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Now, I’m shocked. “You really do want me to stay. And you were really confident I’d say yes.”
A flicker of a smile crosses his lips, but he covers it with his coffee mug. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t,” I say, and we share this almost-smile for a second. “I should go back and clean it first. I was only there a couple weeks so it won’t take me that long.” He nods in understanding, and I take the opportunity to push my boundaries again for a moment. “Maybe the kids can come into town with me tomorrow.”
Parker chokes on his sip of coffee and coughs. “What?”
“They told me just the other day that they really wanted to get out of the house for a little bit,” I tell him. It’s true, they did, and children need a change of scenery every once in a while, at least. “Penelope and I can take them into town. Give you a little break, maybe?”
Parker stares at me, but we both jump at the sudden burst of noise as both Evie and Jackson come sprinting from the hallway into the kitchen, talking over each other.
“Yes, we want to do that, please,” Evie is exclaiming, as Jackson just repeats, “Please, please, please!”
I’m already laughing as Jackson scrambles into my lap and Evie takes the seat next to Parker. “Were you listening the whole time?”
“Yeah!” Jackson says, happy as a clam.
“We’re your bosses,” Evie reminds me. “We’re supposed to listen.”
“I’m not sure you know exactly what bosses do,” I tell her. Jackson takes a moment to hug me tightly, and I’m so taken aback that it takes me a moment to hug him back.
“I’m happy you’re staying,” he says, and I squeeze him a little tighter before letting him go.
“Me too,” I say truthfully. I look up at Parker, who’s smiling like he doesn’t know he’s being watched.
“Alright,” Parker says, wiping the smile off his face as soon as his children look at him. “You can go into town with Kacee and Auntie Penelope tomorrow. But not for long. Two hours, at most.”
“Thank you, Daddy!” Evie exclaims. Jackson nods his head.
“Yeah, thanks, Daddy,” he says, and Parker kisses Evie’s head. All at once, it clicks for me. Parker’s not as aggressive as he pretends he is or as he wants to be. He’s just scared and protective of his kids.
The realization that he’s nervous and scared for his children makes everything slide into place, like a puzzle I didn’t have all the pieces to. The understanding of this makes me feel even better about choosing to stay. Maybe I can get that side of him he’s trying to hide from everyone to come out more. Perhaps he’ll even feel comfortable enough to let his guard down every once in awhile.
He’s a good dad, and that makes me him even more damn attractive to me. I love the way his face lights up when he sees the kids first thing in the morning, the way he rough houses with them, the sweet way he kisses their heads. He’s had to be their mother and father and most days it feels like he’s hanging on by an emotional thread, one I’d like to cut and be the one to watch him finally open his heart.
Within a second a hot flush covers my skin, so I take another sip of coffee holding Jackson tight with my other hand, so he doesn’t fall off. When I look back up, Parker is looking at me, almost like he’s curious about what I’m thinking about. I hope my blush isn’t giving me away, but I’m sure he’s noticed it all week by now. He looks away once we make eye contact, but I know he was watching me.
“You two should both be in bed,” Parker says, and they scramble down and sprint toward their rooms without needing to be told again. Parker does his almost-smile again. “Kids.”
“You said it,” I reply, and take a moment to enjoy the camaraderie before he remembers he wants to hate me. It’s the best moment I’ve had since I arrived.
5
Parker
The next morning, Kacee gets up at the same time as me. I wasn’t expecting her to—the only person I ever expect to see before seven in the morning is Ev
ie—but when I make it to the kitchen, she was already sitting at the breakfast nook, reading a book and sipping a glass of orange juice. She jumps when she hears me, clutching her hand over her heart. She looks beautiful in the soft light of the sunrise that’s peaking through the window. I’ve never seen her look so damn beautiful, but I try to shake it off.
“Good morning,” I say to her, passing through the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, which I then notice she’s already done. Apparently, our talk from last night gave her the permission she needed to make herself at home.
“Morning,” she replies.
I open the fridge and take out a carton of eggs and a package of sausage links.
“Can I do anything to help?” she asks softly.
I’m ready to say no, but I’m trying to give her a chance and not scare her away.
