But after a second of suspicious appraisal, his expression softened, and he tilted his head to the side. “Monny?”
She smiled. “Yep, I’m Monny. Nice to meet you, Charlie.”
“Monny pretty.” He kicked his feet. “Down!”
As soon as Josh set him down, Charlie grabbed Monica’s hand and dragged her to the stairs.
“Uh…” Becca chased after them, but Monica was fine. She could supervise a toddler on the stairs.
She gave the young mom—who wasn’t much younger than her—a fast wave. “We’re good.”
Charlie climbed, fearless in his adventuring, and Monica hovered right behind him. Just before they lost sight of the main level, he hollered, “Buh-bye, Mama,” and everyone laughed.
Upstairs, he poked his head into one bedroom, then the next. Like most vacation homes, it was nicely decorated, but very empty.
“No toys up here, little guy,” she murmured.
Then the bedroom door ahead of them opened—and her mother stepped out, looking crisp and cool.
And not alone.
Behind her, Trent Aitken was adjusting his shirt.
“Mom!”
Bianca’s step halted for a split-second, but then she dropped her gaze to Charlie. “You’ve found a child.”
Well, that was one way to avoid talking about whatever had just happened behind closed doors.
Not that Monica was one to talk. She’d had sex with Josh three times today.
Charlie pivoted far too fast for Monica’s liking, and she sprinted to the top of the stairs to cut him off.
He giggled.
“How do you go down the stairs? Do you get down on your belly?”
He giggled harder and ran straight at her.
Panic flooded her limbs, and she caught him against her body.
“Monny pretty,” he said, then immediately started thrashing. “Down!”
“Becca,” she called out. “How does he go down the stairs?”
“At a terrifying top speed of a hundred miles an hour,” his mother called from downstairs. “Charlie! On your bum, please.”
Monica gave her mother awe’ll talk about this laterlook, which Bianca ignored, and they all went downstairs together, Monica’s pulse not settling back to anything near normal until Charlie was safely on the ground floor again.
* * *
Josh hadn’t wantedto do a big family dinner.
But as he watched Monica cuddle with Charlie, sandwiched between Becca and Catie on the sofa in front of the fireplace, he wondered what other amazing ideas he’d rejected far too quickly.
“I can see why my ex-husband felt threatened by you,” Bianca said, sliding onto the seat next to him. She had a glass of wine in her hand. Rosé.
Josh wondered if Trent had made that appear. Or if Bianca had manifested it out of thin air.
