Patrick grinned. There wasn’t much of gangly, redheaded Willow in his daughter. She was a carbon copy of her fair-haired, green-eyed mother. As though to prove it, Eden walked into the kitchen wearing an adult version of Jupiter’s silver dress and green gumboots. She put her hands on her hips. “Are you being a dick, Sloan Williams?”
“Never.” Willow tossed Jupiter into the air. “How was the ice show?”
“Cold.” Eden turned to Patrick. “Hey, Psycho. How are you doing?”
“Good, thank—”
“Screw Psycho,” Willow said. “Come talk to me.”
Rolling her eyes, Eden walked over and kissed Willow. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her in the kiss until Jupiter slapped him in the face. “Let go of Mumma! Let go!”
All three burst out laughing, and Patrick forced himself to smile along. His chest felt like it was going to splinter in half. He wanted what Willow and Eden had so badly, but they were happy and wholesome. He was hungover and single and felt like a sex criminal. He wondered again where Cheryl was and if she was thinking of him.
Eden broke out of the family hug. “Sorry, Psycho. Do you want a beer or something?”
The thought made his stomach churn. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay, well I have to give Jupiter a bath and—”
“I’ll do it,” Willow said. “You stay and talk to Patty?”
Eden gave him a quizzical look.
Willow raised his red eyebrows. “He and Cheryl have been F-U-C-K—”
“Oh my Lord,” Eden whirled to look at him. “Seriously?”
Patrick scowled. “Does everyone on earth think Cheryl’s too hot for me?”
“No!” Eden said. “Well, kind of.”
He pressed his palms to his eye sockets. “Great.”
“Psycho’s a little sensitive right now, baby,” Willow said. “Go easy on him while I deal with this one. To the bath, little Jup!”
“Nooooo!” Jupiter screamed as Willow carried her away.
Patrick let go of his face to see Eden pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m having a drink,” she said. “Sure you don’t want a glass?”
“Nah, I think I’m still drunk from the motel.”
“Yeah, Willow said you went hard.” Eden grabbed a glass from a high shelf and filled it. “Bernie has that effect on men.”
For a second he didn’t know who she was talking about, then he remembered Eden and Cheryl called each other by their dads’ names. “What? She leaves them drunk and broken in motel rooms?”
“Pretty much. How you holding up?”
He pointed at his face, which he could only assume was still showing signs of alcohol abuse.
Eden grinned. “Yeah, Cheryl’s acting nuts, too.”
“She told you what happened?”
“Nah, she’s been sending me Futurama memes all day. That always means she’s losing it.”
“Ah.”
