“Okay,” she said with a firm nod.
He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug, holding onto her until she squirmed out of his grip.
“Too much!” she squealed, laughing as he peppered more kisses on her face.
I smiled as he finally released her and she delivered my cup of coffee to the counter.
“I love you,” he said. “Love you both. I’ll see you later.”
“We love you,” she said.
“We do,” I agreed.
Ethan gave us one last look then forced a tired smile, heading out of the shop. I picked up my cup of coffee and took a long sip as I watched him go.
Just a couple months ago, I’d been so certain that things weren’t going to be okay. In my head, I’d started planning for the worst case scenario—which would be me officially becoming Laura’s guardian. At no point in my life had I ever wanted to be a mother, but I would step into that role for Laura if I had to. In a lot of ways, I already had.
But then Ethan called me and told me he’d found a therapist. He was going to put in the work to change. I still wasn’t sure exactly what made him decide to sign up, but since then, he’d made the effort.
That’s all I really needed to see. Because seeing himtryhelped me to justify doing whatever I could to help out.
Laura gave me a toothy grin. “Can I try your coffee?”
“Nope,” I snorted. “Absolutely not. We’re grabbing some fresh flowers for the hotel lobby, then I’m putting you to work.”
“Doing what?”
“Building boxes for orders.”
“Nooooo. I want to do something more fun. Like cutting ribbons.”
I hesitated. She was old enough to use scissors, yes. But mine were especially sharp.
“Pleaseeee.”
She gave me her best pleading smile, and dammit. The missing tooth did me in.
“Fine,” I sighed.
“Yay! Do I get paid?”
I fought the urge to laugh. “You get paid in pizza. How about that?”
“Yes! Can we get the one with pineapple on it?”
Gross. Pineapple on pizza was my least favorite.
I took a long sip of my coffee, praying the caffeine would get me through the rest of my Sunday. “Sure. If that’s what you want. Let’s get going.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Madi
I couldn’t focus.
After lunch with Dallas, I’d been unable to think about anything other than having sex with him.
The last few years, I’d been with the type of man who never went down on me, lasted about two minutes, and couldn’t tell a fake orgasm from a real one to save his life.Good luck, Veronica.
