"No, you said she was pretty when I said she looked like a princess. You said 'yeah, she is.'"
There's a pause that feels like it stretches forever.
"Okay, yes, she's pretty," Casey says finally, and my heart races. "But that doesn't mean—"
"It means you LIKE her!"
"It means I have eyes, Riley. That's all."
"So, you're NOT going to marry her?"
"We've been over this. I'm not marrying someone I just met."
"But you COULD. If you got to know her. And she's staying here, so you WILL get to know her, and then—"
"Riley Elizabeth Brennan, we are NOT having this conversation again."
I'm biting my lip so hard I'm surprised I'm not drawing blood, trying desperately not to laugh.
He thinks I'm pretty.
Casey Brennan, six feet of muscle and grease-stained hands and a smile that could melt steel, thinks I'm pretty. It shouldn't matter. It's just a casual observation, the kind of thing anyone might say. It doesn't mean anything.
But God, it feels good to hear it anyway.
Riley's still going. "I'm just SAYING, if you DID want to marry her—"
"What I WANT is to make dinner without discussing my hypothetical love life with a four-year-old."
"I'm almost FIVE."
"That doesn't make this conversation less ridiculous. Now go wash your hands."
I hear small footsteps stomping toward what must be the bathroom, and I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.
This is insane. This whole situation is completely insane.
But for the first time in six months, I'm not thinking about the empty passenger seat or the promises I couldn't keep or the weight of grief that sits on my chest every morning when I wake up.
I'm thinking about a little girl who wants her dad to marry a stranger, and a man who blushes when his daughter calls him out, and the fact that maybe, just maybe, this breakdown was exactly what I needed.
I pick up my pen again.
*Annie, I think I'm going to like it here. At least for a little while.*
*I really wish you could meet them.*
Chapter 4 - Casey
I stand in the kitchen, staring at a box of macaroni and cheese like it holds the answers to the universe, and try to figure out what the hell just happened.
Riley has never been like this before. Never.
She's asked about her mom, sure. Usually in that casual way kids do when they're trying to understand their world. *Where's my mommy? Why don't I have one like Sophie does?*
And I've answered as honestly as I can without completely destroying her: *Your mom had to leave, but that doesn't mean you're not loved. You have me, and Grandma and Grandpa, and that's enough.*
She's always seemed satisfied with that. Maybe not happy about it but satisfied. So why is she suddenly playing matchmaker?
