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“Don’t wave to her,” Ally hissed as he raised two fingers off the wheel to acknowledge the woman striding down the path in Lycra tights and a crop top.
“Just being polite.”
“She’ll think you want to date her. Jackie Lee Haven dates everyone,” Ally said.
“You’re seven. How do you know this?”
“Helena told me.”
“I’m not sure seven-year-old girls should discuss this kind of adult thing.”
She did the eye roll she’d also perfected lately. “Helena is nine. I know who you should date,” Ally said.
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and why you haven’t handed in your assignment.”
“I had other stuff to do,” she muttered.
“What other stuff?”
“Not telling.”
She’d been a sweet little girl. He’d carried her around, swinging her upside down, and she’d had a husky little chuckle that touched his soul. Ally was raised with plenty of love after her mother decided she didn’t want a child in her life. Sawyer had plenty of thoughts about that and none of them good, but like his family, he kept them to himself. Between them, they’d all learned real quick about parenting. Brody excelled at being a daddy.
“It’s boy trouble?” Sawyer hoped he was wrong.
“I’m seven. No, eww, gross!”
“That’s good then,” he muttered. “Girl trouble?”
“No.”
“And it’s not that you’re being bullied?”
She shook her head.
“You can’t do the assignment and didn’t want to ask for help?”
She gave him a look that said he was dumb.
“I give up.”
“Good, because I’m not telling you.”
“Ally, if it’s stopping you handing in schoolwork, and keeping up grades, you need to tell someone.”
“I’m seven. Grades aren’t that important.”
“Did you hear that from a teacher?”
“Can I get a tattoo, Uncle Sawyer?”
“What? No!”
“But you’re getting one.”
“Because I’m old and can make my own decisions and have my own money. You’re seven. You have to be at least twenty-five before you can make your own choices.”
“Dad said eighteen.”
