Page 72 of Sudden Summer

My fingers wiggled against her waist.

“Hey! Quit it!” she yelped.

“Shhhh. You’re going to wake the baby,” I teased. My eyes glanced over to the baby monitor Birdie had set up on the sink.

“She’s a good sleeper.”

“Yeah, she is,” I agreed. Sadly, my fingers continued moving the fabric up Birdie’s body, covering her stomach and chest, before reaching up to tie the straps around her neck. There was a second set of ties at her breasts that wrapped around her back. I’m not going to lie, knowing all this skin on her back would be exposed was exactly why I’d bought this style of dress. I knew she’d look incredible in it, and I wasn’t wrong.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?” she asked, her eyes catching mine in the mirror.

“Yeah. There’s a huge problem.”

“I can take it off if I don’t look good⁠—”

“You look too good. That’s the problem, Chickadee. I only just got this on you, but I want to cancel the party so I can rip it off you and take you to bed.”

Her eyes rolled as she reached for one of her super fluffy makeup brushes.

“Hey. I can do your makeup,” I volunteered. Did I have any idea what the hell I needed to do? No. She looked fucking perfect already. But I also wanted her to feel her best.

“Beau—”

“Nope, I have a daughter now. It’s important that I know all about this stuff. I mean, I’ve watched you do your makeup for years, so I think I get the gist. And I know she’ll always be able to go to you to ask for help, but I want Juniper to know she can come to me, too. Always. I never want to let her down.”

Birdie’s hands rested on my shoulder. “She will. She’s been here just a few weeks, and she already has the best bond with you. You’re a great dad.”

I took advantage of her position and slipped my hands onto her waist, lifting until she was sat on the counter. Birdie squealed, and I laughed as I picked up some pencil-looking thing I knew was either for her eyebrows, her eyes, or her lips. Christ. Maybe I was in over my head.

“Where do I start?”

“I’ve already done some tinted moisturizer, so⁠—”

“What is that? What does it do?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s like foundation, which would even out your skin tone and maybe cover things like blemishes or freckles.”

“Never wear that,” I growled. My chest ached at the thought of her covering up her freckles. I loved every single one of them.

Her eyes went wide, and her head tipped to the side. “Why not?”

“I love your freckles. Hell, sometimes I even dream about them; memories from when we were kids and we’d run around the fields out here. That one summer we swam at the springs every day from sun-up to sun-down? Your freckles were out like crazy then. They’re beautiful, Chickadee. Please don’t ever cover them up.” My finger dusted across the bridge of her nose and over her cheekbone, where so many of our memories together were painted in light brown spots over her skin. I wasn’t lying. I loved each and every one of those cute little things.

“Okay,” she whispered, and I watched the muscles in her neck contract as she swallowed. Fuck, being this close might have actually been a bad idea. Because now all I could think about was kissing every inch of her body where a freckle lived, and couldn’t do a damn thing about it because my family was all downstairs.

“So, um,” I cleared my throat, “you don’t need foundation because you used tinted moisturizer. What about that brown sparkly stuff you put on your forehead.”

She nodded. “Bronzer. I can probably manage that myself. I was just…having a moment.”

“Too late. I’m here, and I promised to help. So, big fluffy brush and what? Swipe it all over this thing?”

“Yeah. Not too much, though. You can dust it on my forehead and my cheekbones.”

I swirled the brush around the compact a few times before picking the brush up and inspected the end. There was a lot of product on it.

“Too much?” I asked.

Birdie nodded. “Tap the brush onto the edge of the compact. Some will fall back, and then you’ll be good to go.”