Page 94 of Jay Bird

They turned to find that Lily had somehow buried herself beneath half the pillows in the reading corner, with only her little feet sticking out.

Jay Bird sighed. “Excellent. We built her a room and lost her in under five minutes.”

Willow laughed.

Lily popped out. “Outside!”

Jay Bird looked at Willow. “What does she want outside?”

Willow smiled sweetly. “Well, since you’re home early…”

His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”

“I’ve seen the jungle.”

“You could help me plant it.”

Jay Bird groaned.

Twenty minutes later, he was digging holes in the front yard. Willow stood nearby arranging flowers while Lily followed behind them with her yellow watering can, dumping approximately three drops of water on each plant before proudly declaring it done.

Jay Bird looked over at Willow. “You realize this is getting out of control.”

She stepped back and admired the row of flowers.

“Nope. It’s finally starting to look like somebody actually lives here.”

Willow looked at Lily digging enthusiastically in the dirt, then at the flowers beginning to fill the empty beds around the house.

A month ago, she had arrived here with just a few things stuffed into two bags. Now Lily had a bedroom, and Willow had a job, a car, friends, and money in the bank. She even had a man she was slowly falling for. And tonight, for the first time in more than three years, Willow was going to climb into bed beside someone because she wanted to.

She smiled as Lily dumped an entire watering can onto Jay Bird’s shoe.

He stared down at his soaked sneaker.

Lily gasped, then giggled. Jay Bird slowly turned his attention toward her.

“You better run, peanut.”

Lily squealed and took off across as Jay Bird chased her.

Willow laughed as she watched them, realizing that, for once, she wasn’t looking over her shoulder. She was too busy taking in everything waiting for her just ahead.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

By the time Willow finally convinced Lily that her new bedroom would still be there in the morning, it was well past her normal bedtime.

Apparently, giving a two-year-old a room filled with new toys, books, stuffed animals, and a bed covered in her favorite colors right before expecting her to sleep had not been the smartest idea anyone had ever come up with.

“Lily, sweetheart, lie down.”

“My books.”

“The books will be here tomorrow.”

Lily pointed toward the little table in the corner. “Color?”