I pull up a small stool beside my rocking chair and help Emmy onto it. She does an adorable little shoulder shimmy.
“I have a very big job for you,” I tell her, holding out a white, fluffy puppet. “Think you can make this bunny hop?”
She places it on her small hand, and it stretches all the way to her elbow. It’s almost comically big for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She bounces her arm up and down and experimentally flaps the mouth open and shut. “Like this?”
“That’s perfect! When I start to sing the bunny’s song, you hop along with it, ok?”
She nods and swings her legs while we wait for the rest of the crowd to filter in. I secretly hope Jaxon shows up, but he remains painfully absent.
Emmy does an amazing job as the bunny, and when story time is over, she wraps her little arms around me and gives me a big hug. My chest tightens as I hug her back and soak up the easy affection.
Olivia’s still perched in the chair as Gracie tries to wriggle out of her hold.
“Sissy,” Emmy says. “Come here!” Emmy holds out her arms a few feet away from the chair, and Olivia places Gracie on her feet between her legs, pausing to steady her balance.
Gracie takes one step, still clinging to Olivia’s finger. Then she takes another, loosening her grip. I pull out my phone just in time to start recording. A cheesy grin spreads across her sweet face, and she stomps toward Emmy with quick, unsure strides. After what amounts to five or six full steps, Emmy catches her in her arms and squeezes her.
“You did it!” Emmy says.
Olivia’s eyes glisten as she holds her hands up to her face. She whispers, “Oh my god. Wilder’s gonna lose it. I can’t believe he missed her first steps.”
I turn my phone so she can see the video. “I caught most of it. But I can totally keep a secret, and we can pretend this never happened.”
“There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell Emmy’s gonna keep quiet about this.” She speaks in a hushed voice, so Emmy doesn’t hear. She’s too preoccupied making Gracie laugh with the bunny puppet anyway.
She tugs on my hand and drags me away from the girls, keeping them out of earshot but within view.
She waggles her eyebrows. “So… how did it go the other night? Did it work?”
I probably should’ve seen this coming.
“Oh, it worked alright. Right up until I opened my big mouth and ruined it.”
“I doubt your mouth was the problem,” Olivia quips. “But go on.”
I glance up and shake my head, sighing. “That part was fine—amazing, even—but when we finished, I saw a picture on his bookshelf, and I asked him about it. He shut down immediately.”
“Oh, Jax,” Olivia says breathily, squeezing my hand. It’s a comforting gesture I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. “It’s not you. I don’t know the full story, but he’s got a lot of unresolved trauma.”
I tilt my head from side to side. “I get that, I just… I thought we were in a good place. I’ve already told him about my scars, and he knows at least some of what I’ve been through. I guess I was just hoping for some sort of reciprocity.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around. You two are good for each other.”
I don’t have it in me to argue the point. It’s just as well since Olivia doesn’t wait for me to respond.
“If he’s anything like his brother, it might take him a while to catch up, but he’ll get there. Those Hayes men tend to bottle shit up. Or maybe it’s just men in general.” She peers around me at the girls still playing on the rug. “They’re worth it, though.”
Yeah. I think he might be.
Jaxon
I stretch back in my office chair and close my eyes. Callie’s been keeping her distance, and I can’t say I blame her. I really stepped in it this time. Atticus mewls under my feet. He’s been extra clingy lately, and I’m grateful for the company, but he’s a constant reminder of my fuck up. Every time he paws at my leg, I swear he’s judging me.
My phone chimes with a text, and I bolt upright. It’s embarrassing how quickly I snatch it up, and even more embarrassing how disappointed I am when it’s not Callie, but the family group chat.
Olivia: You’re a dumbass, Jaxon Hayes.
Griffin: You’re just figuring that out now?
