“Why are we holding hands?” she asked.
“We’re shaking hands,” Paige corrected. She gripped the child’s hand and gave it a quick shake. “It’s what people do when they introduce themselves. I’m—”
But Maddie didn’t bother waiting to hear the large human’s name. Instead she bent down to get something off the floor. “Do you want to see what I’ve got in this box?” It didn’t seem as though Paige had much choice in the matter, since the shoebox in question was now resting on the mattress beside her. Not that she would have said no. The little girl’s eyes sparkled with such excitement, Paige found herself more than a little intrigued.
Maddie carefully removed the lid. When she did, she let out a small squeal, which was nothing compared to the shriek that came out of Paige’s mouth as she peered over the edge of the cardboard to find a large, lumpy toad.
Paige bolted upright, pulling the duvet with her. “Maybe we should keep the cover on that box.”
The little girl looked up at her, confused. “But you can’t pet him if the box is closed. Roger wants to say hello.”
Paige frowned. “Roger?”
“The toad, silly.”
Of course. “How about we save that introduction for after breakfast?”
Maddie shrugged. “Okay.” Once the lid was securely back in place—and Paige’s heart rate had slowed to a mere sprint—she asked, “Are you my dad’s girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” And there went the heart rate again. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m here on vacation.”
Maddie cocked her head to the side the same way her dad had a habit of doing, and a tousle of curls fell across her eyes. She blew them out of the way with a breath that sounded more like a raspberry. “In the winter?”
What was the expression? Out of the mouths of babes.
“It seemed like a good time to enjoy peace and quiet.”
“My dad says I’m Captain Quiet Buster.” She giggled. “He calls me Miss Chatterbox because I’m always talking. Said I came out that way.” She set the shoebox back on the floor. “Sorry if the rain ruined your vacation.”
“It didn’t ruin it,” Paige said, and in that moment, she realized she was right. The rain might have changed the course of her holiday, but for the better. Plus… “The rain brought puppies to stay,” she pointed out. “Have you seen them?”
Maddie nodded, and her curls bounced up and down. “They are sooo cute! I wanted to hold them, but my dad said I should wait to see if the vet says it’s okay. He’s coming out later today.”
“He is?” Paige squinted at the bright sun coming through the window. “So the ferries are running then?” Part of her had hoped the harbormaster’s call had been premature and they’d have at least one more day.
Maddie nodded.
“Well, if the ferries are running, I guess that means I can head home,” she said, more to herself than to her small visitor.
The little girl’s eyes grew so wide she looked like one of the Precious Moments dolls Paige’s mom used to buy for her when she was little. Even as a child, Paige had despised a cluttered bedroom, and knickknacks were public enemy number one.
“You can’t leave! My dad says the puppies printed on you.”
Printed? Did she mean imprinted?
Lucas appeared in the doorway. “There you are.”
“I wanted to introduce the pretty lady to Kermit,” she said, pointing to the box on the floor.
Paige narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said his name was Roger.”
Maddie nodded. “Oh, right.”
Lucas’s gaze shifted to the box, then back to Paige. “Sorry,” he mouthed.
Paige smiled. “It’s fine.” And it was. Assuming Roger/Kermit couldn’t knock the lid off of his box.
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, they weren’t innkeeper and guest standing in a room with a pint-sized human and a quart-sized amphibian. They were just a man and a woman with some seriously unfinished business of the kissing variety. The connection was there. She hadn’t imagined it. But why hadn’t he said something last night? Why did he turn away?
Why didn’t you speak up? The Lizzie McGuire cartoon version of Sammy began a lecture that would no doubt have come and gone all day, but Paige snuffed him out. She knew she’d messed up when she left so much unsaid. She didn’t need an imaginary version of her assistant pointing out the obvious.
“Sure you don’t want to hold him?” Maddie asked, bringing her right back to reality. Paige looked at the small girl. If it weren’t for the sincerity in her eyes, Paige would’ve thought she was joking.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Ms. Parker is a guest, Maddie. Who did not leave a wake-up call.”
“What’s a wake-up call?”
Lucas scooped his daughter into his arms. “That would be you.” Watching the two of them, Paige was struck by how much Maddie resembled both of her parents. She definitely had her father’s hazel eyes and slightly crooked smile, but her hair was a mane of dark-brown curls like her mom’s.
“Well, we’ve never had a guest before.” Maddie’s lower lip jutted out in a tiny pout. “How was I supposed to know?”
Lucas tickled his daughter, and just like that, her pout dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Out, missy,” he said as he set her feet back on the hardwood floor. “And take your new friend with you.”
“But I wasn’t done talking to Ms. Parker.”
“You can call me Paige.”
Maddie cocked her head to one side. “Like a book?”
Paige smiled. “Sort of.”
Maddie picked the shoebox up off the floor. “What kind of book? A funny one or a scary one? Oooh! Is it a book with kissing?”
Lucas’s brows shot up. “Kissing?” he asked, more than a little bit appalled. “What would you know about that?”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Daddy. I know about lots of things.”
“Is that so? Well, we can talk more about that downstairs.” He placed his hands on Maddie’s shoulders, guiding her to the door as he shot a comically exasperated look at Paige. “Five one day, fifteen the next.”
Paige had to stifle a laugh. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for over the next few years. If he thought toads and talk of kissing were bad, wait until he had to deal with training bras and texting.