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“I don’t have a mom.” She shrugs, “I have a dad sometimes, not always.”
“Oh, baby cakes,” I pull her to me, maybe more for myself than her. “You always have a dad. He’s just not always able tobewith you. But you have a dad.”
The impact of my words seems minimal, but Rainey nods in agreement. The truth is she’s not heard from her dad in three months. I can’t remember being six, so I’m not sure if it registers to her how long it’s been. She had nightmares and was upset about missing her dad when she first came to live with me. The nightmares and moodiness are almost gone now, and I can’t remember the last time she mentioned her dad.
“I’m sorry for what that boy said. It’s not true, but it probably still hurt. But, Rae—we don’t solve problems by hitting anyone. If you tell your teacher and she doesn’t fix it, what should you do next?”
“Tell you?” Her big blue eyes peer at me through her blonde lashes.
“Exactly. Tell me. I’ll always have your back and help you fix whatever’s going on. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. And I can’t help if you’re hitting people.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Want me to send Maggie back up to play until dinnertime?”
“Uh. Can we watch a movie instead?”
“Yeah. Let’s head downstairs. Whatcha want to watch?”
“Encanto!”
As I feared,Encantois all she’ll want to watch for weeks, which means the catchy songs will never leave my head.
Logan’s been busy in the kitchen with Maggie. He’s pulled up a chair and given his daughter a spatula to help. I’m not sure what he’s making, but my stomach rolls over, my hunger refusing to be ignored.
“Rainey wants to watchEncantoagain while you’re making dinner. Is it okay for Maggie to join her?”
Logan looks at Maggie. “Want to finish helping me with dinner? Or want to watch a movie with Rainey?”
“Movie.” She pops off the chair and doesn’t look back.
“Want a sous-chef replacement?” I slide up beside him, offering my limited services, while bopping along to the music coming from the movie in the living room.
“Sure do.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he makes space for me.
“What are we making?”
“Spaghetti. And before you groan, this is my redemption, okay? I Googled instructions, and I’m setting timers to prevent a repeat of the disaster at the apartment.”
“I wasn’t going to bring it up,” I assure him.
He hands me a cheese grater and a block of parmesan, and I get to work. We move around each other with ease as the meal comes together. With the cheese grated and Logan neurotically checking on the garlic bread in the oven, I step aside, awaiting his next instructions.
“Can you grab the onion and garlic powder?”
“I’m positive I have neither of those in this house.”
“You do. I picked them up for this spaghetti. They’re in the cabinet beside the fridge.”
I throw open the cabinet to search for the spices and feel Logan behind me, reaching overhead to show me where he placed them. IfeelLogan behind me as he brushes the front of his body against the back of mine, pulling down the containers he needs that I can’t reach. My stomach flips, and my heart races as all thefeelingsgeyser to the surface with a vengeance.
We both stand together a second too long before separating our bodies. He steps back and places the spices on the counter, a flush creeping across his cheeks and the tips of his ears reddening. “Sorry.”
I’m not sorry. The accidental touch between us felt good. It’s been ages since a man sent sparks of electricity through my body with such a simple movement. I’m not sorry—but I should be. I hold Logan’s gaze and wonder what he’s thinking.
“Let’s finish up dinner,” I suggest. The girls were completely engrossed in the movie and saw nothing. Logan clears his throat and agrees. I can’t help but notice he keeps some extra space between us.
