Lottie launches into a detailed account of first-grade politics, complete with dramatic reenactments of playground disputes and lunchroom trades. I listen, nodding at all the right moments, but my mind keeps drifting back downstairs.
To Caspian.
To the way he looked at me when I walked in.
To the fact that he’s here, in my parents’ house, probably charming my mother with that infectious smile of his.
“Uncle Nate?” Lottie’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Are you listening?”
“Sorry, kiddo. Got distracted for a second there.”
She gives me a look that’s pure Jasper—all-knowing eyes and raised eyebrows. “Is it because of the pretty man downstairs?”
I nearly choke. “What?”
“Grandma says he’s pretty,” she says matter-of-factly, adjusting Starlight’s position once again. “And that you need someone nice in your life. Is he nice?”
Out of the mouths of babes. I run a hand through my hair, wondering how to answer that. “Yeah,” I finally say. “He’s nice.”
Lottie nods, satisfied. “Good. Because you look at him the way Daddy looks at pictures of Mommy sometimes. All soft and sad and happy at the same time.”
My heart clenches at that. Leave it to a seven-year-old to cut right to the heart of things. “You’re pretty observant, aren’t you?”
She shrugs, climbing up next to me on the bed. “That’s what Ms. Thompson says. She’s my teacher.”
“You know what?” I say, gently nudging her shoulder. “I think we should head back downstairs. Don’t want to leave your friends waiting too long.”
Lottie’s eyes widen. “Oh! I forgot Arya and Elsa are here!” She hops off the bed, already heading for the door. “And they haven’t seen Starlight yet!”
I follow her, trying not to think about how returning downstairs means facing Caspian again, looking unfairly attractive in that sweater. But as Lottie races ahead of me, chattering about showing off her new unicorn, I realize I’m more eager than anxious to rejoin the party.
When I get downstairs, I pause at the living room doorway. Caspian is sitting on the couch, deep in conversation with a man I don’t recognize. They’re laughing about something, and their easy familiarity makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. The stranger has a polished look, wearing a fitted button-down shirt and designer jeans that make him look effortlessly put together. He’s undeniably attractive, and seeing him sitting so close to Caspian, both of them looking like they belong in a magazine spread, makes something uncomfortable twist in my gut.
Lottie rushes past me, unicorn held high. I guess that’s not staying on the shelf. “Arya! Elsa! Look what Uncle Nate made me!”
Two girls around Lottie’s age crowd around her, admiring the wooden unicorn. The stranger looks up at the commotion, and I notice his eyes are kind when he smiles at the girls.
“Careful with that, Arya,” he calls out. “Let Lottie show you properly.”
Caspian spots me hovering in the doorway and waves me over. “Nate! Come meet Felix. He’s the one I mentioned just moved to town too.”
I move closer as Felix stands and extends his hand.
“So you’re the famous woodworker,” he says, shaking my hand. “Those girls haven’t stopped talking about the dinosaur in Lottie’s room since we got here. And now the unicorn? You’ve got some serious talent.”
“Thanks,” I reply, watching Caspian’s eyes light up with interest.
“Why am I not surprised that you made that T-Rex too?” Caspian says. “Lottie showed it to me earlier. The detail is incredible.”
The genuine admiration in his voice makes my cheeks warm. “It’s just a hobby.” I shrug, but I can’t help feeling pleased.
“A hobby that makes little girls very happy,” Felix adds, glancing at where the three girls are now setting up what appears to be a unicorn-dinosaur tea party. “Arya, sweetie, make sure you share the dinosaur with Lottie and Elsa.”
“I will, Dad,” Arya says, carefully arranging plastic teacups around Starlight. “We’re going to name all the dinosaurs, and then they’re going to dance with the unicorn!”
Felix stretches, rising from his seat. “I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get either of you anything?”
“I’d love some water,” Caspian replies, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re warm and inviting. “Nate?”
