“What does that mean?” Mycah asks.
“It means we’re going to make it look cool even if it falls apart.” He winks at me. “Sometimes the best things are worth the risk of collapse.”
I know we’re not talking about gingerbread anymore.
The morning flies by in a flurry of icing, candy, and laughter. Despite the sexual tension crackling between us, or maybe because of it, I find myself relaxing.
Enrick is good with all the kids, not just Bella. He’s patient with Isa’s questions, roughhouses with Asher, and gives Mycah great advice when the fifteen-year-old talks about the two girls crushing on him. He even handles Penny’s disgust about the whole situation, listening to her rant about why both girls are “totally wrong for Mycah” without dismissing her concerns.
Watching him with them makes me imagine what it would be like if this were our every day, not just a snowy accident.
“Time!” Gina calls. “Let’s see these masterpieces.”
The boys’ house is a disaster—walls caving in, roof sliding off, candy scattered everywhere. But they’ve covered every surfacewith decorations, and the boys are proud of their “earthquake survivor house.”
Ours, on the other hand, is pristine. Perfect angles, careful decorating, even a little candy garden that Isa created.
“We win!” Bella shouts, and I high-five my team.
“Hold up,” Enrick says. “I demand a recount. Our house has character.”
“Your house has structural damage,” I point out.
“Sometimes the most interesting things aren’t perfect.” He’s looking directly at me. “Sometimes perfect is boring.”
“Sometimes mess is just mess.” My voice comes out breathier.
“Okay, okay,” Gina intervenes. “How about everyone wins? Hot chocolate all around!”
The kids cheer and scatter, leaving Enrick and me at the table surrounded by gingerbread carnage.
“You’ve got icing on your face,” he says softly.
“Where?” I reach up, but he shakes his head.
“Here.” He leans across the table, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. But instead of pulling away, he lingers, tracing my bottom lip.
Every nerve ending in my body zeros in on that point of contact. His eyes darken, and I know he’s remembering how I taste.
“Enrick.” His name comes out as a plea, though I’m not sure if I’m begging him to stop or continue.
“I can’t help it,” he says roughly. “You’re here, with my family, playing with our daughter, and all I can think about is—”
“Hot chocolate delivery!” Maverick’s voice breaks the spell, and Enrick jerks back.
I grab my mug with hands that aren’t quite steady, wrapping them around the warm ceramic. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Maverick looks between us with knowing eyes. “Gina’s organizing a movie marathon in the media room. Kids’movies until they pass out, then something with an actual plot for the adults when the teenagers abandon us to their devices.”
“Sounds good,” Enrick says, but his voice is rough.
The rest of the day is torture. Mycah sets up a video game tournament in the game room, and Bella insists her parents be on her team. Which means three hours of sitting between Enrick and Bella on the couch, trying to focus on Mario Kart instead of how his arm keeps brushing mine. We have lunch all together, and I end up sitting next to him again, his thigh pressed against mine under the table.
During the movie marathon, Bella insists on sitting between us, but she falls asleep halfway through Frozen, and Enrick settles her on his lap. The sight of them together—my baby girl safe in her father’s arms—does something to my heart.
I watch them in the flickering light from the screen. Bella’s face pressed against Enrick’s chest, his large hand cradling her head with tenderness. His eyes are closed, his expression softer than I’ve ever seen it, and it makes my throat tight.
What if things had gone differently six years ago? What if he hadn’t accused me of trying to trap him? What if we’d joined forces and figured parenting out together?
