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“Your orders are ready!” Ainsley appears at the window. Her brown waves are flying out of her barrette as she hands us our make-believe sorbets. “What can I get you for lunch?”
“Lunch after dessert?” he asks.
She oozes sass as she speaks with a swish of her arm and head. “It’s a pretend diner.”
“Oh. I thought it was a sorbet truck.” He nods and looks to me in confusion, but I smile, letting him know to just roll with the role-playing. Preschoolers can be quite the pivot masters of activity. He places his order. “Can I get a hamburger and fries?”
I lean down so she can see my face as I ask, “Chicken Caesar salad.”
Luke looks up at me. “It’s pretend. Would it kill you to order fast food?”
“Not good for the figure. Real or pretend.”
He laughs at my use of the line he said while playing tea party the other night as his eyes roam up and down my body. The slight widening of his pupils and the quirk of his lips show just what he thinks of my figure.
“Eyes up,” I admonish. “Besides, there’s not much to see.”
“Digging for compliments is beneath you. I remember a certain catamaran ride around the island. You wore a one-piece, and I almost lost my cool in the middle of the Caribbean.”
“Luke, you had zero chill in Aruba.”
“You’re right.” He smiles. It’s bright and luminous, making him look carefree and youthful—very much like the one he wore on that boat while he sang into the wind, shirtless, fearless, golden.
Sure, he’s smiled and even laughed lightly a time or two the past few times I’ve seen him, but this look right here has me inhaling sharply.
“What’s the face for?” he asks.
“Your smile,” I answer honestly. “You just … it’s the first time since reconnecting that you’ve looked like … well, you.”
My words settle on him as Ainsley serves our orders.
“Boring salad for Mom. Burger and Frenchie fries for Luke.”
His brows shoot up. Luke’s tongue sits behind his front teeth as he tilts his head toward me with narrowed eyes. I plaster on a smile and ask Ainsley for ketchup. She scurries away to her imaginary kitchen.
Luke stands tall, his tall frame imposing as I turn to face him.
I already know what he’s going to say.
“You thought I told her. Luke, this needs some easing into.”
“It’s pretty simple.Ainsley, Luke is your father.”
My hands settle on my hips. “This isn’tMaury. You don’t make blanket statements like that to a little kid.”
He matches my stance. “It’s the truth.”
“She could get hurt. I did a lot of research the past few days about this situation.”
“What did you Google—how to introduce a kid to a dad who didn’t know she existed?”
“Kind of. The most important thing is to prepare her by talking about you, which I have been. Not as her dad, but as a man and a friend. We’re supposed to avoid a sudden meeting, but you already met her. I want her to get to know you first and then ease her into it.”
“I’m her dad, Jillian.”
“You don’t get to claim the term until you prove to her that you’re worthy. You didn’t want her once. How do I know you’re going to be everything she wishes you to be?”
His mouth is in a flat line as he looks up to the clear sky and lets out an exasperated groan. “I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
