“I don’t,” I croak out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dallas
Fuck, it’s been a day.
After I dropped Willow off, I helped Maven unpack her bags. We went through all of her painted pictures, letters, and worksheets she’d created. There were several she had drawn with her family doing activities she enjoyed. I flipped through them with a smile, and my heart crashed into my chest when I got near the bottom of the stack.
She and I are standing together, holding hands, and a blonde angel is flying above us. Lucy is flying over us.
The next one was a picture of us with Willow.
My daughter is confused.
Willow is confused.
Shit, I’m confused as a motherfucker.
Cindy’s comments when I picked up Maven didn’t help. Dinner went well until I went to pay the check. After that, Willow froze me out.
I can’t wait to collapse on the couch and go over all the shit I need to fix. I need to clear up the Cindy situation with Willow before shit falls apart.
My day gets even more complicated when I finish Maven’s favorite bedtime story and tuck her in.
“Willow is nice,” she says. “I’m glad she’s coming to my birthday party.”
I kiss her forehead. “Me, too, honey.”
“And she’s really pretty.”
I nod, hoping I can make it out of the room before she starts her favorite game of a million questions.
“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?”
She never fails to catch on to something.
I shake my head and fake a laugh. “Now, that’s a silly question.”
She frowns. “It’s not a silly question.”
“Your daddy can’t have a girlfriend.”
I need to tread lightly here. I can’t get her involved in something that could break her heart. I’m already growing attached to Willow, constantly thinking about her. But can I throw my daughter into the mix? I’m more worried about her heart getting broken than my own.
“Why not? Mommy told me, when she was gone, you’d someday get a new girlfriend who’d be a good mommy to me. Willow would be a good mommy, don’t you think so?” She sighs. “Maybe I’ll ask her.”
Oh, fuck. Holy fuck. This is heading into territory I’m not ready for. Territory Willow isn’t ready for.
I squeeze her sides over the blanket. “Honey, Willow is just Daddy’s friend.”
“And my friend,” she corrects.
“And your friend.”
“She rubs her belly a lot. Marci’s mommy did that all the time when she had a baby in there. Does Willow have a baby in there?”
And shit just got even more complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow
“You’re overthinking this,” Stella says on the phone. “You can’t seriously believe Dallas is messing around with some other chick named fucking Cindy. I’ve never heard of a Cindy, which means she doesn’t get thought of around here.”
I thought the night at the hotel was a crazy one.
That’s nothing compared to today.
I spent a morning with Dallas. We hung out with his daughter. A woman told me he’d been hanging out with her. Maven asked me if I had kids, and I somewhat lied to her. I don’t have kids … yet.
“She said he’s been eating her food. Fried chicken, to be exact,” I argue.
“And?”
“And?” I shout. Why does she not agree that this is a problem?
“Does eating her food mean eating her vagina or something? Is fried chicken a code phrase I don’t know about?”
I slump down on the couch and groan. “I don’t know. I just …” Just don’t want him falling for another woman. I’d better start whipping up some food Betty Crocker–style to compete with this chick’s fried chicken. Time to call KFC for their secret recipe.
“Trust me, you’re the only woman I’ve seen Dallas hanging out with. Shit, even talking to.”
“You not seeing it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. You don’t see me witnessing you screwing Hudson, but I know you guys are.”
“Holy shit,” she bursts out.
“Holy shit what?”
“You’re falling for him, aren’t you? This isn’t about your hook-up the other night or about you wanting to get along for the baby. You’re into him.”
“What?” I yell. “No! Absolutely not!” I’m getting good at this whole lying/denying-my-feelings thing.
“Oh, come on. It’s obvious. You’ve been hanging out, having dinner, giving each other oral before having sex, and picking up his daughter from camp. All that is falling-for-each-other stuff.”
“It’s not obvious.” I take a deep breath to change the tone of my voice to sound more self-contained. “Don’t take me making sure my baby daddy isn’t a psychopath for me falling for him.”
She sighs dramatically. “You owe me a hundred bucks when you two become official. I can take it out of your paycheck. I’ll ask Hudson if anything is going on with Dallas and fried-chicken chick.”
I snort. “Like he’d tell you. Dallas is his brother. Bro code.”
“I can be very persuasive with my man. Trust me.”
I stretch my legs out and measure my stomach—something I’ve been doing every night to track my progress. “I’m beginning to second-guess my decision of forcing the two of you to get back together. All this lovey-dovey crap makes me sick.”
She laughs. “It’s the morning sickness making you sick. I can’t wait until you and Dallas admit you’re in love, and I can throw all of this back in your face. I’ll be the one rolling my eyes at your lovey-dovey shit.”
“Whatever. Dallas is in love with his wife, who passed away.” I’m acting like a brat, feeling sorry for myself, but this is where I start to push him away again. My heart is ready to go back into solitude. You can’t have your heart broken if you don’t give it out. “He’ll always be in love with her, and I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon.”
She expels a long breath. “People move on. He can still love her and you.”
“People can move on, yes, but a man in love as deep as Dallas was? No.” A call beeps through, and I pull my phone away to check the caller ID before she keeps up with her argument. “Let me call you back. I have a call coming through.”
“Is that call from Dallas?”
“Good night, best friend.”
She’s laughing when I end the call to answer his.
“Hello?” I throw my hand over my mouth, regretting taking the call. I haven’t prepared myself for this conversation yet. I have to get myself together.
“Hypothetical situation,” he breathes out, sounding stressed. “What would you say if I told you Maven knew you were pregnant?”
I don’t even have time to think about what I would say before I screech out my reply, “I’d say you were out of your mind, and there was no way she’d know unless someone—say, her father—told her.”