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“Listen, I don’t know your mom, but from what I’ve heard she didn’t run off and leave you.” I stop. Then again, she won’t talk to the attorney to get back to her daughter, so I could be wrong. “My mom left a lot because she wanted to. Sometimes she just wanted a vacation.”
“Where?” Millie asks excitedly.
I think travel excites her. Perfect distraction.
“Europe, mostly. But sometimes she’d visit different islands in the Pacific.”
“Wow! I wanna see when I grow up,” she chirps.
“You’ll get your chance.” I nod, pouring milk into a frother I adjust to the lowest setting.
“Did you miss your mommy?”
Once upon a time, I did.
Part of me still does, I suppose, no matter how much of a monster she was.
“Sometimes, but I was very lucky. My grandma loved me so much she didn’t want to share me with my mom. Grandma and Grandpa did a lot of amazing things for me.”
“Auntie Reese wants to share me with mommy,” Millie babbles.
The frother dings. I take the milk out, test the temperature, and then add cinnamon, sugar, and a splash of vanilla before pouring it in a small cup and handing it to Millie.
“You’re a lucky little lady. Your aunt loves you a whole lot, and so does your mama.”
Millie giggles. “Auntie Reese always says she wasn’t supposed to be a mommy. She never had to cook before.”
I chuckle. “Leave the cooking to me, munchkin. She’s happy to have you with her, though. I know that much.”
“I miss my mommy.” She looks down at her cup and drinks the milk before blinking up at me. “This is yummy!”
“Yep. Sometimes I had nightmares on purpose just to get this milk,” I say with a wink.
She takes another drink and giggles.
“I hope we can get your mom home soon so you won’t miss her anymore,” I tell her.
“Me too. Not having mommy makes me sad. I want her here with us...”
“I’m sorry. She’ll be with you soon enough.”
She holds the cup with both hands, tips it back, and finishes the milk in no time, letting out a belch that makes me laugh.
I rinse the cup out and put it in the sink. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Will you tuck me in?”
“Sure.” I reach down, ruffling her curly hair.
“Is my mommy bad, Quick Nick?”
I hesitate.
“What?”
“Auntie Reese said Mommy made a big mistake, and that’s why she went away. Does that mean she’s bad?”
Being around Millie, I’ve learned exactly one thing about kids—they’re unpredictable.
Gathering my thoughts, I walk her back to her room, where she plops down on the bed.
“I don’t know what your mom did or why, so I can’t say she’s bad. Everyone makes mistakes and does bad things sometimes. Even if she made a big one, it doesn’t make her a bad person, munchkin. She loves you very much.” I pull the blanket over her.
“In my dream, my mommy was a bad person. And everyone thought I was bad because I’m her kid, and then I had to go away too.”
My heart twists. This poor girl.
“My parents both made mistakes as big as dinosaurs, Millie.” Hell, how many have I made? “No one made me go away because of that. They couldn’t. You can’t help what your mom does. And as long as you’re with us, you’re not going anywhere except here, the playroom, or your aunt’s apartment.”
“Are you sure?” Her eyes are big, gleaming with worry.
“Certain. Mistakes aren’t the end. When you mess up one day, you just have to do better the next,” I say, my brain spinning off into the ether.
Is my own ad hoc wisdom still an option for me? Can I just do better?
And if I do, and I keep it together long enough, does all the fuckery in my past still matter?
We’re both quiet for a minute.
“Remember, this isn’t even your mistake. It’s your mom’s. No one blames you for that. Okay, Millie?” I lean over.
She doesn’t answer, and I hope she’s convinced.
Growing up with Ward, I know firsthand how much damage reckless parents can do.
“Right, Millie?” I whisper, testing her.
She’s snoring. Good.
I sneak out, only to find Reese standing in the doorway. I stop by her, closing the door behind me.
“You heard all that, huh?”
“You’re a sweet man.” She brings her arms up around my neck, those delicate fingers tracing my skin.
I’m not nearly as sweet as she gives me credit for. Because when she tilts her chin and goes up on her toes, I do nothing to stop her—or the raging hard-on aching to rip through my pants.
I just inch closer, claiming her lips with a sound that’s no longer human.
This is way beyond want.
I could hold this woman prisoner for a year, hammering her for half the day, and I’d still need more.
The kiss is long and sweet and too intense. My hands fall to her waist, grazing her shorts, fingers slipping down to heated skin.
