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Rachel frowns. “You snuck out?”
“Honey, I’m the boss around here. I don’t ever sneak. I left.”
My daughter yawns and then reaches for a box of cereal. “Didn’t hear you. Where’d you go?”
“I had to help Maeve.”
That wakes her up. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, but her house isn’t. She’s staying in the apartment above the garage.”
“Oh my God, Dad. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
I raise a brow. “You were sleeping.”
Rachel pours two cups of coffee, doctors them up with too much sugar, and starts to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“To comfort Maeve,” she says like I should already know the answer to that stupid question.
I grin. I love that my daughter likes Maeve. Hell, she likes the whole family. And what’s not to like? They’re a bunch of awesome people.
Watching how they all rallied around Maeve last night only cemented for me the fact that these are the kind of people I want in our lives, and I’ve only known these people for roughly a month. It’s unexpected but only reaffirms that moving here is precisely what Rachel and I needed.
I pour my own cup of coffee, black, and walk out to the apartment.
When I enter, both girls are sitting at the small table by the kitchenette, sipping their drinks.
“Good morning,” I say and watch in horror as Maeve’s eyes fill with tears. “Hey, what did I do?”
“Nothing.” She wipes the tears and blows out a breath.
“She’s just emotional,” Rachel explains. “It’s been a rough night.”
“Did you get any sleep?” I ask Maeve as I sit next to her.
“Not really.” She sighs and checks the time. I feel like shit. I should have stayed with her last night. “I’m just waiting for people to open up for the day so I can start making calls. I’m sorry about the trip. I know it’s short notice.”
“Hey, Rach, why don’t you go get some breakfast?”
She frowns, but I give my head a brief shake, and she nods.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I could eat.”
Rachel takes her mug and leaves the apartment. When I can no longer hear her clomping down the steps, I reach over to push a stray piece of hair behind Maeve’s ear.
“You’re still going to LA, babe.”
Maeve frowns. “I don’t see how.”
“Well, you have a million relatives who will be happy to oversee things at the house for a couple of days. We won’t even be gone a full forty-eight hours.”
“But the dress—”
“Has been dealt with.” I sip my coffee. “It’s all been handled.”
“Hunter, I don’t even have underwear at this point.”
“Yes, you do. I’m crazy about you, but you’re being dramatic, Maeve. We just have to go gather your stuff, bring it back here, and run it through the laundry. Good as new. We gather up any toiletries you need—or buy new ones. I have so much luggage, I could open my own shop, so you’re covered there.”
She bites her lip, and I see a little spark of hope light in those gorgeous eyes.
“I guess my clothes aren’t ruined,” she admits. “Just wet.”
“Yep. Clothes can be saved from the wetness. We just have to go get them before they mold.”
Her eyes widen. “Mold. Oh, God, I’m going to have mold in my house.”
“No, you’re not. Because we’re going to call people to come take care of it. It’s a pisser, I won’t deny it, but it’s all fixable. The most important thing is that you are safe, Maeve. You’re the only thing that can’t be replaced.”
She nods, sighs, and then firms that bottom lip. “Okay, enough of this wallowing. It’s dumb and doesn’t solve anything. I’m just tired. Because you’re right, all of this can be dealt with. Can you give me a lift over to my place so I can gather up some stuff? And if you don’t mind, I might have to camp out here in this apartment for a little while.”
“You’re welcome here for as long as you like.”
I don’t think it’s wise to tell her she can stay forever. Not yet.
And I need to have a conversation with my kid because I have no intention of letting Maeve stay out above the garage for long.
“Of course. We’ll take the bigger car.”
“You have a bigger car?”
I smile at her. “Several.”
“You’re a car guy, aren’t you?”
“I do enjoy a well-built automobile, yes.”
She smirks. “You and Kane are two peas in a pod. I’m ready when you are.”
“Let’s go, then. I’ll let Rachel know we’re leaving.”
“Do you trust her here alone?”
I raise a brow. “Where is she going to go? We’re on an island. But, yes, she seems to have turned over a new leaf and hasn’t pulled any bullshit since we got here. Granted, it hasn’t been that long, but so far, so good.”
“I’m glad,” she says as she follows me down the stairs. “She’s a sweetheart. She was so worried when she brought me coffee this morning.”
