Ellie lingers at the door like she normally does when she’s not done talking. “She’s pretty.”
“Yes,” I say in an attempt to shut down this conversation as quickly as possible, without realizing what I just said. “Yeah,” I repeat, clearing my throat. “She is pretty?—”
She’s nine,I remind myself.Not nineteen.
“Be respectful, okay?” I warn her. “Piper won’t want her hair braided twice a day like your dolls. She’s an adult, not a friend.”
Ellie trots off, leaving the door wide open.
As I close it, I catch sight ofher. Piper. Taken aback as our eyes accidently meet. And linger.
Her brunette hair is undone, and the natural curls cascade down her shoulders the same way they always used to. The V-neck tee she’s wearing slouches over one shoulder, and my eyes dart over to the naked patch of skin.
She sheepishly readjusts the shirt and continues downstairs.
Lord, help me.
We haven’t really spoken since I invited her to stay. She and Sonny were both exhausted, and so was I from having to keep it in my pants for so long.
I huff. Guess I’ll have to keep it in a while longer and press pause on the sexting until tonight.
I head downstairs and enter the kitchen.
Piper plucks a glass from the cupboard and fills it up with water. Cowering into the corner like I’ve scared her away, she raises the glass and asks, “I hope this is okay?”
“Sure,” I say. “Make yourself at home.”
Tension lingers between those words as we both dissect the deeper meaning.
“So…” She clears her throat, setting down the glass of water she has barely sipped from. “You have a daughter. Around Sonny’s age.”
Is that her indirect way of enquiring about Ellie’s age?
“Yes,” I reply. “It sounds like the two have already been acquainted.”
“Hm.” Her eyes trail up to the Victorian ceiling that I still haven’t gotten around to painting. “They’re not the only ones who have been previously acquainted.”
“Hart.”
She folds her arms over her chest and asks, “You said you’re single, so where’s her mother?”
I could ask her the same about Sonny’s father.
“She passed away in a car accident,” is all I choose to say. Explaining the rest would be too complicated.
“Oh.” She sighs. “I’m sorry.”
I dismiss her apology. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago and—” I cut myself off before I slip into a tangent about mine and Holly’s relationship. Or lack thereof. “It was a while ago.”
“How long ago?”
“Too long ago for Ellie to remember her mother, fortunately.”
“How old is Ellie?”
I tense up and get this over with. “Nine and a half.”
“Nine…” Piper trails off, giving herself a minute to catch up. “Hold your horses. You’re telling me you had aninfant daughterwhen we met. When you came to town for six months and?—?”
