I blink at him, schooling my features. “There is no part I skipped.”
He actually smiles then, which is a terrible sign. Slow, knowing, deeply annoying. “Grayson. I’ve known you too long for this.”
That is the problem, exactly.
Most people only know the version of me I let them deal with. Cole knows the bones underneath. He knew me back when both of us were rougher around the edges and meaner about it. Back before his life imploded and got rebuilt. Back when we were both better at acting like we didn’t need anyone.
He has seen me lie smoother than this.
“Nothing is going on,” I say.
Cole folds the towel over one shoulder. “Sure.”
“She’s good with Penelope.”
“That’s not helping your case.”
“She’s smart.”
“Still not helping.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you want me to stop talking?”
He smirks. “Not even a little bit.”
Of course he doesn’t. I drag in a breath, already regretting being here. “I took them to get ice cream today. Then the park.”
Cole’s brows go up a fraction. “You did a trial run?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And Penelope liked her.”
“She’s not the only one who did.”
I say nothing.
Cole lets the silence breathe just long enough to get under my skin. “How bad is it?”
I give him a flat look. “You are profoundly irritating.”
“That bad, then.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “She was good with her. Pen was climbing all over her in less than an hour.”
“Kids know.”
“Don’t start.”
“I haven’t even started.”
I groan and tip my head forward onto my waiting palm. “Fine. Christ. She looked good.”
Cole huffs a laugh that sounds almost surprised. “Thereit is.”
I immediately regret saying it. “She was good with my daughter, Cole.”
