Rose shook her head. “Never mind. We’re going.”
At the coat check, they reclaimed their late-winter gear. He helped Bea don her fleece jacket, and then held Rose’s sleek, quilted black coat open for her.
She stared at it, then at him. “Really?”
But at that point she apparently decided to take the same approach with him as she did with her former in-laws. Without further protest, she let him ease her into the coat and draw her silky hair from beneath its collar.
When his fingertips slid along her warm, soft nape, her chin tipped back, her eyes going half-lidded, and if his daughter hadn’t been standing three feet away, he honestly had no idea what he might have done next. Stroked her nape a second time. Kissed her.
Found out whether he could earn that look again. And again.
But instead, he held the door for his two favorite ladies in the world and walked beside them into the dim parking lot. After Bea settled in his Subaru, he tossed her the keys.
“Turn on the engine and get warm,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”
For once, she didn’t offer any sass. “Sure thing. Take your time.”
Rose was already seated by the time he arrived, but he held her door for a moment. “I’m sorry. I hope we didn’t disrupt your entire evening.”
“No worries.” Under the car’s interior lights, her lashes cast lacy shadows beneath her eyes. “Dinner was fun. I hope Bea enjoyed it too. And like I said, please don’t think twice about letting Annette and Alfred pay for her.” She paused. “However, you should probably know that their performance tonight was just a warmup.”
At his alarmed look, she laughed. “Once Annette gets out her Swarovski-studded reading glasses and starts talking about whether she needs one of those adjustable beds and a walk-in bath, that’s when you know you’re really in deep shit.”
He could only imagine. “See you tomorrow at school?”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him, eyes suddenly serious. “Yeah, you will.”
After shutting her door, he watched her leave the lot.
Then he returned to Bea, hustling inside his car as quickly as possible. Funny how he hadn’t even felt the cold until just then.
“Did you enjoy your birthday dinner, sweet Bea?” He backed out of the parking space. “I hope you didn’t regret joining Ms. Owens and her family.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I had a great time. The food was amazing, and Annette and Alfred were hilarious.”
“And Ms. Owens?”
“I like her.” A simple, firm statement. “I’ve always liked her.”
He thought back to earlier in the evening. Discussions of truffle risotto. Black clothing. “Do you talk to her a lot?”
He didn’t disapprove, by any means. But like any teenager, Bea occasionally missed social cues, and he wanted to ensure she hadn’t made Rose uncomfortable or imposed on her.
Bea lifted a shoulder. “A couple times a week, maybe. Sometimes I see her in the hall, and we chat for a little while.”
“About which restaurants are most likely to bankrupt your college fund?”
“About a little of everything.” Bea paused for a moment, and then twisted toward him in an abrupt movement. “Even about you, the other day.”
Well, that was news to frighten any man. “All right.”
“I was complaining about how you always make me go to bed early so I get enough sleep, and I slipped up and called you Old Sobersides.” In his peripheral vision, he caught her grimace. “I’m sorry.”
He darted a quick, reassuring smile her way. “I told you not to worry about that.”
“I know. But I won’t do it again.” His daughter wiggled, settling herself more firmly in the seat. “Anyway, that’s not the interesting part. The interesting part is what she said.”
He wasn’t certain he wanted to know, but Bea was going to tell him one way or another. “What did she say?”
