Page 48 of Crack the Ice

She nods silently for a beat. “That makes sense.”

“What’s going through that pretty little mind of yours?”

When her eyes meet mine, they’re glassy, but not sad, hopeful almost. “Sunny’s moving back here. She’s going to stay with me. But maybe, if you’re okay with it, and the kids are, too, I could stay with them while you’re gone. I’m not sure that’s how a two-parent household works, but if it would help, I’d do it.”

She offered. She offered. I’ve spent more than a week trying to figure out how to bring this up to her, and it’s her, after all this, who still offers to help.

When I don’t respond, places her hand over my forearm. “You have to breathe, Mav. Stop trying to shoulder everything by yourself.”

“I’m not.”

She cuts me off with a look that tells me she knows I’m full of shit. “Right, and I’m your Irish Uncle.”

A laugh bellows from me, filling the car with the kind of joy only she can bring. She is such a brat, and I’ve missed her so much. When my eyes land on hers, they’re soft in a way I’ve only seen in my dreams. Relaxed, unguarded, and so innately her.

“I missed you,” I say before I can stop myself.

Her lips part, and I can hear the quick pass of air through them. “Yeah. I guess I might have missed you, too. This isn’t a magical fix, though, you know that, right?”

I give her a jerky nod, keeping my distance despite my desire to throw the car in park and rush her. Pulling through the gate of my neighborhood, I relax slightly.

As soon as I park in the driveway, a beat of silence passes as we hold each other’s gaze before she softly bites her lip and says, “We can talk about all this later, okay? Right now, those kids need you.”

“Us, Cess. They need us.”

My smile grows, and she points her finger in my face. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Maverick, or I swear I’ll walk my ass home.”

“You will do no such thing,” I laugh, pushing my door open.

She’s already on the sidewalk when my door closes behind me. I take a moment to make sure she isn’t limping. Her ankle didn’t immediately swell up once we got in the car, but she’s lost the shoes entirely and is walking up the driveway barefoot.

She looks over her shoulder and winks. “Watch me.”

I shove my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heel, my tongue pressing against the inside of my cheek as I watch her saunter toward the front door. The front door I picked, hoping that one day she’d step through it, coming home to me.

The sound of her laugh jolts me into motion. My feet slap against the driveway as I jog up behind her. I place my hand on her lower back, steadying her as she climbs the front steps.

“Wow, this is your house?” Her voice is laced with wonder as she takes in the details on the outside.

One day, I’ll take the time to show her everything, then maybe she’ll realize I built this house with her in mind. But now isn’t the time. “Yeah,” I breathe, loving the fact that my breath against her shoulder makes her shiver.

I slide my key in the door, arm reaching around Cecilia, whose breath hitches as my other hand rests on her waist. “I’ll show you around later.”

I push the door open, and she audibly gasps. I fight the urge to pump my fist in victory. I did good.

“Reed, Cecy!” Lily yells, barreling out of the kitchen toward us.

“Hey, pretty girl.” She immediately wraps her arms around Lily, just in time for Sheila and Cade to round the corner. “How are you?”

“Good. Can you paint my nails? Reed got me sparkly colors, and I always mess up my left hand.” Lily asks, holding up a bottle of purple sparkly polish.

If I thought Cecilia was beautiful before, nothing compares to the beauty that I’m witnessing right now. The slow stretch of her smile, the way she’s bent down so that she’s eye level with Lily and not looking down on her, the way she hangs on every word that comes out of this little girl’s mouth like it’s the sustenance she needs to live. Especially now that I know what I know, God, it’s… It’s life-altering in the best and worst way.

“Mr. Reed.” Sheila crosses the room before Cecilia can even answer Lily’s original question. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her hair is pulled up in a ponytail that looks tight enough to give her a headache. “These kids were left unattended. Can you tell me why?”

My mouth falls open. They’re more than capable of taking care of themselves for the two hours I was originally supposed to be out of the house. I start to refute, but a hand wraps around my hip, sliding into the front pocket of my jeans.

Cecilia clears her throat, fingers gripping the inner lining of my pocket. “Sheila, was it?”