“Bye, Miss Sparks,” she mumbles sleepily before hiding her face against my chest.
Ember steps closer, brushing a strand of hair fromSienna’s forehead before her hand lingers on my arm. “I’ll see you in the morning at school.”
“I think you’re gonna have to let the kitty go, bug.” I glance down at the kitten buried between my chest and Sienna’s.
“Can we come back another time so I can play with them?”
“Sure.” I give Ember my best smirk. “I’m definitely coming back to play with Miss Spark’s kitty.”
Her eyes widen under my heated stare. “Anytime.” Her voice is a little higher than usual.
“Night, pumpkin,” I murmur, my voice low enough for only her to hear. “This isn’t over.”
The words hang between us like smoke as I carry my daughter out the door. I glance back at Ember, her lips still glistening, her green eyes wide and wild. And I’m already counting the hours until I can come back.
Chapter Seventeen
EMBER
The cats pile onto the bed like they own the place, warm little weights purring against my legs as I tuck myself under the duvet. Fidget curls against my hip, Cupid sprawls across the pillow I’m not using, and Ghost is glaring from the dresser as if keeping watch.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, making me jump.
Nikita McBossy: How did the date go?
Nikki McTrouble: Please tell me you didn’t drool into your soup.
Only a little. He held my hand, I short-circuited, my fork went rogue.
Nikita McBossy: Was this an official date or a “we just happen to be sitting next to each other” situation?
Unofficial. But we went to the park afterwards.
Raine McNosy: The park?
Nikki McTrouble: Did he push you on the swing?
Nikita McBossy: Bro knows how to woo a girl.
It was kinda romantic. His daughter wanted to play.
Raine McNosy: A walk in the park sounds very Bridgerton.
It was family friendly.
Nikita McBossy: Until you two end up making out behind a tree.
Raine McNosy: Just admit it. You’re already halfway to calling him daddy.
Goodnight. Muting this chat.
Nikita McBossy: You know it’s true. Daddy Drake.
Raine McNosy: She’s blushing.
Nikki McTrouble: Where did she go?
I let my phone slip from my hand onto the bed. I should feel content. It’s late, I’m in clean pyjamas, my book balanced in my lap. A perfect, quiet night. But as I lift my book, the words blur on the page. Every sentence turns into a memory of Drake’s mouth on mine, his hands gripping my waist, the way he growled when I told him I was too wet.
