“Well, anyway.” I lean against the counter. “Obviously, I miss tucking Bea in every night, but knowing she’s with you and Jeff makes it easier.”
From about halfway into Holly’s pregnancy until she and Jeff started dating seriously, we lived together. Separate rooms, of course. But it was important to co-parent together, especially in those early days. We wanted to show Bea a healthy, if platonic, parent relationship.
I like my home, though. I like how quiet it is, how I can raise Bea surrounded by nature.
I like that I can have a guesthouse with an unfriendly bartender.
“Are you taking a date?” Holly asks, jarring me from my daydream.
I give her a look. “It’s a work event. Why would I take a date?”
I’ve never taken a date to one of these things.
She studies a spot on the counter. “The players bring their partners, don’t they? I thought you might take Jordan.”
I give her a flat look and she doesn’t meet my eyes, but she’s smiling.
“Holly.”
“I heard she’s very pretty.”
Last week, I gave Holly the heads-up that someone was living in the guesthouse for a while, someone I trusted to be safe around Bea. A common courtesy from one parent to the other.
I never said what she looked like, though.
“Bea isveryinterested in her,” she adds.
I sigh, smiling at her. “Not you, too.”
She ignores me. “Is she pretty?”
Yes. God, yes. And stubborn, and infuriating. Kind of a brat, too. And good at hockey strategy. And surprisingly sensitive, from what I saw in the supply closet.
She was crying, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
“She’s Ross Sheridan’s daughter.”
“But is she pretty?”
“She’s my employee. She’s ten years younger than me.”
She waits with a knowing smile.
“She’s a flighty, smart-mouthed, unforgiving bartender who barely speaks to her father.”
A bad feeling washes through my chest. Sheisall those things, and yet they feel wrong and cruel. If she overheard me, I’d apologize immediately.
Holly drums her nails on the countertop, watching me with that annoying smile. Is this how Jordan feels when I smile at her patiently?
“Yes,” I huff. “She’s pretty, okay? So what. She’s pretty.”
She’s really fucking pretty.
Holly beams widely. “Great. That’s all I wanted to know.”
“You’re meddling.”
“We want you to be happy.”
