I stare at the girls, Scarlett already nestled close to Zoey and fast asleep again. I grind my teeth and hear Ivy’s voice lilting over the memory of Shelby.Go to bed.
This is a risky fall, Chad Harrell. You’ve been here before. Why would you go down this road when you know the wreck it ends in?It’s Shelby’s voice that taunts me in the lazy, indifferent drawl from the last time I saw her.
I’m not going down this road. It’s long past time to hit the brakes.
CHAPTER 11
IVY
“Miss Ivy? Miss Ivy?”
My eyes are so heavy it takes the girls repeating my name several more times before I can force them open to see Scarlett and Zoey lying on their stomachs, their faces within inches of mine.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Ivy!” Zoey cries, a grin splitting her face.
I stifle a huge yawn. I laid in bed, staring into the darkness and replaying over and over the moment Chad almost kissed me last night. I don’t know how late it was before I finally fell asleep. Late enough that whatever time it is right now feels too early.
“Good morning,” I murmur, but I can’t help the smile that starts. I don’t regret letting Chad talk me into spending the night in their room last night so that I could have this moment. Despite my sleepiness, it’s one of the sweetest Christmas morning wake-ups I can remember in a long time.
“Come on, Miss Ivy,” Scarlett says, finding my hand and slipping off the bed to tug me gently. “We have a surprise for you.”
“WE MADE YOU PANCAKES!” Zoey shouts.
Scarlett turns and scowls at her sister, and I bite back a snort of laughter. “It was supposed to be a surprise, Zoey,” she hisses.
Zoey’s eyes go wide, and she looks at me and then at Scarlett. “Oh no.”
Scarlett immediately softens. “It’s okay, Zo. Everyone makes mistakes.”
I want to pull her into my arms and snuggle her at the big-sister sweetness. I want them both in my arms. They struggled after Shelby left, and Carlie has told me about the difficult times in the beginning when Scarlett parroted some of Shelby’s more critical habits. They’re both so much happier, so much more confident.
I’m falling in love with them.
I ignore what that might mean about how I feel about their dad.
But it’s normal to be smitten by adorable children. It can happen to anyone.
“Let’s go find out what the surprise is,” I say, swinging my legs off the bed and reaching for my crutches. I wink at Zoey, and both girls laugh.
When I come into the main room of the suite, Chad looks up from where he sits at the small, round table in the kitchenette. He was reading something on his phone, and the fact that he slides reading glasses off to look up at me should be off-putting, but instead it’s … sexy. His reading glasses are trendy, a thick black frame that’s classic and modern. The way he hooks them over his shirt collar is so nerdy that it’s adorable.
It draws my attention to his eyes, and I remember how close he was last night, how heady it was when he stared at me. How much I wanted to kiss him.
I shouldn’t have agreed to spend the night here. I didn’t need to. I would have been fine bingeing Christmas rom-coms while Carlie and Law spent time together and Chad did Christmas Eve with his girls. Being a part of their family traditions, even away from home, has muddied everything up.
I wouldn’t change any of it.
“Merry Christmas,” Chad says, standing up to come toward me. I wave him off and lean on the crutches. I can make it to the table without his help. And if he holds me around the waist again … I might lose all ability to keep my hands off him.
And not just to keep myself steady.
Still, he hovers, like he expects me to fall over at any second. The girls dart back and forth between the kitchen and me multiple times as I make my way to the table. Maybe it’s fair that he’s keeping close. He probably expects one of them to trip me and we’ll have a repeat of me losing my balance the night before.
Hmmm. Maybe I could fake that.
He holds out a chair for me when I get to the little table, and I slip into it, leaning my crutches against a nearby wall. Zoey brings over a stack of plates and some forks, placing it in front of me and then beaming before passing them out around the table. Scarlett follows with a plate piled with … interesting-looking pancakes. I press my lips together, holding back my smile at their appearance—a little thin and browner than most people like. Maybe bordering on black in some parts.
A sudden bolt of longing shoots through me, and something sticks in my throat at the memories of my mother that those less-than-perfect pancakes bring up. I share a look with Chad, hoping he doesn’t notice my reaction since he’d likely assume I’m disappointed in them. He smiles at me, a mix of pride and amusement, and thankfully doesn’t seem concerned about anything that might be showing in my expression.
