The slow grin is unavoidable. “No matter what else life throws at her, I will feed, water, and light whatever whim she desires and convince her to not think, just jump. I’ll be sure she’s the best swimmer in the PNW.”
The thin line of his lips softens, revealing fuller lips framed by that thick, brown beard. “You’re still young, Iris. You still have plenty of time to dream and fail and love.”
Damn, don’t make me like you, Ellis.
“I appreciate that. Spoken as a good father would to his daughter. Though, ew. I’m to be your wife, remember?” I smile, and the heavens open up when I get a laugh out of him.
It’s small and quiet, but that’s a win in my book. “I have my reasons and life experiences, Ellis. Everyone gets dealt different cards. I don’t resent mine. So, what do you say? Marry me today?”
I hold my breath.
He releases a heavy exhale. “Where’s your sister now?”
“I…don’t know,” I admit quietly. His brows furrow. “I’m leaving voice messages threatening bodily harm if she doesn’t give me signs of life. As I said…it’s been a rough few years for the Clarke sisters.”
Finally, Ellis’ arms drop. He stuffs them into his jean pockets and stares over my shoulder.
“That your truck?” he asks.
I look back at the old, faded, baby blue Dodge wagon. “Now it is. Used to be my father’s.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off it as he nods. “Let’s unpack your stuff then.”
He passes me, heads down the steps, and goes to the truck.
Holy shit. I did it. I got him to agree.
Now…I have to marry a stranger.
Chapter Three
ELLIS
She didn’t bring much. Two suitcases and some small boxes. I leave her in the guest bedroom downstairs while I sit with Olive in her room across the hall from mine.
“Alright, kiddo. Ask whatever questions you have,” I say, sitting on her twin-size bed.
Olive pets Ginger, whose head rests on her legs. We got her three years ago. Deke once again convinced me to do something stupid. The moment I saw joy in my daughter’s eyes again, it made it all worth it. Wish I knew how big that puppy was going to get, though. She’s cute, lovable, and loyal, but damn, are her shits huge.
“Is she my new mommy?” Olive mumbles, refusing to give me her eyes.
“Baby girl.” I wait for her to lift her head. “No. Your Momma will always be your Momma. You carry her with you, remember? Always.”
My gut jolts with suppressed emotion. Olive nods her head, absently finger-combing through Ginger’s thick, soft fur.
“But you’re gonna marry her,” she states what we’ve previously discussed months ago when I listened to my bonehead best friend.
“Yes. Legally, she will join our family. Together, we’re going to live here with you, and she’s going to help us and be here with you when I’m working.”
“In your room?” she asks.
“No. She has her own room downstairs.”
I watch the faint scatter of freckles around her nose move as she wiggles her nose in thought. Gillian used to do that. I reach over Ginger and cup my daughter’s face.
“If this makes you sad or uncomfortable, kiddo, we won’t do it. It’s you and me, baby girl.”
“Against the world,” she grins that well-beyond-her-years expression.
