Austin blinked, flipping a pancake without missing a beat. “My nails?”
“Yeah.” She held up her small hands, still sticky with syrup. “I wanna practice before school. Mom said I can bring nail polish for my friends during recess.”
I opened my mouth to intervene—save him, maybe. “Win, I’m sure Austin doesn’t?—”
He grinned. “Sure I do.”
The words were so easy, so unhesitant, they caught me off guard.
“You do?” Winnie squealed.
Austin shot me a grin over his shoulder, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, a deal’s a deal. She’s been asking since last week.”
“I have sparkly purple!” Winnie announced proudly. “You’ll look fabulous.”
Austin placed the spatula down and piled the pancakes high. “After you eat, you can do your worst, kiddo.”
My heart gave a traitorous little tug.
After breakfast, he didn’t flinch when Winnie started her work, her tiny brows furrowed in concentration as she painted each nail with meticulous care. He even blew on his fingers dramatically between coats, making her dissolve into laughter.
Even as thoughts tumbled through me and sharpened in my chest, a softer one unfurled beneath it.
Why does this feel so right?
By the time she was done, Winnie had painted all ten of Austin’s nails, and most of the skin around them, a bright glittering purple. Satisfied with her work, Winnie bounded away from the table, and I caught her in a hug. “Not so fast. You know the rules. Clean up your mess, please. Then it’s time to get dressed for school.”
Winnie barely grumbled; she was used to my reminders. As she trudged away, her discarded backpack caught her attention, and she started rifling through it.
With a grin, Winnie waved a crumpled paper in my direction, her sticky fingers smudging the edges. “My music program! I’m gonna sing a solo!”
My brows rose as I reached for it, smoothing the creases. “You are? That’s wonderful, baby.”
“I’m gonna be so loud,” she said with a grin, her front tooth still missing and her voice bubbling with excitement.
Then she turned those big hopeful eyes on Austin. “Will you come too?”
Austin placed a hand to his chest like she’d struck him straight through. “Front row. Loudest clapper in Star Harbor. Deal?”
“Deal!” Winnie giggled, flinging her arms around his neck.
Something in me ached as I watched them.
He wasn’t her father. He wasn’t mine to keep either—not really.
But in this small, sunlit kitchen, with the smell of pancakes in the air and Winnie’s laughter bouncing off the walls, I let myself imagine what it would feel like if he was.
Just for a second.
The rest of the morning wrapped in a flurry of syrupy fingers, giggles, and Austin pretending he couldn’t use his newly painted hands to clear plates. Winnie chattered nonstop about school as Austin pulled her jacket over her shoulders.
“I can’t wait to show my friends your nail polish,” she said to Austin, already halfway to the door.
“I love you,” I called. “Have an amazing day!”
“I will!” Her head poked back through the door for only a moment. “Love you!”
Austin caught my gaze. There was something quiet in his expression, something that felt heavier than words.
