“Thank you.” I gently boop her nose with my finger. “You’re awesome too.”
Her dad is also kind of awesome, if a little grumpy. But I keep that information to myself. He doesn’t need to know. I’m sure his ego is big enough.
We sit coloring for a while. It’s probably only ten more minutes, but it feels like forever. Not a bad forever—a peaceful one.
Eventually, Belle crawls from Ronan’s lap to mine. I’m not surprised. It’s a scientific fact that little girls can’t resist tulle. It’s as if a troop of ballerinas and a dozen princesses threw up in my lap. I am tulle-erific.
Ronan takes advantage of his freedom to get up and try the call button again. He bangs on the door and yells, but it’s quiet outside. We’re in our own little world.
Belle stretches and yawns. If I know anything about seven-year-olds—and I know a lot about seven-year-olds—she’s about to fall asleep. Her eyelids waver, then close. A few minutes later, she gives a slight snore.
My smile is bittersweet as I run my hand over her silky blond hair, my heart melting at the feeling of the girl asleep in my arms. I want a family and a child of my own. I thought that time was nearing. But now, after being dumped by my fiancé of twelve years, that dream has never felt further away. I know all the bachelors in my small town, so trust me when I say the odds are not great.
Belle’s breathing deepens.
“She’s asleep,” I whisper to Ronan.
“It’s late for her.”
A more practical concern pops into my head. “When did Belle go potty last?” I whisper in horror.
He raises an eyebrow.
“The bathroom. The toilet. Tinkle,” I hiss.
He grins. “Worried?”
I glare. He quirks up one side of that sexy mouth. That I’m noticing his sexiness when I could be minutes away from being peed on only shows how lethal he is.
I feel his chuckle in my very core.
“You’re safe. She went right before we left the set. It hasn’t been long.”
“Thank God,” I breathe in relief. As a teacher, I’ve been peed on before. I don’t recommend it. “We got lucky. And at least we have light.”
And that’s when everything goes black.
CHAPTER2
93 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS (STILL)
Poppy
“You had tosay it,”Ronan grumbles.
“What? You’re crazy. The lights going out is not my fault.” I defend my honor in a fierce whisper.
He sits back. “You jinxed us.”
“How can you be superstitious?” I retort. “You’re Ronan Masters.”
He sighs. A sound that’s loud in the dark.
Belle stirs in my arms. “Wha—” she mumbles, still half asleep.
I don’t want her to wake up and be scared. I admit, I’m freaked out too. The dark is so thick it’s a tangible presence, like drowning in black ink.
With my sight blocked, every rustle of fabric, every shift of position, every breath is magnified. My sense of smell is enhanced as well. Belle’s lavender shampoo reaches me, as does the fresh scent of laundry detergent and something deeper from Ronan. Something that reminds me of walking through the woods in the winter. It has to be pheromones because it makes me want to close the scant distance between us and see if he tastes as good as he smells.
