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“You work for your family’s construction company, and you have a daughter. What else should I know about you?” I wondered if he’d go out at night and expect me to watch Maggie.
The idea rolled uncomfortably around in my chest. I didn’t like that thought at all.
“I spend all of my free time with this little cutie.” Sam reached over the counter to chuck her on the chin.
She squirmed away from his touch, but it was clear she loved him.
There was something about the easy affection in his voice, the love for his daughter, that had my heart squeezing. Had my father ever felt that way? Maybe when I was born and he held me for the first time? When had work taken over and become more important? Was it when he started making more money and realized he could afford the amazing house in an exclusive neighborhood?
“Is your family close?” Sam asked, his deep voice rumbling around in my chest.
My heart pounded in reaction to the question. “My sister and I are. My parents worked a lot.”
He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. “They don’t mind that both their daughters moved to Colorado?”
“I mean, they don’t have a say in the matter, do they?” Thinking he might want more of an explanation, I continued. “I grew up in a different world, where looks and designer names mattered more than what you said or did. How kind you were or what causes you believed in.” I stopped talking, realizing I was revealing more of myself than I wanted to.
I waved a hand. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about that.”
His expression softened. “I want to know you better. You’re watching Maggie and living here. You’re in our lives now.”
“I assure you, I’m boring. I work and read.” And do my art, but I wasn’t telling him about that. The only ones who knew were my parents and Elle and Gray.
I didn’t think of myself as an artist. It was something I did when life was overwhelming.
“Do you like to play games?” I asked Maggie, needing to get Sam off the subject of my family.
“Uh-huh.”
“Me too. I love games, puzzles, and books.”
“I do too. Will you play with me after dinner?” Maggie asked.
“I’d love to.”
“Maggie, Miss Alice is watching you while I’m at work. The rest of the time, she’s free to do whatever she’d like.”
“Oh. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked.
“It will let us get to know each other better. Right, Maggie?”
“Uh-huh,” she said as Sam cleaned up the countertop in front of her and then handed her a coloring book and crayons.
“The key is to keep her busy.”
“And to have fun,” I added. I was looking forward to it being just me and Maggie. I could handle a four-year-old. Sam? Not so much. He’d want to know more about why I was here, where I came from, and why I didn’t want to go back. I wasn’t prepared to deal with any of those questions.
Even Elle stopped asking when she realized I didn’t want to talk about it—ever. There was no person, place, or situation where I’d feel comfortable revealing how idiotic I’d been. I’d trusted a man once, and it had blown up my life. Afterward, I felt worthless. I never wanted to revisit that feeling.
I picked up a crayon, desperate to forget. “Can I color with you?”
“You do that side, and I’ll do this one.” Maggie pointed at one side of the coloring book, then the other.
Coloring was comforting. I could tune out Maggie’s father and the feelings his questions evoked.
When the pizzas were done, we moved to eat at the table. As soon as Maggie ate a couple of bites of each slice of hers, she dashed off to play dress-up.
