I need to prioritize whatEllieneeds.
Looking down, I notice the floors shine like they’ve never seen a speck of dust. I take my boots off before stepping inside.
It’s quiet down here but I can hear faint shuffling above the kitchen—where Ellie’s room is.
I set down the bags from the hardware store and the Thai restaurant on the counter, making a mental note to tackle the grocery store later tonight, before it closes. I plan on emptying a lot of shelves. Don’t need the town folks watching me do it.
I’ve got a whole lot of cabinets to fill and not a clue what to fill them with.
What do seven-year-olds eat? Rose does most of the shopping and, sure, I notice the kids’ cereals, yogurts, cheese crackers, and funny-shaped pastas, but we’re not living in her uncle’s house anymore. This’ll beherhouse.
And I want there to be shelves stocked with everything she likes. With a healthy mix of wholesome and sugary snacks. Protein, vitamins, all that stuff a kid needs.
I make a mental note to ask Rose—if she’s not too mad at me for ratting her out this morning. And maybe Ginger too. Sure as hell not something I’ll be asking Willow. The woman already moves about like she belongs. Like she knows what’s best for Ellie better than I do.
She doesn’t.
She’s justhelping.
After her story earlier, I damn near asked her to stay. Thought came out of nowhere. All I knew was I didn’t want her anywhere near that asswipe who hurt her. Who got rough with her enough to make her feel she needs to protect herself.
Because she thinks no one else will.
She’s not wrong to plan ahead. But the protective rush in me wants to knock the guy’s teeth down his throat for messing with her.
My stomach bubbles.
This is exactly why she needs to go. I don’t need another woman to protect. She’s not mine. Millie was. And now I’ve only got her memory to protect. I should be more concerned with protecting Ellie from jerks like this in the future. Learning to be the kind of father she needs, so she knows a real man when she meets one. Build her a home fit for a princess so she learns to be treated like one.
Instead I’m picturing all the different ways I could deform this guy’s face with a single hit.
With a sigh, I check the time as if there’s merely hours before Willow is finally gone and I can forget my thoughts strayed for even a minute.
Heading upstairs, I find Ellie’s bedroom door is open, so I pause in the doorway. Willow’s on the top step of a short ladder, barely reaching the rod where she adjusts pink velvet drapes.
The setting sun pours in through the window, casting amber light across the room, where it dances off the empty walls—lighting up Willow’s thick curls. Setting them ablaze in copper and gold, wrapping around her like she’s the source of energy.
She freezes, and for a moment I think I’ve been discovered lurking and staring. But she doesn’t turn. Her gaze drifts out, absorbing the colors.
I should peel my eyes off her and I swear I’m trying. I sure as hell shouldn’t lower them to her perfect ass, but I do. And I can’t find it in me to be sorry.
Blinking and cursing myself, I clear my throat. “We call it ‘Sunset.’”
She turns her head and our gazes collide. Those warm brown eyes wide with innocence.
She’s wearing jeans and a plain white tee. But I’d argue there’s nothing plain about it. It’s cropped just above her waist, lighting up that faded tan with a glow. Clinging to her in all the right places, giving those pert tits the spotlight they damn near deserve.
Shit.
This woman is hanging curtains in my daughter’s room and I’m here comparing her to a sunset and ogling her like a perv.
And Willow’s just the type to notice and call me out. But she doesn’t. She steps down with a smile—wide and so fucking pretty.
“Sunset, huh? I like it.”
I know she’s playing along but I want to tell her that’s not half as good as they get out here this time of year.
Especially from my bedroom window.
