AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That same list now scrolling through my head has me wondering how the hell I became an instant-father.
None of this was part of the plan.
I don’t show any panic, though. I’ve trained myself over the years how to not give away any tells that my heart is pounding in my chest and my lungs are constricting.
Rule number one of any card game: never reveal your hand.
Clara must not know the rules. She’s sitting in her seat, gazing out the tinted window, and doing nothing to hide her own worries.
I’d tried to get her to sit next to the kid once I got us all in, but Clara saw the way I’ve apparently become a human pillow and slid into a different seat so I could continue to perform that function.
I don’t know what has me panicking more: the fact that Clara Everett’s child seems to think I’m some sort of safety and comfort…
… or that I’m not exactly hating it.
When the car pulls up the long driveway, Clara’s eyes widen. I’m not sure what she expected, but it clearly wasn’t the vast estate we’re now rolling into.
Even in the desert, the grass is lush and green. Where there isn’t vibrant lawn, my landscapers have worked true artistry with desert foliage and colorful rocks to blend elegance with the arid climate.
I have a fleeting thought that the kid—Willow, I think?—will love running around the grass. Maybe get her a soccer ball, a jump rope, some toys…
And then I shake the thought away. None of that is my concern. I’m officially delegating all parental concerns to Clara and Bambi. Leave me the fuck out of it.
Willow wakes up when the car pulls to a stop. I swear, the kid could sleep through a full-on gun fight. That might not be a bad thing.
“Mommy?” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.
Clara smiles and turns to her. “Hey, baby girl. We’re going to stay with a friend for a while. This is Demyen.”
I look down at Willow, who has to lean back just to see my face. Her eyes go wide. I smile, just so she’s not terrified of me. It’s easier to deal with kids when they’re not kicking and screaming.
“Wow.” She practically breathes the word. “You’re… really, really big.”
“Willow!” Clara starts to scold her, but my chuckle stops her.
“And you’re really, really little,” I observe, raising an eyebrow.
That seems to be satisfactory. Kid logic, I guess. She peers at me, and I’m struck by how much her eyes look like her mother’s. “Are you my mommy’s friend?”
“Yes, I am.”
No, I’m not.
I bite my tongue. Mostly because I’m not exactly certain which one is the lie. I’m not liking this confusion when everything is supposed to be black and white, on and off, right and wrong.
I live in a clear-cut world.
This shit is a fucking mess I never wanted.
But as Willow smiles at me, her face full of sweet innocence, my gut says everything is incredibly blurry. It’s gray, dim, and questionable.
No—it’s fuckingirritating, is what it is.
I push the door open, feeling like I could rip it off the hinges with the sheer energy crawling under my skin. I have to channel it allinto that one emotion. Anger into irritation, fear into irritation, even affection and admiration and whatever the fuck kind of sensual magic this woman wove over me last night—it all goes into irritation.
Butfuck,Clara looks beautiful just standing at the entrance of the main house, hand in hand with her daughter, a gentle breeze just barely teasing the skirt of her dress.
She looks like she belongs in my home.
