They’d shared so many secrets over the years that Hallie knew she could trust her sister not to share this conversation with anyone. That should’ve made her feel better.
Yet something still nagged at her. In some ways, Elise had shed light on Hallie’s dilemma about Christian. Unfortunately, she’d also realized that she might have a teeny tiny crush on him after all.
But if she gave in to it, that teeny tiny crush had the potential of changing the entire trajectory of her future.
What a terrifying thought.
From the floor in Isla’s room, Christian stared at the computer screen. The website updates he’d been working on for the last hour blurred in front of him. Giving in to a yawn, he rubbed his palms against his eyelids and closed his laptop. The soft glow of Isla’s nightlight—a quirky, non-scary replica of a haunted house to go along with the Halloween princess vibe—replaced the harsh blue light of the screen.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he listened for any sounds indicating his daughter had fallen asleep. Quiet snores coming from Pumpkin lying on the shag carpet next to him reached his ears instead, so he leaned his head against the wall for a minute to rest.
Was he enabling Isla’s sleep troubles by hanging out in her room until she fell asleep every night? Mom seemed to think so. But she’d never experienced raising a child with challenges as severe as Isla’s. Bedtime was far less painful if he didn’t have to redo the routine a dozen times.
After several minutes of silence coming from Isla’s bed, he slid his laptop off his legs and pushed himself from the floor. He arched his back, and a satisfying pop eased the crick that had settled in his spine from sitting for so long.
Approaching his daughter’s bed, he watched her for a moment, willing the frustrations of the day to melt away. Too many times, his anger toward Sabrina had made him wish he’d done things differently in his life. Like not eloping, for one thing. If they’d continued to date instead of rushing into an impulsive marriage, her red flags would have surely come out before it was too late. He could’ve spared himself the agony their divorce had created. And his children could’ve come under happier circumstances too.
But that was the catch, wasn’t it? Without Sabrina, he wouldn’t have the girls. And he couldn’t imagine his life without them.
With a weary sigh, Christian turned from the bed, nudging Pumpkin with his foot on his way to the door. The dog lifted her head long enough to huff out an annoyed grunt.
“Come on,” he muttered, digging his toes deeper into her side. Pumpkin let out a low whine and Christian froze, darting a glance in Isla’s direction. If she wasn’t deeply under, he’d be back on the floor to start the process all over again. Her breath stuttered, but she only rolled over and settled deeper into her pillow with a sigh. Pumpkin reluctantly stood and followed him into the hall.
Tucking his laptop under his arm, he closed Isla’s door partway, then poked his head into Penelope’s room. The child slept soundly, her legs tucked underneath her belly, and her arm hooked around her favorite blanket. Thank goodness he had one champion sleeper. It never took more than a story and a few minutes of snuggling in the glider chair to get her down.
With both girls finally asleep, the weight he carried around every day lifted somewhat. Rolling his shoulders, he headed downstairs, not bothering to turn the lights on in the living room. The one from the upstairs hallway provided enough of a glow for him to see. He lowered himself onto the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. Hoping to get in a few hours of work before crashing himself, he opened his laptop.
Princess Pumpkin jumped up beside him, turning in a circle before lowering herself onto the couch cushion and resting her head on top of Christian’s computer keys.
“Needy mutt,” he cooed, scratching the retriever behind the ears before nudging her head off his lap so he could work.
Pumpkin curled her face into her chest next to him, and they settled into their typical evening ritual of him catching up on work while she dozed. He’d always pictured spending these kid-free hours cuddling with Sabrina—not the dog—and reconnecting after work. Or slow dancing in the kitchen while doing the dishes. Even talkingwhile folding laundry had once seemed like the perfect way to end a day.
But now he knew what marriage really involved. Those desires were only for the naïve saps who hadn’t yet fallen from the clouds.
“It could be worse, right?” he muttered to himself. At least he wasn’t shackled to that misery any longer.
Princess Pumpkin snored in her sleep, and Christian’s eyes flicked to her. Silly mutt. She didn’t seem to mind his shortcomings. And she wasn’t trying to find new reasons to blame him for their circumstances. It only took a full food dish, lots of walks, and a little affection to keep her happy.
As he turned away from the dog, he noticed the box Hallie had delivered earlier, illuminated by the upstairs hall light. He’d forgotten all about tossing it onto the coffee table after coming inside. Even more surprising was that neither of the girls had spotted it either. They were like bloodhounds when it came to sweets.
A nighttime snack sounded kind of nice right now. He moved his laptop to the couch cushion on his other side so it wouldn’t slide off his lap as he reached for the box. Pumpkin startled awake, snorting as she jumped off the couch and padded into the kitchen.
Christian stared at the box, his mind drifting back to this afternoon when Hallie had appeared in his driveway. The shock of seeing her had wiped clean the rational side of his brain, rendering him incapable of having a normal conversation. He couldn’t recall what he’d said to her, or anything else about the interaction, for that matter. Except the part where Isla had physically assaulted her, of course. Who could forget that?
A wave of guilt turned his stomach. Should he reach out to her to make sure she really was okay? He thought he’d muttered an apology in the moment, but again, in his mentally blacked-out state, he could’ve asked her what she liked for breakfast for all he knew. It was safe to say he wouldn’t be seeing her again.
Ignoring the surprising disappointment that realization caused, he flipped open the box and pulled out a cookie—chocolate chip, on closer inspection. He returned his attention to the website on hiscomputer screen. As he toggled to the page’s html code, he absentmindedly took a bite, and…
Whoa.
He stopped typing, glancing at the cookie with wide eyes. He’d eaten a lot of chocolate chip cookies in his twenty-seven years of life, but apparently, not all were created equal. Andthiswas a little slice of heaven. Crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a little kick of spice to make it unforgettable.
Was everything Hallie made this fantastic?
He finished off the cookie, immediately reaching for another. If more people knew of her talent, she’d have enough clients to keep her bakery running for years. Yet she’d admitted that her business was struggling. Impossible. The people of Buena Hills didn’t know what they were missing.
Popping the last of the second cookie into his mouth, he slid his laptop back onto his thighs. He clicked out of the legal website he’d been working on—with its straight lines and boring colors—and logged into the dashboard for Hallie’s Cakes. Although she hadn’t sent him a full list of products she wanted displayed on the menu page, he at least had enough information and photos from what was already there to get started.
