“You mean you’re still analyzing her every move before you let Molly out of your sight with her?” He’s looking straight at me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I get it, Son. This is Molly we’re talking about. But kids need space to grow, and we have to let them.”
“I hate that you’re right.”
He chuckles. “Call it experience. You don’t get to my age and not learn a lesson or two. Including when to just be damn well grateful for what’s right in front of you.”
Halliday beams back when she sees him looking at her again.
He’s right. I need to learn how to relax when it comes to Molly’s care. The thought of my overprotectiveness hindering her in any way makes me want to tear the world in two.
I just don’t know how to start.
27
TATE
“They’re paper?”I exclaim, taking the giant bouquet from Sullivan.
He stands beside his car, hands pushed casually into his pant pockets as he regards me carefully, gauging my reaction to the roses.
“And they’re made from music sheets.” I touch a petal, gently peeling it back so I can read it. “This is the song you were playing the night we?—”
“The night we?” He arches a brow, and I shake my head, heat pinching at my cheeks.
“The other night,” I finish, checking another flower. “Are these… can you play all of them?”
“By memory.”
“Wow.”
I sneak a look at him and he’s watching me intently.
“Do you like them?”
“Are you kidding? I love them! No one’s ever given me something like this before.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say his shoulders loosen in relief. But this is Sullivan Beaufort. Nothing flusters him.
“They’re one way of showing you I meant it when I said I wish to make it up to you.”
He gestures inside the backseat of the car, holding the door open for me. Cliff is sitting in the driver’s seat, and I smile at the fact Sullivan must have insisted on greeting me after work and opening the door for me himself.
I hand the paper roses to Sullivan so that I can climb inside.
“Hi Cliff,” I greet. “Oh, and hello, little rabbit.”
Molly grins from her car seat before I hold my arms out and take the flowers that Sullivan passes back to me.
He’s climbing in through the opposite door and into the backseat as I bop the ears on Molly’s onesie.
“I like this one. I think it’s my favorite,” I tell her.
Her little face turns serious, and she nods. “It a nice one.”
The way she takes her time over the word ‘nice’, making sure to pronounce it properly makes my heart melt. I’ve missed her this past couple of days.
Sullivan’s blue eyes capture mine over the top of the cream furry ears, and they crease at the corners as he listens to Molly.
I’ve missedhimtoo.
