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“Uh, I’m leaving before I’m thirty.”
“Twenty-eight then.”
She laughs. “Sure, Dad. Ask her to move in. Just please don’t do anything gross when I’m around. Because that’s just…ew.”
“It’s a deal.” I pull her over so I can kiss her on the cheek and ruffle her hair. “We need to start planning for school.”
“It doesn’t start for, like, two months,” she says.
“It’s a new school. I want to be prepared for it.”
“I need clothes,” she says, thinking it over. “And all new supplies. Maybe Maeve will take me shopping.”
And just like that, I’m no longer the cool one.
“What am I, chopped liver?”
“You can come, too, I guess, since you’re the one paying.”
“Come back here, you little shit,” I call when she runs away, laughing. “Yeah, you’d better hide!”
“You don’t scare me!”
I laugh, relieved that the discussion went better than expected, and walk down to the kitchen. I glance out the window and scowl.
Maeve is hauling stuff out to her car, and the luggage is heavy given the way she has to lug it up into her vehicle.
“What’s up?” I ask as I walk out the door and join her by her car.
“Oh, I’m just taking a few things over to Maggie’s.”
“You’re taking your suitcase over to your sister’s?”
“Yeah.” She clears her throat. “I was going to talk to you, but then I got carried away upstairs. I met with the contractor, and he said it’s going to be at least two months before my house is done. And we all know that means three months. That’s a long time to inconvenience you, so I spoke with Maggie, and she said I can just stay with her.”
“Let’s go inside.” I turn toward the door and open it for her, then follow her into the kitchen. “Have I somehow given you the impression that having you here is an inconvenience?”
She frowns. “Well, no. Of course, not, I just thought that because this thing between us is so new, that it was inappropriate to assume that I could just stay for as long as I like.”
“This thing.” I cross my arms and watch her from across the island. I want to pull her against me and crush my mouth to hers. I want to remind her that this isn’t just a thing.
“Why are you mad?”
“Because you made a decision that involves me without talking with me.” I rub my fingers over my lips. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Oh. Well, okay. I can stay above the garage—”
“I also don’t want you to stay out there.”
She frowns again and blinks at me. “Then where in the world will I stay?”
“With me.”
Silence.
“With me.”
“We’ve already said that it’s not right for me to stay with you with Rachel here.”
“Rachel and I talked about it. She’s not stupid, she understands what’s going on with us. This thing. And she likes you. Not to mention, she wants to see me happy. So, she and I are on the same page and understand each other.”
“Why are you so frustrated?” she asks again.
“Because I’ve been planning a way to keep you with me, really with me, not out in my guest house, and you’ve been scheming up a way to escape. I thought we had a good time in LA.”
“We did.”
“I thought that we’d taken this thing to a whole new level.”
“You don’t like that I called us a thing.”
“No. I don’t. Because, damn it, I’m falling in love with you. And you’ve made how I feel into something small and insignificant.”
She shakes her head, those green eyes bright.
“No, this is a lot of miscommunication—which I hate because we’re adults, and miscommunication is for bad romantic comedies.” She walks around the island and takes my hands, moving them around her waist to her lower back, and then leans into me. “I’m not trying to run. I just didn’t want to assume. This is new territory for me, you know?”
“Yeah.” I sigh and tip my forehead against hers. “And I’m an asshole. I don’t want you to go to Maggie’s.”
“I gathered as much. And it’s pleased I am that you had a talk with your daughter.”
“Your Irish is coming out.” The way it does when she’s turned on.
“I’m all worked up,” she admits. “First it was the bloody contractor. And then trying to decide what to do from there. Are you sure you want me here, underfoot, for several months?”
Forever.
The word almost slips out of my mouth, but I catch it.
“You are welcome here indefinitely.”
She smiles and lifts on tiptoe to kiss my lips. “Thank you.”
“Child entering,” Rachel calls out. “In case there’s anything goofy going on in there.”
Maeve laughs and steps away from me. “Nothing goofy.”
“So, are you staying?” Rachel asks.
“Looks like it. Were you eavesdropping?” I ask my daughter.
“Of course, I was,” Rachel says. “Don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of it.”
