you are. And I couldn’t ask for a better one.”
17
OLIVIA
“Look at you, Violet!” I coo. “Such a pretty girl.”
Me, on the other hand—not so much. My hair is a mess, my pajamas baggy and disheveled. It’s barely light outside, but when a baby is hungry, she’s hungry. She couldn’t care less about how deep in La La Land I was.
Yet I’m all smiles.
I couldn’t share with Quinn just how much I love being around this little girl. I know that she wants all the details on Reese. I know that she would love to hear about the attraction simmering there.
But the thing I really want to gush about is Violet. Having her to myself all week, we’ve become best friends. ViVi and Via, forever and ever. My heart skips every time she looks at me. It’s like she recognizes me. Who I am. What I’ve been through.
I know that it’s a double-edged sword. If I fall in love with her, it’ll just hurt that much when Reese decides I’m not needed anymore. But that’s a problem for future Olivia, right?
Bouncing her in my arms, I hum to her. She’s been fed, burped, and changed, and now, she’s happy as can be. Her face is bright, cheeks red with joy as she giggles. She’s full of pep today, definitely not going to sleep any time soon. That’s fine. I can handle early risers. Besides, Reese is coming home any minute, which means I’ll be able to grab a nap at some point.
“That’s right,” I murmur, bopping her on her button nose. “Your daddy’s coming home today! I bet he’ll be happy to see you.”
At least, I hope he is.
I move over to her nursery window and sink to a seat on the sill. “Why don’t we wait and see when he’ll be home? Will you wave to him with me, pretty girl?”
Violet lets out a peal of giggles. I do hope that Reese gets more comfortable with her. My being here so much is good given how busy he is, but it won’t get him anywhere with his daughter if he never gets the chance to bond with her.
Two iterations of Itsy Bitsy Spider later, I see a bit of motion outside. The glint of light off the rim of a car as it pulls up to the front of Reese’s home.
I smile, turning Violet so she can see. “Look! It’s your daddy!”
Tom gets out and Reese emerges a moment after, going to the trunk to fetch his luggage. It’s kind of amusing—all that money for a driver, but he’s actually getting his own bags. Weirdly endearing.
For some reason, there’s a flutter in my chest as I watch him. What, just because he’s getting his own bags? Come on, Olivia. The bar cannot possibly be that low.
But there’s something in the purposeful way he moves. He pushes his hair back out of his face, and even from here, I catch a look of deep concentration.
Suddenly, he pauses. Like he can feel my gaze on him. When he turns around, he immediately looks up to where I’m watching with Violet.
My heart kicks into high gear. Thump, thump, thump. Our eyes are locked. Swallowing hard, I take Violet’s hand and wave it at him. There’s a little part of me that thinks, Maybe this will encourage him to be home more.
In my mind, I envisioned him grinning back up at me. He would wave and jog into the house and up those stairs. Excited to see his daughter, he’d run down the hall and scoop her up in his arms. Reese would be just as enchanted by her high, pretty giggles as I am. He’d bump his nose against hers and cuddle her to his chest.
He’d make me swoon.
… None of that happens.
Reese stares at us for a moment, almost… dumbfounded. Like a light flicking off, his expression goes from deep in thought to outright angry. His face screws up into a wicked, ugly scowl. That’s quite the feat—I wouldn’t have thought a man with Reese Dalton’s bone structure would ever be able to look quite so hideous.
He abandons his bags and comes running in. That part matches up with my vision, at least in theory. But something about it feels wrong.
The door slams downstairs. I damn near jump into the rafters at the unexpected racket. It rattles the house, as do Reese’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
