Her shadow moves quickly. She scrambles in front of me to stand on wobbly legs.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry she woke you.” She darts past me, her sweet, sugary scent stunning me long enough for Charleigh's cries to stop.
I snap out of it and flip on the light.
Shock keeps my feet planted as I gape at the floor.
A heaping pile of blankets and one measly little pillow stare back at me. Her suitcase is off to the side, next to Stella, the headless mannequin, and that’s it. I shift my attention to the door, and then back to her makeshift bed.
Why is she sleeping on the floor? Where is her bed? Did the moving company forget it, and she didn’t want to tell me?
I reach up and squeeze the back of my neck before exhaling deeply. I calmly flip the light switch off, shut the door, and walk into the hallway.
I rest my back against the wall, cross my arms, and wait.
With Charleigh’s bedroom door cracked, I have the perfect view of Reese. It doesn’t take her long to soothe Charleigh back to sleep. She stands in the middle of the mostly empty room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that hits mid-thigh, her long dark hair in soft fallen waves behind her shoulders. She sways back and forth for a couple of minutes before padding over to a tiny crib-like bed for Charleigh with see-through mesh sides. Reese practically has to bend in half to lay her down, and the only thing that does is pull my eyes to her backside.
Her t-shirt rides up, revealing a round curve. Heat pools in my veins, but just as quickly as her ass appears, it disappears. She tiptoes backward out of the room, keeping her sights on her daughter before gently pulling the door shut and exhaling.
She turns, and her eyes grow wide. A hand flies to her mouth, muffling her yelp.
“Oh my god!” she whisper-yells. “You scared me half to death!”
I raise an eyebrow and keep my arms crossed. “What the hell, Reese?”
She glances to the ceiling as her shoulders slump. “I know. I’m so sorry she woke you up. I usually hear her. I think I was just so tired because of the game. I promise I won’t let that happen again.”
I pop up from slouching against the wall. “No. That’s not–” I pinch the bridge of my nose. She thinks I’m upset because of her daughter crying?
“You’re angry, right?” she asks quietly.
I drop my hand. “No! Wait, yes!”
Reese’s eyes crinkle on the sides.
“I’m not angry about Charleigh crying. Why would I ever be upset with you over that?”
What kind of man does she think I am? And why am I so bothered over her thinking that I’m the type of man who’d scold her for something like that?
“I’m confused,” she admits, nibbling on her lip.
“Me too.” I reach out and grab onto her wrist. I gently tug her behind me into her room before shutting the door. This conversation calls for more than whispers in a dark hallway.
“I’m angry because you’re sleeping on the floor.” I gesture to the bundled blankets. “Where the hell is your bed?”
That pretty shade of pink spreads over her cheeks.
“Oh…” The word floats in between us like a feather.
When she doesn’t answer my question, I decide to start guessing.
“Did the moving company forget your bed?”
Those big, round, brown eyes skip to mine, and she shakes her head.
“Did they break it?”
Again, she shakes her head.
