“Where are you staying?”
“My dad’s. We’re keeping an eye on the place while he’s out of town on some once-in-a-lifetime fishing trip.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Dad was on a fishing trip, but I’d been the one to plan the whole damn thing for him and a few of his friends, so we had a verifiable excuse for coming back to Ashwood other than Charlie’s newfound interest in farm animals.
Cleo’s forced smile faltered at the mention of my parents. Did she know how hard it was to not only be back here, but also stay in the house I grew up in? Did she know how badly those ghosts haunted me?
But before I could give voice to any of that, she straightened her spine and stuck out her hand. “Well, Charlie… Let’s take it day by day, okay? We have a long way to go before you can call yourself a cowgirl.” Cleo sucked in a breath as Charlie’s palm landed in hers. It was short and quick, but I’d seen it all the same. She thrust a packet of papers into my chest. “Here is her information packet. It has all our numbers in it if you have any questions about camp curriculum or safety.”
“And this includeseveryone’snumber? I really want to make sure I have more than one point of contact,” I said, trying to hide my absolute glee as I found her phone number. It was the same one I’d left a message for last October. Even after we left, I tried to call and text her, to explain to her why I had to go back and that it was temporary, but every one of them went straight to voicemail.
Cleo’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Yes,” she mumbled. “But it’s for camp purposes only. Any other topics of conversation will go unanswered.”
We’ll see about that.“Of course. It’d be unprofessional otherwise.”
“It would,” she agreed, finally meeting my gaze.
“Maybe I should call you right now so we can make sure you have my number,” I said, reaching into my pocket for my phone.
“No, it’s fine,” Cleo squeaked, scrambling for her own. “I have your information on the sign-up?—”
Too late. I scrolled through my contacts, pressing the little call icon beside her name. It rang once before going straight to voicemail—just like it always had. “Straight to voicemail.”
“So strange,” she said, tapping furiously at her screen. “Must be bad service or something. I’ll have to look into that.”
“You should. Especially since this appears to be an ongoing issue.”
Cleo glanced away, jaw set in a hard line. Was it a dick move to call her out like that? Maybe, but she needed to know I hadn’t walked away last year without trying to make amends. The ball had been in her court for too damn long, and I was done waiting to play by her rules.
Charlie stepped in front of us with her hands on her hips. “Can we see the ponies now?”
Cleo’s gaze dropped. “I need to stay behind and check everyone in so they can see them, too.”
“Oh,” Charlie said, shuffling her feet. “Can my daddy take me?”
“I’m sure your dad is busy?—”
“Sure, baby girl. I can do that. You don’t mind, right? I mean, I know my way around here pretty well if you recall,” I interrupted before she got the chance to shoo me away. I bent down, hoisting Charlie in my arms, and began the short trek to the round pens.
“Grady…” Her voice was a low growl. A warning. I fucking loved it. Maybe if I pushed her buttons enough, she’d finally stop hiding behind this aloof version of the girl I used to know.
“Bye, Cleo! Have fun checking off your to-do list! Don’t forget to check into that issue with your phone, though. I‘d hate for you to miss an important call, or something.” I’d only takentwo steps before her hand snagged around my bicep, halting me.
We both stopped, looking down to the point of contact where we were skin on skin. The moment she touched me was like an electric current. Based on how fast she withdrew her hand, I was willing to bet she felt it too.
“Charlie needs a nametag,” she said with a huff, popping the cap off her marker. With careful strokes, she spelled out my daughter’s name and peeled off the sticker. “Here you go.”
I took it from her, carefully sticking it onto Charlie’s shirt. She looked down at it, beaming. “Look, Daddy! It’s my name.”
I hugged her a little tighter. “It sure is, sunshine. Can you tell Miss Cleo thank you?”
“Thank you, Miss Cleo!” Charlie sang.
Cleo hesitated before I heard her say, “You’re very welcome, Charlie.”
She turned on her heel, heading back to the growing line at registration. To everyone else, I bet her smile seemed genuine, but I knew it was anything but. Every move she made was rigid, like it was taking everything she had not to run for the hills.
God, I wished she would let me in. I wished she would let me show her how desperate I was for her. How, after all the years and bullshit and distance, I still found myself yearning for her like I did when I was sixteen. I wished she would let me make up for all that lost time and show her what it would’ve been like if I hadn’t had my head stuck so far up my ass I lost sight of what was truly important.
Her.
