“I… What? No!” I look at Phoenix in a panic, my head shaking so rapidly his face is a blur. “I didn’t say that.”
To my relief, he simply laughs, looking all good-natured and shit.
“Don’t worry about it.” Leaning into the car, he kisses his daughter’s forehead before backing us out and closing the door. “Reecie has a friend from Playdates at the Park, and her mom recently got married. The two girls are obsessed with the whole honeymoon situation. Reece told me Brittany told her that kids aren’t allowed because the grown-ups are probably going to kiss a lot.” His eyebrows wiggle as he opens the passenger door for me.
“And that’s probably icky-poo-poo,” I reply, using Reece’s term when she described onions.
His mouth kicks up on one side, and Thing Two says hello. “Totally icky-poo-poo.”
Dear god, he is handsome.
Phoenix pulls out of my apartment complex and takes the road for the highway. “Thanks for agreeing to let me pick you up a little early. Mom’s house is on the way to the airport, so I thought we could drop off Reece and go straight there.”
“It’s no problem. I did forget one thing though, but I can hopefully find a store nearby once we get there.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s fine. Tanner Montgomery arranged a car service for us, so we can go anywhere you’d like.”
“Daddy!” pipes up a little voice from the backseat. “Can we go to that store?”
“Which store, baby?” he asks, glancing in his rearview mirror.
“That one over there,” she replies as she pokes her finger insistently against the side window. “The Love Nest.”
I know the store because I made a trip there just last week, but Phoenix doesn’t realize what it is until he dips his head to look. Then his face is a mask of horror when he realizes it’s a sex toy shop.
Dipping my head, I cover my mouth to stifle the giggles attempting to burst from my throat as Phoenix works to form words. “Uhhhh, I don’t think…”
His words trail off, and Reece speaks again, a hint of begging in her tone. “It says they have toys and movies. Can we go get some? Pleeeease, Daddy?”
“That store isn’t open,” he manages to eke out in a strained voice. “You see those three Xs on the sign? That means it’s closed. In fact,” he says, committing fully to his little white lie, “that means the city shut them down. They probably have rats or something in there. Definitely want to avoid any store with three Xs on the sign.”
Keeping my voice low so only he can hear, I whisper, “I haven’t seen any rats in there, but they do have lots of rabbits.”
His lips twitch, and he subtly scratches the side of his face with his middle finger.
A couple minutes later, we exit, and after a few turns, we’re in a beautiful neighborhood. The streets are lined with oak trees that are older than my dads.
“This is so pretty,” I say, dipping my head to look at the opulent homes as we pass.
“Just a warning, we’ll have to go inside when we get there.” He shrugs and explains with, “Mom rules.”
I grin in understanding. “Same with my dads. I can never just stop by to grab something or pick up something. There always has to be a visit involved.”
When we pull up next to a house with a perfectly manicured lawn and understated landscaping, the only word I can think of isstately. A three-story brick home rises up and blocks the morning sun as I gapelike a landlocked fish. Before I know it, Phoenix is opening my door, and I see the back of Reece’s head as she sprints toward the house yelling, “Nana, I’m here!”
“She’s excited,” I note, stepping out of the vehicle and following Phoenix up the brick walkway.
“Because my mom spoils her rotten. I call her No Boundaries Nana.” A pretty woman with dark hair and eyes appears in the doorway, holding a bouncing Reece on her hip. She waves, and I automatically wave back.
“Jordie, so nice to meet you. I’m Ophelia,” she says when we reach her, granting me a one-armed hug because she’s still holding her granddaughter with the other. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”
“Guess I’ll just stand out here in the cold,” Phoenix says with a bit of a dramatic accent. “Freezing without a mere scrap of bread to warm my poor little bones.”
“Hush, you fool,” his mother says, rising up on her toes to kiss her son’s cheek. “It’s almost a hundred degrees out here today. And it’s nice to see you too.” She pats his face with affection.
We file in, and Ophelia leads us across a beautiful white floor that shines like someone hand polished it a second before we arrived. “Your floor is gorgeous,” I say and immediately feel like an uncouth nimrod. Who the hell compliments someone’s floor? Apparently I do.
“Oh, thank you for noticing,” the pretty woman gushes. “It’s Italian porcelain and my favorite part of the foyer.”
