“But not like my mom.” Her chin wobbled and I shifted toward her, my chest tightening until I couldn’t breathe.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. I just meant I would never try to take her spot, to try to pretend I’m your mom, even though I’d like nothing better.” I swallowed over the lump in my throat and reached for her small, chubby, popsicle-stained hand, squeezing it tightly. “Being your mom would have to be the best thing in the world.”
She stared hard at me, that wrinkle deepening and reminding me so much of Seth. “Then why can’t you?”
Such a simple question, with such hard answers. The last thing I wanted to do was to give her false hope that her mom might come back into her life. From what I understood, that wasn’t going to happen. I also didn’t want to indicate I could fill that role. I didn’t know how to be a parent, which probably made this whole situation that much crazier. I so didn’t feel equipped to take care of anyone. Not even myself sometimes. After the years of caring for my mother, my reserves were low. I wasn’t sure I could provide for anyone else.
If we had a baby together, I’d be in that caretaking role all over again in a much more formal role than what I had now with Laurie. Did I want that?
Even as I asked the question, the answer came through loud and clear.
Yes.
Yes, I wanted a baby. I always had, though I wasn’t sure it would ever be in the cards for me. Rarely dating tended to limit one’s chances on finding someone.
Someone else anyway.
I’d found my someone early, and he’d found others while I waited. And that’s exactly what I’d done. Waited for years for a bus that might’ve never stopped for me.
Before I’d found more with Seth—stumbled into via idiotic baby contract—I’d found a strong, pure love for his little girl. One that would never go away.
“I will always be here for you, no matter what,” I whispered, making her a promise in my head. My heart. Whatever happened with Seth, Laurie would always have me in her life. “I might not be your biological mom, but I love you just as much.” I stroked a hand down her hair. “So if there’s ever anything that bothers you, or you want to talk about, I’m here. Okay?”
Laurie didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she hurtled herself into my arms, clinging tight. Just when I was sure she’d move back and run across the lawn, she glanced up at me. “Can you marry my Daddy?”
Panic wrapped around my throat and squeezed. “Um.”
Laurie nodded enthusiastically. “I could wear this.” She pulled at her skirts, her smile wide. “Please?”
It sounded like pweese, and my heart broke a little that she actually wanted that.
She wasn’t the only one.
“Maybe someday,” I murmured, hoping like hell I wasn’t cursing the situation just by saying that much. In my world, wishing for more got you less. It was so much easier not to hope.
Or dream.
The back door opened and Oliver and Seth stepped outside, carting bowls of ice cream. They were so different in spite of looking alike. Oliver’s hair was shorter and straighter, cropped close to his head. Seth’s tended to get shaggy when he wasn’t paying attention. Seth had scruff, Oliver was militantly clean-shaven. Seth wore jeans and a raggedy T-shirt, and Oliver had on a dark suit sans tie, his idea of casual wear.
I was pretty sure every single woman in town—and some not—spent a good chunk of their time trying to figure out how to land one of them. Some industrious types might’ve imagined snagging both for a night or three of fun. Not that they did stuff like that, at least that I knew about. And I would have, because Seth had never been quiet about his hookups.
Killing me a little with every damn one.
“Who wants ice cream?” Seth called, rushing down the steps with Oliver at his heels.
Oliver hadn’t said a word about what he’d witnessed before the party. I’d expected him to make some snarky remark about the kiss, but he’d just slanted me a knowing smile now and then, as if he were sharing some private joke. I’d expected more surprise from him to be honest. Unless maybe others had seen something between me and Seth I never had.
Mainly because I’d been so afraid to wish. Wanting was bad enough.
“Me, me, me! I want ice cream,” Laurie said, pitching sideways off my lap and nearly tumbling to the ground. I caught her just before she went flying, and Seth shot me a panty-wetting grin.
“Nice save, Lawrence.” He sat on the other side of the swing and held out a small bowl of ice cream for his daughter. “Neapolitan for Princess Laurie,” he said formally, making her giggle as she settled between us and dug in with her spoon.
“Why, isn’t this cozy,” Oliver said, passing Seth the bowl of ice cream he carried after Seth gave me his.
“Isn’t it?” Seth returned before I could reply. “Don’t you have stuff to do at home?”
I gasped. “Seth, don’t be rude.”