“Yeah. Lucky fucker. He never has any issues. Must be the baby face. You two will be having your own parties like this before me.”
Denver’s eyes slide guiltily to mine at Killian’s comment, but I keep my mouth firmly clamped shut. Denver’s been one of the family for years. He’s my father’s most trusted hire and has become a friend.
But I still don’t need the image of him and Sinclair in my head.
The guy’s built like a wrestler, and three times the width of my sister. But she’s never smiled as much as she has since he came back to work again and declared that he loved her, and was going to be with her, whether we liked it or not.
Bold move. Lucky for him, it worked.
Molly races past me, back over to the door as a large bunny-shaped balloon is brought through it. But it’s not the balloon that’s got her running.
“Tate!” she squeals, flinging her arms up in the air.
She’s whisked up into the air, her face half-covered by auburn hair as she’s hugged fiercely.
My lungs cease to work, leaving me bereft of the oxygen I sobadly need.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart pumping erratically.
“Jesus,” I choke under my breath as I watch two of the most important women in my life greet one another after months apart.
“Daddy! Look!” Molly calls, the excitement in her voice making my mouth dry.
I’ve kept them apart. Me. I did this. I’m responsible for the watery blue eyes and tremble in Tate’s voice that she tries to hide as she wishes my daughter a happy birthday and embraces her like she’s the most precious thing in her world.
Like she loves her.
Because she does.
She told me as much. And then I went and screwed everything up and we all suffered.
“You okay?” Denver asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
I continue staring at the two of them, soaking in their happiness that’s radiating around them as bright as the damn sun.
Tate looks up over Molly’s shoulder, and the second our eyes connect it’s like all the air in the world has rushed back into my lungs at once.
I can breathe again.
“Tate?” I stride over with purpose, needing to close the gap between us, but the pinch at the corners of her eyes makes me halt.
She lowers Molly to the ground and hands her a ribbon-handled gift bag.
“I brought you a little something,” she says, lowering her eyes to Molly like she can’t bring herself to look at me.
“Thank you,” Molly says, turning all serious as she reaches inside the bag and pulls out a stuffed rabbit.
“She’s the same color as Bumper,” Tate tells Mollyas my daughter strokes the creamy fur. “And she has a surprise in her tummy.”
Molly turns the bunny over and pulls open a pouch on its stomach. Three small bunnies in varying colors spill out.
“Baby bunnies!” Molly grins, scooping them up and rushing off, calling out for Halliday and my father who are on the far side of the room chatting with Uncle Mal and Aunt Trudy.
Tate hovers like she’s unsure what to do. I want to pull her into my arms and greet her properly. Sink my nose into her hair and fill it with the scent of her, instead of having to make do with just the memory of it. Kiss her soft lips. The lips that held me together the last time I saw her.
I want to tell her how Ifeelabout her.
