I swallow, the words tangling on my tongue. “Was that your…” I trail off, gesturing vaguely toward where his phone disappeared into his pocket. “Your daughter?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Not mine.”
“Oh.” I try to sound unaffected, and fail. “Sorry, I just?—”
“It’s fine.” His grin widens a little, like he’s letting me off the hook. “That was Poppy. Ford’s daughter. My niece.”
“Your niece?”
“Mm-hmm.” He leans his hip against the game console, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cutest kid on the planet. Smart and bossy as hell. We’d all walk off a cliff for her if she asked us nicely. Especially me.”
I blink, the realization sinking in. “So, she’s…Ford and Landyn’s?”
“Yep. They hit the jackpot with her,” he says, pride lacing every word. “And I get to be the fun uncle—the one who lets her sneak dessert before dinner and teaches her how to beat her dad at Mario Kart.”
The look in his eyes is pure love. His love for his niece is palpable, it’s in the way he gave her his full attention, the warmth that seeps into his tone when he talks about her. The sincerity of it is the sweetest thing.
For the past couple of weeks, I’d been so sure that that little girl was his. I’d created an entire back story in my mind. Jesse as a single dad, juggling parenthood with his work at Cove.
I had tried to brush aside the pull I felt to him, believing his life was complicated, his relationships were complex, his attention was taken. Now I have to untangle that image from the truth.
“She’s lucky to have you,” I say quietly.
“Nah.” He glances at me, eyes glinting with something that feels almost tender. “I’m the lucky one.”
“You’re really sweet with her,” I say. “It’s obvious she’s crazy about you.”
“I’m good with most people under the age of ten. Problem is, after that, they get smarter than me.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Hardly.”
“You say that,” he says, grabbing the ball again. “But you haven’t seen me try to do long division.”
And I’m smiling again—damn him.
SEVENTEEN
Jesse
I can’t remember any other woman who has made me feel like that…heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins, everything else fading to black.
That’s exactly how it felt when Madeline stepped out of the bathroom earlier this evening.
One second, I was straightening my tie. The next, I was trying to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. She paused in the doorway, one hand nervously toying with the clasp of her bag.
My eyes swept over her, taking in the dress—glacier blue silk to the floor, clinging to her body in ways that should be illegal. The long line of her neck exposed by her hair swept up in loose waves.
My throat went dry. She looked like she’d been carved from every fantasy I’d ever had and dressed in a silvery-blue just to ruin me.
“Wow,” I managed, which felt like the understatement of the century.
Her lips curved in that nervous almost-smile, the one she gives when she’s trying to act unaffected.
I’ve been around beautiful women before. Hell, I’ve dated plenty of them. But this—seeing her—felt different. Like my chest was too small for the heart trying to beat its way out. And when she finally met my eyes and said, “Ready to go?”, all I could think was…not even close.
Now we’re in the back seat of a ride-share, city lights flashing across her skin in green and gold streaks, and I’m still fighting to take a full breath. If I believed in karma, I’d say this is mine.
Madeline is quiet beside me, absentmindedly pinching her bottom lip between her fingers. It just about kills me. She’s nervous. The tension is palpable, radiating off of her, threatening to undo that trademark control that makes her who she is.
