“What does?”
Well, I was in now, may as well go all the way. “The make-up, the dresses, the social media. I don’t think it’s good for the girls, but…”
Emily’s expression was calm, open. “But?”
I rubbed my eyes, exhaustion pulling at me.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m being too rigid about it. Or if I’m projecting my issues with Natascha onto normal stuff. Maybe a little makeup doesn’t matter.”
“Is that what you really think?”
“I think...” I stopped, trying to find the words. “I think they’re seven and five. I think they should be allowed to just be kids without worrying about angles and lighting and whether their smile looks genuine enough for social media and that they shouldn’t have to perform for an audience they don’t even understand.” My fingers curled on the table. “But then I wonder if I’m being too controlling. Fuck, it makes me crazy.”
Emily was quiet for a moment, studying me. Then she leaned forward, her voice low but certain. “You’re not crazy. And you’re not being controlling. You’re being a good dad.”
Before I could think of a reply, my phone buzzed in my pocket, loud and insistent in the quiet kitchen.
We both jumped.
I pulled it out. Natascha. Of course. My jaw tightened.
I answered, my eyes still on Emily. “Yeah?”
“Cam, hi!” Her voice was bright, cheerful. “I’m so sorry to bother you this late, but I just realized I forgot to send you the girls’ schedule for next week. I have that brand trip to Miami and?—”
This was one conversation I did not have the fucking energy for. “Can this wait until morning?”
“Oh.” A pause. “I mean, I guess? I just wanted to make sure you had it in case you needed to arrange coverage.”
“I’ll handle it. Goodnight, Natascha.”
I hung up before she could respond, tossing my phone onto the table with more force than necessary. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I should go so you can get some rest.”
“Okay.”
I followed her to the front door, wishing the night didn’t have to end.
She pulled the door open, then turned back to me. I opened my mouth to say something, though I had no idea what. Mybrain had turned to mush somewhere between the sight of her in that ridiculous bunny onesie and now.
“Thank you,” I managed. “For today. For all of it.”
“You’re welcome.”
The words were simple, but the way she looked at me when she said them wasn’t. Her brown eyes held mine, warm and soft in the dim light from the porch. I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away.
The air between us thickened. My skin prickled. Her lips parted slightly, like she might say something else. My gaze dropped to her mouth before I could stop myself.
She blinked first, breaking whatever spell had wrapped around us. A small smile curved her lips, genuine and a little shy.
“Goodnight, Cam.”
The way she said my name, all breathy and quiet, did things to me that had no business happening on my front porch at ten thirty at night.
“Goodnight, Emily.”
God, I wanted, so much, to ask her to stay. Instead, my gaze followed her down the steps, those ridiculous bunny ears bouncing with each movement.
