I gave her a determined nod. “You bet I will! Maybe we can do something fun next time—go see a movie?”
“I’ve never been to a real movie theater before.” She looked away, and the vacant and solemn look in her eyes made me want to take her to every movie, buy every doll, and beat up every asshole kid for ever laughing at her.
I sucked in a breath.One thing at a time.
“Well, next time we come back, we’ll take you. If it’s okay with your mom, of course. There’s a new animated movie out that I wanted to see. It’s no Wonder Woman, but it looks fun. How does that sound?”
“I think it sounds awesome.” Victoria and I jumped at the sound of Josh’s voice as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Even if I have to go see the new princess movie.”
Victoria giggled as I pretended to glare at her father. “Don’t listen to him. I dragged him to a ton of girly cartoon movies and he secretly loved them all,” I said in a loud whisper before pushing off the bed.
“Wait.” Victoria grabbed my wrist before I turned and handed me one of the smaller notebooks. “That’s all poems.” She cupped her mouth as she spoke softly in my ear. “Don’t let anyone else see them.”
I brought the book to my chest and shook my head. “No way. Thank you, Victoria. I can’t wait to read them later.”
“You heard your mom. Homework.” He knelt in front of her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Maybe we can go on Friday.”
She beamed and flung her arms around his neck. “I’ll work on your mom,” he whispered in her ear. For someone so afraid of not knowing how to be a father, Josh was a natural.
“Bye, Josh. Bye, Brianna.” She gave us a little wave before we left her room.
Sara waited for us by the door. I couldn’t tell if she was bored or trying really hard to act that way. I admired her for bringing up a child all on her own and understood the resistance to the new upheaval in the way she did things, but I hoped she’d see Victoria’s father in her life as a good thing . . . someday.
“I’d like to take Victoria to the movies on Friday. We’ll go to an early show, and I’ll have her back early. It’s been a few weeks and she knows me well enough. Maybe I could spend more time with her than just a half hour here, forty-five minutes there.” Josh quirked an eyebrow. “Would that be all right with you?”
A sour expression ghosted her face. “Well, you already brought it up. Orshedid.” Her face twisted in a scowl. “I guess I can’t say no. Early show and early home.”
Josh raised his hands in submission. “Movie, quick dinner, and she’ll be home. Thank you, Sara.”
“Thank you, Sara.” I forced a natural smile. She’d never like me, of that I was certain, but to make things easier I could be overly nice.
“Fine.” She opened the door, which I took as our cue to leave. Josh and I nodded a goodbye and made our way to the lobby.
Once we got outside, he enveloped me into his arms and took my mouth in a passionate kiss.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he murmured against my lips.
I smoothed the collar of Josh’s jacket before grasping it and pulling him in for another kiss.
“Maybe once or twice.”
“Wasn’t I right?” A beaming smile lit up his face as he wrapped his arms around me. “She’s a great kid and she loved you on sight. Nothing to worry about, Cupcake.”
I wasn’t so sure. Sara didn’t want us there and seemed to loath the closeness Josh and Victoria already shared. Me, I only made everything that much worse by my presence. Still, a smile tugged at my lips when I thought of the little girl I’d met tonight. I spent most of today pretty much a basket case, terrified of how I’d feel when I came face-to-face with Josh’s child with someone else. My reaction confusedanddelighted me.
“I think . . . I think I kind of love her.”
Josh
“NOWTHISIShow arcades always should have been.” I took a swig from my beer bottle as I watched Victoria play pinball. There was every game you could possibly think of: Skee-Ball, Pac-man, table hockey—and a restaurant that served alcohol in the back.
Brianna rolled her eyes from where she stood next to Victoria. “The last time we were in an arcade, we were in high school. Like it would have mattered.”
I laughed, remembering the last time I stepped into an arcade with Brianna with surprising clarity. We were seventeen, and Reid and I were in a Mortal Kombat battle, but every time I tried to take the lead, the sight of Brianna’s painted-on tight denim shorts fucked up any concentration I’d had. Reid left victorious, and I left with the newly familiar ache of blue balls.
“Hey, sweets, how about something to eat? Your mom will kill me if I take you home with blisters on your thumbs.” I peeled her hands away from the side buttons.
“That was my highest score ever, Josh.” She pouted as the silver balls rolled into the gutter and moped toward the tables in the back. I was still “Josh,” not “Dad”—yet. She didn’t ask to call me that, and I wouldn’t pressure her. It was a title I was happy to work to earn.
