"Seriously? I mean, come on…" Tess says from nearby, her voice sterner than I've heard it before. I still can't see her, but I can't quite make out Ruthie's expression either as she turns her head, presumably following Tess's movement.
My guard instantly shoots up, the plastic between my thumb and forefinger now clenched as tightly as I can manage considering its size. I step closer to the phone, ready to go to war for my little girl over whatever it is she seems to have done. Then, Tessa speaks again, her voice closer this time.
"If you're going to eat your dad's dessert, at least split it with me."
Ruthie snorts out a laugh, looking at the camera with a guilty expression. I part my lips to ask her what the hell is going on, when Tess comes into the frame. Well,shedoesn't—at least not all of her. But her body from the shoulders down comes into view as she hip-bumps Ruthie, the end of her braid swinging behind her.
"What? I thought you were full," Ruthie mumbles through her chewing.
"You're the only one full around here—full of bologna if you think I'm not stealing a bite of that thing now that it's opened."
Ruthie giggles as Tessa reaches in front of her, but I stop caring about what they're joking over, my eyes managing to find the sliver of skin between Tessa's jeans and her shirt as she turns to walk away.
"Still so good," she moans, her voice somewhat… seductive?
It continues to surprise me—when I actually notice a woman. But I'm getting pretty used to noticingher. Of course, I know a pretty face when I see one. A nice body or straight white smile is hard to miss. But I've never had much trouble quickly moving past it—a young daughter will help with that in more ways than one. She's my priority, and even tempting myself with attraction would only lead to time taken away from her. But she's also my heart—and my baby—and imagining anyone looking at her like that kills me.
Still, Tessa's been hard to shake since the first moment I saw her.
"Dad, I haven't been to a game all week," Ruthie complains, bringing me back to the moment. She licks her finger of whatever they were fake-fighting over, and I go back to unbuttoning my jersey.
"You had soccer," I say curtly.
"Just that one night."
"Yeah, well…" I undo one button, my mind racing back to the one I saw on Tess's jeans. "Other days you had school, and today you had art therapy with Nellie."
She stares at me blankly. "Like I do every week."
I focus on the task at hand, finally opening my jersey, buying myself time to find my next excuse. "I just wanted Tessa to get settled," I eventually say, allowing the sleeves to fall down my arms. "And for you guys to get into a good routine before she started bringing you to games."
Ruthie plops onto the stool she's been standing next to at the island and takes the phone into her hand. "Okay, well, we're good now. Right, Tess?"
She flips the phone around as I step out of my uniform pants, the camera wonky and tilted, a blur of kitchen taking up the picture. Ifind myself searching for whatever—whoever—she may be pointing the camera at, when Tess comes into view, her arms outstretched as she grabs the device.
She settles the phone, her eyes raking over what must be my image on the screen. Suddenly, I'm very aware of my sweaty, dark green Gators compression shirt and shorts. They cling to my every peak and valley, and judging by how hard she swallows—her eyes traveling from top to bottom—Tessa is too.
"Yeah, we're good."
"Great," I say simply, frozen in place.
She forces a smile and lifts one shoulder. "Great," she repeats.
The next thing I know, the phone is flying back toward Ruthie, who must have pulled it from Tess's hand. "Great." She raises her brows and looks at me expectantly. "So, does that mean I can travel with you this weekend?"
I picture what that'd look like—either Ruthie bouncing around from person to person who should technically be working or… Tessa coming with us. My shirt suddenly feels even tighter as I question why the first would happen if I have the second option and why that choice scares the hell out of me. Nellie came with us on a dozen different trips, and I never blinked an eye about that.
"Come on, Dad. I miss the guys and Uncle Mack. And Tessa wouldn't mind, would you, Tess?"
The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening as I wait, half of me wanting her to say yes because it's her job—plus it's what Ruthie wants—and the other half needing her to say no.
"Of course not," I hear, and all of a sudden, that back-handed toss feels simpler than finishing this conversation.
"We'll see," I say quickly. "Roo, I'll see you at home."
"But Dad—"
"I love you," I sing cheerfully.
