She’s okay.
“Munchkin,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“Oh God,” Marlow groans when she sees me. “I told themnotto call you.”
“You should know better than that,” Will says with a shrug, like it’s obvious. And it is. This staff knows damn well to think twice before keeping anything from me—especially when it involvesher.
Xavier glances down at his phone, then starts casually inching toward the exit. “Well, looks like everything is under control,” he announces, already halfway out the door. “I need to take this call from my wife.”
“Thanks, X,” I say, giving him a nod.
I drop to one knee beside Marlow on the sofa, heart racing even though she’s upright and talking. “What happened, honey? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?”
“A ball to the head, perhaps?” Will throws in, grinning, not missing a single beat.
He’s still giving me a hard time after I stupidly told him about Eslin taking a soccer ball to the face during one of our community outreach events at Biddy Mason—and how I kissed her goodbye later that night.
Will hasn’t let up, mostly because he genuinely believes I might’ve stumbled into something real. Something worth holding onto. I keep brushing him off, telling him he only thinks that way because he’s deep in the fog of newlywed bliss—head over heels and drunk on domestic peace. But every time Eslin’s name comes up and Will’s nearby, he just gives methatlook. The one that says he sees right through the excuses. The one that tells me I’m not fooling anyone.
He keeps pushing, insisting I should give Marlow the truth. That I should give her thechanceto accept what’s between Eslin and me. But he doesn’t know my Low. He didn’t see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes every time I entertained one of those too-young, too-eager women I used to date. He didn’t catch the quiet, almost imperceptible relief on her face when she realized I’d stepped back from “the woman in Vegas”—forher.That I’d chosen her.
Marlow gives Dr. Shoup a pointed look. “See what you’ve done? Now he’s all frantic.”
Dr. Shoup just shrugs. “I have a daughter. I’d want to know, too.”
Panic hasn’t let go yet. “Want to know what?” I snap, stepping in fast, eyes locked on Marlow.
She sighs, brushing a strand of hair from her face like I’m being dramatic. “Nothing, Daddy. I’m fine.”
“She got a little lightheaded,” Dr. Shoup adds, rising to his feet with a grunt. “She should get some fluids. Lay down. Rest.”
I step aside so he can gather his things, but I’m not taking my eyes off her.
“You sure she’s okay, Doc?” I ask, my voice lower now.
“Perfectly fine,” he says, and then he actually laughs, patting me on the back. “Women seem to keep collapsing or hitting their heads around you, eh, Mr. Mills?”
Fuck.
Nobody else knows I asked him to check on Eslin.
Nobody knows I was there. Kissing her.
I run a hand down my face, trying to keep it together.Please, God. Don’t let my daughter be the annoying, inquisitive thing she usually is?
I force a smile. “I seem to have that effect on women.”
“Wait. What does he mean, Daddy?” Marlow asks, narrowing her eyes at both of us.
This is when Will conveniently decides to announce his exit. “This seems like everything is going just great,” he says on the way out.
Thanks, a lot.
I open my mouth, scrambling for a lifeline. “The day I took a soccer ball to the head,” a voice cuts in, smooth and calm.
Eslin.
I didn’t even see her standing there. I’ve been so locked in on Marlow—so consumed by her presence and the chaos swirling around it—that I missed just about everyone else in the room. But thank Godshe’shere.
