“Yeah. Also, her sippy cup with water. I forgot that.”
“Da.”
“What’s that?” Elodie holds our daughter close.
Lola reaches her arm out in my direction. “Dada.”
It takes Elodie a moment to digest what Lola is doing. “You want Daddy?”
Lola nods.
I’m not sure Elodie wants to smile or cry. Her lips tremble, and she blinks rapidly, torn between laughter and tears. My own heart aches and swells, flooded with a fierce, unexpected joy.
“Oh. You want to be held by Daddy?” Elodie seems to double-check more out of disbelief.
Lola nods again.
Elodie walks to me and hands off Lola straight into my arms. “I’ve been demoted.” She sounds defeated, but there is enough lightness in the undertone that I’m positive that she won’t go cry in the kitchen. “I’ll get the things. Just rock her a bit.”
“Sure.” I don’t even watch Elodie mope away. I keep my daughter close and walk around the room. We check out stuffed animals, and when she seems that her eyes are droopy again, I lie on the sofa bed.
When Elodie returned, we gave Lola medicine and a fresh set of pajamas. Still, Lola cried, and I seemed to be her calming answer.
Not sure when, but I fell asleep with her on my chest, and when I wake, it’s already six in the morning. No Elodie in sight. I carefully set Lola back in her bed and then explore down the hall. Checking the guestroom and finding no sign of Elodie, I assume she’s probably gone to get more supplies. That gives me an opportunity for a quick shower.
But the moment I open the door to my bedroom, I have to half-smile because she didn’t go anywhere other than my bed, where she is now sleeping under the covers. I should let her rest, but I’m far too intrigued that she chose my room as her sleeping spot.
“Well, well, well. Look what I found in my bed,”I whisper to myself with my eyes set on the view.
I lean against the door pane, cross my arms and ankles, and watch her peacefully in her slumber. I feel my smirk creep up at the view.
Because she is exactly where she should be.
16
ELODIE
My body begins to move as I struggle to open my heavy eyelids. Stretching out my body, I groan before my eyes give in to the light.Gosh, this bed is heavenly.
Wait.
I nearly shoot up as I remember that I’m in Hayes’s bed. Glancing over, I see that his side of the bed hasn’t been slept in. Not a single wrinkle on his pillow.Maybe that means he has no clue I was ever in here because he was always with Lola. Highly doubtful. I do have logical reasons for being here, I’m just not entirely convinced they are the real reasons.
I stretch my arms high into the air as I leave the bed.I’m in yoga pants and a shirt that I changed into last night, because Hayes arranged for a delivery from a store near here. A surprise was he had a bag of knitting supplies delivered since it could be a long weekend and maybe he thinks I need to calm myself. I’m sure I look disheveled, and I’m scared to look in a mirror. I’ll figure it out later and see what supplies are waiting for me in the guest bathroom. Instead, I opt for a messy bun, the solid choice for people to figure out if you arejust being lazy or aiming for cute. But I want to hurry and check on Lola.
I comb my fingers through my hair as I walk into the hall and slow my pace to her bedroom next door, but the door is wide open, and the curtains are already drawn to reveal a cloudy morning. She must have already woken up, and Hayes is with her. I left them last night when she fell asleep with him.I’m not sure if she was squeezing Hayes or her bunnies more; either way, my heart was getting squeezed between them purely by the scene.
On my approach to the living area, it doesn’t take long to figure out they’re in the kitchen. I smell something peculiar. It’s not eggs, but it’s not sweet either. I’m not sure it’s breakfast.
The moment I turn the corner, words lodge in my throat. If my body wasn’t fully awake yet, well, now it is.
Hayes is at the stove in sweatpants and no shirt. The guy has lines, and the V under his belly button, heading straight down, leaves little to the imagination. But I’m more of an arm gal, and his toned arms are perfect for wrapping around things. Not overdone but still convey that he’s strong.
He glances up from a pot, and that boyish grin is already making me lightheaded. As I swallow, I move my body along. “Morning.”
“Sleep well?” The way he asks is a taunt, proven by his sly smirk.
Walking to Lola in her highchair, happily eating a cut-up bagel, I get this over with. “Your room is closest to Lola’s so I could hear her. Who cares? You weren’t using your bed anyhow,” I defended without giving him a look.
