“Here you go.”
“Also,” Gabby continues, “I’m not sleepy.”
“That Benadryl will soon make you sleepy,” Carter says as we leave the room. Then he says to me, “Thank you, for all this.”
“It’s my pleasure. Really. I’ll wait in the living room while you tuck her in.”
I make a pit stop in the kitchen and pour us each a glass of Carter’s favorite wine, then make my way to his living room. As I get comfortable on the couch, I stare out at the city lit up beyond the windows. New York sure is pretty at night.
I’ve had a few sips of wine when Carter comes into the room and collapses on the couch with a sigh.
“She should fall asleep soon. She was reading one of the magazines you brought her.”
“Good. Sleep will do her good. What’s up with the letter?”
Carter sighs and sips his wine. “Darcy left a stack of letters for Gabby to read throughout the rest of her life. This one is for when she’s feeling sick. There are letters for when she graduates from high school, college, gets married, has babies.”
“Oh,” I say and blink away tears. “That’s actually really beautiful.”
I want to ask if she left any letters for him, but before I can, he grins, showing me that dimple.
“So.” He reaches for me and tugs me over to him. “Show me this scar again.”
“You want to see my scar?”
“I want to see more than that, but let’s start there.”
I grin and straddle him on the couch, then lift my shirt to show him the tiny mark on my skin. His hands cradle my ass, and the next thing I know, he’s leaning in to kiss me, right over the scar.
Damn, this man is intoxicating.
His hands move up, under my shirt and over my flesh as his lips take a tour of my ribs, and the tender underside of my breasts. Just as he reaches back to unfasten my bra, we hear, “Daaaaaad!”
“Shit,” he whispers, pressing his face to my stomach.
“It’s probably for the best.”
“I know. I’m not going to make love to you for the first time when my kid is here.”
I grin just as Gabby lets out another loud “Daaaaad!”
“Cockblocked by my own flesh and blood,” he mutters as he sets me aside and stands to go see to her, making me giggle.
I know he’s being silly. Gabby has always been, and will always be, his number one priority. And that’s exactly how it should be.
I finish my wine and set the glass aside, then settle back again against the soft cushions and pillows of Carter’s sofa. There’s a throw blanket nearby, so I reach for it and toss it over me.
It’s been a busy, eventful week. I never would have thought, even a week ago, that this is where I’d be tonight. Not here as an employee, but as something more. It’s not awkward at all.
It feels . . . good.
So good, in fact, that my eyes are heavy, and I give in to the sleepiness.
“Shhh, don’t wake her up.”
I keep my eyes closed and listen to Carter and Gabby. They’re close by. Maybe in the kitchen?
I take a deep breath and smell coffee and bacon.
Yep, they’re in the kitchen.
“Why did she sleep over?” Gabby asks in a loud whisper.
“Because she fell asleep on the couch,” Carter replies softly. “I’m serious, Gabs, don’t wake her up. She’s tired.”
“I’m not gonna wake her up,” Gabby says. “She looks comfy. I’ve never slept on that couch. Maybe I should try it.”
“Are you going to keep talking?” Carter asks, making me smile. Of course she’s going to keep talking. Talking is what Gabby does best.
The name Gabby fits her to a T.
“I’m not being loud,” she says defensively, and I decide to put them both out of their misery.
“It’s okay,” I say and sit up, stretching my arms above my head. “I’m awake.”
“Did I wake you?” Gabby asks. “’Cause if I did, Dad might strangle me.”
“No, the delicious smell of bacon woke me,” I say and pad into the kitchen. I stop by Gabby, who’s sitting on a stool at the island, and kiss her forehead. “Your fever is a bit better this morning. Did you take more Tylenol?”
“Not yet,” she says.
“I’ll give you some,” I offer. “After you eat. I see you have the oven mitts on.”
“I can’t stop scratching,” she admits. “The mitts help, I guess. I look silly.”
“And that’s always fun,” I reply with a wink. I walk around the island to see if I can help Carter cook breakfast.
“You guys aren’t going to, like, kiss in front of me are you? I mean, I’m already sick.”
“You mean like this?” I push up to my tiptoes and kiss Carter’s cheek.
“Ew,” Gabby says.
“Or like this?” Carter says, surprising me by wrapping his arms around my back and dipping me dramatically, the way they do in the movies. He kisses me soundly, and when we come back up, Gabby’s face is one of pure mortification.