Tate scrunches her little nose. “Why?”
“Well…”
“Oh my God,” Tilly whispers at my side and tenses just like I did.
Tate giggles. “Morning, Tilly.”
If the kid’s traumatized by Tilly’s presence, she’s not letting on. Tate seems excited there’s another woman in the house, and it doesn’t hurt that Tilly’s always giving her cupcakes.
“I’m sorry.” Tilly pushes herself upright while glancing up at me with nothing but fear in her eyes.
“Don’t be sorry,” Tate answers for me. “Daddy was just going to make us breakfast.”
Tate and her food. She’d probably be more upset about missing a meal than she is about finding Tilly and me fast asleep on the couch.
“I should go.” Tilly scoots to the edge of the couch. She’s about to get up, but Tate puts her hand out, stopping Tilly in her tracks.
“No.” Tate shakes her head. “You can’t.”
I move to the edge of the couch next to Tilly. “Why not?”
Tate toys with the edge of her unicorn nightgown, looking at us from under her ridiculously long eyelashes. “Because she’s hungry.”
“I’m not really much of a morning eater,” Tilly tells Tate.
Tate’s mouth drops open, and she lowers her head. “You don’t eat breakfast?”
Tilly looks at me out of the corner of her eye and grimaces. “No.”
Tate’s still in shock. She’s staring at Tilly like she’s an oddity in a sideshow. “I’d die of starvation.”
I glance at Tilly and roll my eyes. “She’s a little dramatic.”
Tate crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “I am not.”
“And she’s feisty in the morning.”
“I’m hungry,” she whines and points to her stomach, always ready to eat. “Can you make Tilly and me pancakes?”
I don’t even bother arguing with her. There’s no getting her to change her mind when her belly isn’t full. She’s like a little monster. She takes hangry to a whole new level.
“You should stay,” I tell Tilly because I want her to know I’m okay with it.
If Tate’s not freaking out about Tilly being there, I can let it slide if it makes her happy. Plus, it’ll be nice to have an adult to talk to over breakfast instead of just two little kids.
Tate jumps from the coffee table and starts to run around the room, cheering in victory. “Best breakfast ever!” She pumps her fists in the air.
Tilly turns toward me until our knees are almost touching. “Are you sure?”
I remember the way she made me feel last night. “I am. Plus—” I tick my chin toward Tate who’s still celebrating her victory “—she’s happy, and so am I. I’ll start breakfast. You just relax.”
I want to kiss her again, but I stop myself. Tate’s seen enough for one day, and kissing Tilly in front of her wouldn’t be right.
Tate stands near the hallway, waving her arms. “Tilly, come see my room.”
She’s adorable, even when she’s a total pain in my ass. If I’m not careful, my mother and sister will turn her into a monster by the time she’s eighteen. The thought alone gives me a headache.
Tilly slides her hands into mine, and I pull her up from the couch. “Go see her room. I’ve got this handled.”
