Soft whispers in the fresh Maine breeze when it’s just me, the pavement, and enough pounding effort to make my own heartbeat drown out everything else.
I live for this shit.
When you’re a single dad with a frantic schedule, alone time is God time. And from the day Charli dragged herself back into my life, I learned I need to hold on to that.
Fate has a warped, sick sense of humor. No question.
You have to be a little selfish, a lot grounded. You have to carve out space to think, and to be the best you can possibly be for your little girl.
Once my legs feel like stilts on fire, I drag myself back inside and head to the kitchen to start prepping breakfast.
Might as well try to smooth things over. If raising Kit has taught me anything, food’s a great start.
Cleo shuffles into the kitchen just as the golden sun slashes through the windows, her hair mussed, still in her pajamas.
A soft, loose pajama top and damnably tight leggings. Her ass is a peach and the long line of her legs blind me before I remember to look away.
Fuck, man.
I’m surprised she didn’t sleep in. I remember the old man would practically have to bang pots when she was young.
What’s she doing strolling in here like this? I wonder if she expected me, but the girl doesn’t look startled.
She yawns as she shuffles past me, apron around my waist, cooking eggs.
“You cook?” she says faintly.
“Yeah. Hungry?”
“It’s ass o’clock, but yeah. I couldn’t go back to sleep.”
I snort and stir the eggs. That’s the trick, to never stop stirring, plus a splash of cream.
“I’ll have bacon up in a minute. You still eat meat, right?”
“Yeah, I—” She swipes a hand through her hair, and it falls back over her face, catching on her long eyelashes. “Holy shit, Holden. How long have you been awake?”
“Little over an hour.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re still a morning person.”
“No way around it, Nile.” I allow myself a small smile. “Kit hates me for it too, so you’re not alone. She’ll be one of those teens who sleeps in forever, I’m sure.”
“Like me, you mean.” Shyly, she tucks a strand of that rust-colored hair behind her ear. She’s not wearing any makeuptoday, but that bleached stripe in her hair makes her glow like lightning.
She may be Nile, but she’s not little Cleo anymore.
She’s a grown woman with hellishly good looks attached to a smart mouth.
I still remember the first time she dyed her hair years ago. That was the summer I took her keys away so she couldn’t get into trouble after dark.
When she came waltzing in with violet highlights, Mr. Blackthorn just laughed. I thought he’d be mad, but no.
“Experiment now, girl,”he said warmly.“You’ll never be this young again.”
Better reaction than I’d have if Kit blew in with a bold new look for sure.
“You’re an artist now, so you’ve got a professional excuse for sleeping in, I suppose.” I pull the eggs off the heat and work on the bacon, flipping it over as it fries. “Toast? I do it in the pan and butter it up.”
