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“I can come and help, too, Daddy.” She jumps to her feet, and it kills me.
It makes sense to bring her since she has her own room at the villa, but I have no one to watch her there. I will not bring her to a fucking courthouse and make her see Cormac in shackles.
“Not this time, honey. Olivia will stay with you.”
“What about my party tomorrow?” She sounds worried I won’t be home. “I need to bring my own cupcakes.”
She reminds me we haven’t bought the nut-free cake mix we need because she’s highly allergic.
Shopping and baking were on the agenda for our day together. For all her little parties, Brownie meetings, and soccer games, I send her with her own snacks and sweets.
“Sophie, let’s go to the market right now and get your cupcake mix.” Olivia saves me, snagging her coat and umbrella from the hall tree.
“Cool!”
Uncle Cormac’s accident is quickly forgotten. Thank goodness for short attention spans.
Olivia helps Sophie with her coat and above a whisper, she says to me, “I’m sure my mother won’t mind if I skip helping her just this once. I’ll make the cupcakes, too, Dr. O’Rourke.”
The tone of her voice, tempting me to give in to her advances, sits on a razor edge of what’s right for me and Sophie.
Saving myself, I say, “I’ll call you from Vegas after I have my brother.”
“Okay.” She smiles with hope on her lips.
She’s attractive, but I swear, I feel nothing for her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I stopped having feelings for Ginny years ago. How could I love someone who doesn’t want to live with me and her own daughter?
“Sophie?” I wave her over and finish buttoning her coat. “I won’t be here when you get back, but I’ll be home as soon as I can. I will take you to your party tomorrow. I promise.” I kiss her forehead.
“Okay, Daddy,” she says with a wobbly voice, pushing back a sudden wash of tears, worrying I’ll break that promise.
When she stretches her little arms as far as they can reach around my neck, it strikes a nerve in my heart.
We’re fine. We’re just fine, she and I.
I don’t need anyone else.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Darragh
The private plane gets me to the front of the take-off line out of Sea-Tac, and we land on the priority tarmac in Las Vegas, too.
When we touch down, I call Taryn.
“You’re cutting it close, mate.”
“Stall,” I bite out, thinking of all the money I give him. “You’re a detective first grade.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He ends the call in a huff, signaling he’ll want extra cash this month.
I hop into the limo I ordered while on the plane. I was supposed to be at the courthouse by four p.m.
It’s five after when we tear out of the hangar.
