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Cami tilted her head. “Emma, did you hear us?”
“Mr. Landon is my daddy.”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “And you know what that means?”
I raised my eyebrows at her, wondering how in depth she planned to go with this explanation. Cami fought back a smile and nudged an elbow into my side.
“Yep!” Emma said. “Can we go back to the garden today?”
“Never,” I said.
“Maybe,” Cami countered. “But first, I just want to make sure you understand. Mr. Landon is yourdaddy.”
“Iknow,” Emma said patronizingly. “Can I have a baby sister?”
“Emma!”
Cami hurriedly sent her to her room to change into her swimsuit, then snuck a glance at me. “That went…well.”
“I’d say so,” I said, amused.
She went into her bedroom to change, and I went to mine, regretting that I couldn’t watch her slip out of that thin, soft tank top again. Couldn’t watch her slide those brief, silky shorts down her thighs. Maybe once Emma got used to the idea that I was her dad I could convince Cami to move into my bedroom officially.
Over the next several days, our same pattern resumed with one notable difference. Instead of skirting each other warily in the evenings, we found each other immediately. It was wreaking havoc on my work-life balance, but I couldn’t shut myself away in my room all night anymore. Not when Cami was out in the living room, beautiful and bored and waiting for me. More and more often, she fell asleep in my room, sneaking out in the early morning hours so that Emma wouldn’t find her bed empty.
“Maybe we should tell her that Dad and Mom sleep in the same bed,” I suggested early one morning as the rising sun crept around the dark blinds, my voice thick with sleep.
“I think that would renew the question of a baby sister,” Cami whispered, kissing me softly before rolling out of bed. I opened my eyes so that I could see the elegant shape of her in the dim light slipping into her clothes. After she left, I thought about the new house I was in the process of buying. It had five bedrooms.
Plenty for one more.
The thought lingered, then I pushed it away hard. No. Cami and I were making the most of a difficult situation. That was all. We both knew this couldn’t work long term. The house was for Emma, not some perfect family fantasy that would turn out to be bullshit.
* * *
That night, I read Emma her bedtime story and she said, “Goodnight, Mr.--” then stopped, puzzled. “Do I call you daddy?”
“You can call me whatever you want to.” I kept my voice steady, relaxed, as though it didn’t matter either way, but my heart thumped in anticipation. I desperately wanted her to call me daddy, but I wasn’t going to push her.
Emma settled for just saying good night, though, and I stuffed away my disappointment. “Sweet dreams, honey.”
Cami, standing in the doorway, heard it all. Her eyes searched mine, and I made sure she didn’t see it either.
Out in the living room, I expected her to ask me about it. Cami liked analyzing feelings as much as I liked avoiding it. Instead, though, she said, “My parents asked us to call.”
My eyebrows went up. Elyna and Robert had kept their distance over the last couple of weeks. I didn’t even think Cami had talked to them much, which was unusual. “What about?”
Cami shook her head, concern in her eyes. “I’m not sure. Do you have work to do first?”
I did, but this felt more important. We went out onto the terrace and slid the door shut behind us. Without saying it aloud, we both agreed we didn’t want Emma to overhear anything they had to say. It wasn’t likely to be a cheerful catch-up call. Cami went straight for the loveseat, but I stayed at the chest-high wall, looking out.
The phone rang once, twice. Then Elyna’s tearful voice flowed through the speaker. “I’m so sorry, ma fille. I don’t know how they even knew about her.”
My head snapped around, met Cami’s eyes, wide and shining in the globe lights that were strung across the trellis above her. I reached for the phone as she said, “Mom, slow down. What are you talking about?”
There was a muffled transition, and then Robert’s voice came through. Calm, but grave, he explained that there had been another threat. This time, Emma had been mentioned.
“By name?” I demanded. Cami hadn’t surrendered the phone, but now I sat next to her, our heads bent together, watching the seconds tick by on the screen.
