Page 38 of Curveball

Hadley's gaze left her mother's and drifted back up to mine. "Sowy, Walka."

I knelt down so I was eye level with Hadley and stuck my hand out for her to shake, "That's okay, Hadley. It's nice to meet you, though." Hadley flashed me a smile, one adorable dimple in her left cheek, and I swear I felt my heart crack wide open. I stood back up and held out the caramel macchiato I’d gotten for her. "I grabbed you a caramel macchiato when I was at PrimCup. Wasn't sure if it was still your favorite or not."

Farrah eagerly swiped it from me with her grabby hands. "Always will be." She immediately took a long sip, sighing happily.

I chuckled. "Easy there, Wildflower."

One snort-choke and two contented sighs filled the room. I couldn't help but smirk.

"Sorry, coffee went down the wrong pipe," Farrah stumbled, trying but failing to hide that hearing her old nickname threw her off.

"Oh my God, did you just call her Wildflower?" one of the contented sighs asked. She looked young, maybe college-aged, and had striking long auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. I couldn't help the shit-eating grin that spread across my face at how uncomfortable Farrah looked.

I nodded. "I did. That's her nickname."

Farrah immediately interrupted, "Was my nickname. He used to call me that when we were dating… that was a long time ago." She narrowed her eyes at me.

Maddie, the other contented sigh, and the one I’d met earlier, waved her hands in front of her face. "Wait." She turned her attention to Farrah. "Did you name your business after a name your ex-boyfriend called you? I thought it was just because we’re in Texas." She clasped her hands together, her dark eyes shining, brows pulled up. "That is SO romantic."

I chuckled as Farrah rolled her eyes. "No, I named my business Wildflower Interiors because we live in the Texas Hill Country. It just happens to be an old nickname, too."

Ignoring Farrah, Maddie turned her attention back to me, "So, why do you call her Wildflower anyway?"

I glanced at Farrah, who looked at me like she was trying to set me on fire, willing me not to answer the question.

So, naturally, I answered the question.

"Well, her birthday is April 4th, which happens to be wildflower blooming season, and they also remind me of her, colorful and vibrant."

The redhead sighed loudly, again. "Wow. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard in my life." She reached out a hand. "Hey, I'm Emma, by the way."

Farrah set her drink down and clapped her hands. "All right, you two, back to work. I don't need Walker volunteering any more details about my past."

Maddie and Emma groaned in protest as they reluctantly made their way back to their desks.

"And you two," Farrah pointed at Hadley and me, "my office."

Once we entered Farrah's office, Hadley knelt on the soft area rug, where a couple of coloring books and piles of crayons were strewn about. She grabbed one of the coloring books and looked up at me. "Walka, you cawa wif me?" Fuck, how could I ever say no to this little blonde doll?

I lowered myself onto the rug next to her, taking the coloring book from her hands. "Of course, and now that we’re friends, you can call me Walk." Hadley flashed me the most adorable smile, dimple and all, before handing me a crayon. The coloring book she gave me was Old MacDonald's Farm, and I began coloring a horse. "Hey Hadley, do you like horses?"

Her little eyes lit up. "Yes! I wub horseys."

I glanced at Farrah out of the corner of my eye, who was leaning against her desk, watching us. "Me too. They’re my favorite; I have two of them. I also have two tiny donkeys. Maybe if your mom says it’s okay, you can come see them one day."

I heard Farrah's annoyed sigh and didn't miss her eyes going straight to the ceiling, as if she were asking God for strength in that moment.

Hadley clapped her hands excitedly and looked to her mom. "Mommy, peeaase!? Go to Walk's house?" Farrah's eyes slid from her daughter’s to mine. I could see the hesitancy. I knew spending more time with Farrah, and especially spending time with her daughter, was probably not the wisest thing, because even though we had talked and decided to move on as friends, I think we both knew there was still so much unresolved between us.

Maybe I was being selfish, desperate for her light to take me out of the darkness. But I didn't give two fucks—I should have, but I didn't. For the first time in months, and honestly maybe even years, I felt happier, lighter, hopeful. And I knew it had everything to do with having the woman currently staring back at me back in my life.

After a solid ten minutes of begging, pleading, and a borderline tantrum from the most adorable two-year-old, Farrah finally agreed to bring Hadley to my place to see my horses and donkeys. Hadley's tears magically vanished the second Farrah relented, and I was both impressed and a little frightened at the pure manipulation I’d just witnessed at the hands of such a tiny human. It was almost four o'clock, and they would be here any minute. Farrah had to finish up a couple of things at work and had already planned to head out of the office a little earlier since she had Hadley.

I pulled both of my horses out and put them in the crossties so Hadley could help brush them. Theo walked down the aisle, stopping when he noticed both horses were out of their stalls. Before he could ask, I spoke. "Farrah’s bringing her daughter, Hadley, over to see the horses and donkeys."

He smiled. "That's nice. So you and Farrah are finally on speaking terms?" Theo crossed his arms over his chest, an amused look on his face. He knew the King family, and knew enough about my past to understand what the situation had been the last nine years with Farrah. I’d never divulged too many details, but he knew Farrah coming over was kind of a big deal.

I nodded. "Yup, we're good. I want to give this whole new friendship thing a shot." I picked up a brush and began running it down Ranger's copper coat. The sound of tires on gravel grabbed Theo's attention before he could respond. "That should be them," I said, throwing the brush back into the tray between the two crossties.