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“I’m sure she will if you ask her nicely.”
I smile to my daughter and close the bathroom door behind me. Then I let out a heavy breath. Syd spoke to Ellie tonight. She trusts her. She is growing to love her. I just hope we aren’t both setting ourselves up for heartbreak.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Ellie
My heart feels so full. Syd spoke to me. She looked me in the eyes and spoke, and holding her in my arms felt so fulfilling as I twirled her around and we both laughed. I don’t remember feeling that kind of pure unadulterated joy, and Connor’s making me an art room. I couldn’t have asked for a better boss. He’s so kind. I have to be careful not to screw this up with my inappropriate comments. I have a knack for saying what is on my mind and in that moment, I wanted to kiss Connor into tomorrow.
I’m giddy as I brush through the knots in Syd’s hair. “I think we need to buy you a good detangler,” I say, trying to get the brush through her long auburn hair.
“Is that what you use on your hair?” she asks, looking back at me.
“I use a leave-in conditioner,” I reply. I’m still not use to hearing her soft voice directed at me, but hearing it makes me all mushy inside.
After I brush her hair, I tuck her into bed, and then cuddle beside her and read her a book. I close the book and place it on the night table.
“Good night, Ellie,” she says.
“I’m looking forward to teaching you how to paint,” I say to her.
“Me too.”
I give her a little peck on her forehead and her eyes lull shut. “I’m sorry if I ruined your things,” she mutters.
“You didn’t,” I assure.
“I wanted you to stay, that’s why I unpacked you,” she confesses.
Oh, sweet girl.
“I understand,” I say to her.
She grins and yawns. I move a few stray hairs off her face. “You go to sleep now.”
“Okay.” She yawns again.
“Sweet dreams,” I say, but her eyes are already closed.
I head back to my room and change out of my sweater and jeans since I feel too warm. I slip on a light heather-gray cropped T-shirt and a pair of pink cotton shorts, and I also put my hair in a messy bun on my head since I will be helping Connor with his bath.
I trudge across the hall to his room feeling butterflies floating aimlessly in my stomach. If I was in trouble where he was concerned before, then I am in even bigger trouble now.
His door is slightly ajar, so I give it a little knock since I see him looking down at his laptop. He looks up. “Come in.”
“Are you ready for your bath?” I ask.
“That would be great, thanks, Ellie.” I no longer have to help him get his feet off the bed since he is healing well.
My eyes roam over every delicious part of his body. Slowly making their way down to his pectorals, which are perfectly shaped, then farther down to the ridges and planes of his too perfect eight-pack.
“Ellie?”
“Sorry.” My eyes snap to his and lock. “That body of yours is just. . . so perfect.”
Did I just say that? I blink twice, trying to get my wits about me.
“I’ll go fill that bath,” I mutter.
