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“Is she your girlfriend,Daddy?”
She never fails to catch on tosomething.
I shake my head and fake a laugh. “Now, that’s a sillyquestion.”
She frowns. “It’s not a sillyquestion.”
“Your daddy can’t have agirlfriend.”
I need to tread lightly here. I can’t get her involved in something that could break her heart. I’m already growing attached to Willow, constantly thinking about her.But can I throw my daughter into the mix?I’m more worried about her heart getting broken than myown.
“Why not? Mommy told me, when she was gone, you’d someday get a new girlfriend who’d be a good mommy to me. Willow would be a good mommy, don’t you think so?” She sighs. “Maybe I’ll askher.”
Oh, fuck. Holy fuck.This is heading into territory I’m not ready for. Territory Willow isn’t readyfor.
I squeeze her sides over the blanket. “Honey, Willow is just Daddy’sfriend.”
“Andmy friend,” shecorrects.
“And yourfriend.”
“She rubs her belly a lot. Marci’s mommy did that all the time when she had a baby in there. Does Willow have a baby inthere?”
And shit just got even morecomplicated.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow
“You’re overthinking this,”Stella says on the phone. “You can’t seriously believe Dallas is messing around with some other chick named fucking Cindy. I’ve never heard of a Cindy, which means she doesn’t get thought of aroundhere.”
I thought the night at the hotel was a crazyone.
That’s nothing compared totoday.
I spent a morning with Dallas. We hung out with his daughter. A woman told me he’d been hanging out with her. Maven asked me if I had kids, and I somewhat lied to her. I don’t have kids …yet.
“She said he’s been eating her food. Fried chicken, to be exact,” Iargue.
“And?”
“And?” I shout.Why does she not agree that this is aproblem?
“Does eating her food mean eating her vagina or something? Is fried chicken a code phrase I don’t knowabout?”
I slump down on the couch and groan. “I don’t know. I just …”Just don’t want him falling for another woman.I’d better start whipping up some food Betty Crocker–style to compete with this chick’s fried chicken. Time to call KFC for their secretrecipe.
“Trust me, you’re the only woman I’ve seen Dallas hanging out with. Shit, even talkingto.”
“You not seeing it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. You don’t see me witnessing you screwing Hudson, but I know you guysare.”
“Holy shit,” she burstsout.
“Holy shitwhat?”
“You’re falling for him, aren’t you? This isn’t about your hook-up the other night or about you wanting to get along for the baby. You’re intohim.”
“What?” I yell. “No! Absolutely not!” I’m getting good at this whole lying/denying-my-feelingsthing.
