The boa constrictor in my chest squeezes even tighter at her sweet manners. “Apple would be great.”
“That’s my favorite too,” she yells, running off toward what I assume is the kitchen, her pajama-clad feet making soft thumps as she goes.
I step into the grand foyer. The parquet floor is a warm, blonde wood, and the walls are painted in a soft, textured peach color that’s soothing to the eye.
“Thank you so much for this, Jordie,” Phoenix says in a low voice. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with us tonight.”
“Pshhh,” I scoff. “It sounds like fun. Juliette used to organize stuff like this for me when I was little, but we haven’t had a spa night in years.”
“And what about going to a real spa?” he asks, guiding me into a high-ceilinged living room with beautiful furnishings that are also somehow cozy. “When’s the last time you did that?”
“I’ve never been to a real spa,” I admit. “I grew up in a small town where the closest thing to a spa was the local hair salon, Chic Cuts. But I’ve never actually been there. My sister always trims my hair for me.”
Reece returns holding a small box of organic apple juice. “Okay, doyou want me to put your straw in for you, Jordie? I just washed my hands.”
Hiding my laugh with a fake cough, I say, “That would be nice. Thank you, Reece. You’re an excellent hostess.”
“Thank you. Daddy and Nana taught me.”
“Nana is my mother,” Phoenix explains as I rub my hands up and down my arms. It’s freaking freezing in here. “Sorry, we keep it cold on spa night because Reece insists we have to wear fuzzy PJs.”
“Jordie needs jammies too, Daddy,” Reece informs him in an almost scolding tone. “You can help her find some, and I’ll get the blankets ready.”
The little girl takes my juice box and sets it beside two others on a side table before lifting the lid of the rectangular wooden coffee table to reveal stacks of blankets. Phoenix rolls his eyes good-naturedly at being bossed around by this pint-sized princess.
“Come on up here,” he directs. “You can wear something of mine. I’ve gathered quite a diverse selection of fuzzy pajamas at this point.” His words are wry and self-deprecating as I follow him up a curved staircase with a smooth wooden banister.
When we reach the top of the stairs, we turn right. The walls up here are dove-gray and covered with pictures of Reece from birth to her current age, which appears to be about four or five. At the end of the hallway, Phoenix pushes open a set of wooden double doors that lead into a bedroom that could double as a parking lot.
“Dang, what size is that bed?” I blurt before clamping my lips shut in embarrassment. But Phoenix is unfazed by my outburst.
“It’s a Texas King. At ninety-eight inches long, it’s great for tall people.”
The bed is innately masculine, with black and bourbon-brown bedding, and I have to suppress a giggle when I imagine the pink-PJ-wearing man beside me propped up against the black padded headboard.
I follow him through an open barn door that leads to his bathroom. It’s ginormous as well and smells clean, like soap and fresh laundry. To the right is an arched doorway that reveals his carpeted closet. It looks more like a men’s clothing store with suits on one side and casualclothing on the other. A padded bench in the center sits beside a glass-topped structure that resembles a jewelry case. Peeking inside, I see ties of every color, many of them polka-dotted, as well as a variety of watches and cufflinks.
Phoenix gestures to a section of clothing on the right where at least two dozen sets of pajamas hang. “And here,” he says in a mock-formal tone, “we have a selection of the finest spa wear for persons of the most… how should we say it? Ah, yes, of the most discerning taste.”
I giggle as he steps back and lets me look through. Matching his energy, I hold up a penguin outfit and pretend to scrutinize it. “Very distinguished, but I believe I require something with a bit more panache this evening.”
He points to a bright-yellow monstrosity. “Can I interest you in a smiley-face motif?”
I tut. “Yellow is so gauche.”
“Mmmm, then I think this might interest you.” He removes a bright-red set and holds it in front of him, gesturing with one dramatic hand at the swirly horn on top of the hood. “I like to call this one Silly Sprinklepants. As you can see, it embodies the magical spirit of the unicorn, which I think you can appreciate.”
Pretending to clutch my pearls, I gasp, “Silly Sprinklepants is simply divine. I must have it.”
His grin gleams white from his muck-covered face. “And you haven’t even seen the best part.” He turns the red fuzzy outfit around to reveal a brightly colored rainbow tail. “The pièce de résistance.”
My body is shaking with laughter as I take the unicorn outfit from him. “Sold!”
His smile fades into something more serious. “Thanks again for staying, Jordie. Reece has been seeing the hype commercials the league is putting out, and she’s decided you’re her favorite player, so this really means a lot to her.” He pauses. “And to me.”
“You seem like a really good dad, Phoenix.”
“I try.” He points to his face, still handsome even beneath the thick layer of mud. “I know this all may seem ridiculous, but Reece doesn’t have a mom in her life, so I try to be…everythingfor her.”
