“Fine,” she grumbles, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Little Paisley Gray reminds me so much of her mother.
“You ladies hungry?” I ask them.
“Starving,” Paisley says dramatically, dropping her shoulders as if she’s been waiting days for me to offer her food.
“How about some pizza? There’s a great place just down the street.”
“I only like cheese on my pizza. That other stuff is nasty.” She wrinkles her little nose.
“Cheese is it.” I look over at Larissa. “What do you say? Can I buy you ladies some dinner?”
She opens her mouth to protest, but Paisley beats her to it. “Of course. Mommy says that when people do something nice for you, you say thank you and accept it. Thank you, East,” she says, wrapping her arms around my leg in a hug. I smooth back some of her dark curls.
“What do you say, Ris?” I ask, holding my hand out for her.
She looks at me then to her daughter and back to me again. She exhales loudly, as if the words she’s about to speak pains her to say them. “Thank you, Easton.” Her voice is super sweet with a hint of sarcasm that her daughter doesn’t pick up on. To my surprise, she takes my offered hand, and her palm fits against it as if we’re two puzzle pieces meant to be together. With a smile on my face and a gorgeous girl on either side of me, we leave the stadium to get some cheese pizza.I’m sitting across the booth from Easton and P, who insisted she sit next to him, and watching their interaction. He’s been great with her all day. When the pizza, cheese of course, was delivered to our table, she asked him to cut it up for her, and even though I protested that I could do it, he did it himself. All while smiling and listening to my daughter yammer on about how she wants a pink glove but they were sold out when we went to the store.
“Mommy, can I go play games now?” Paisley asks with pizza sauce all over her face.
“Not like that you’re not.” Easton laughs and gingerly wipes her mouth with a napkin.
Watching him with her pulls at something deep inside me. I’ve mourned the loss of my husband, but I don’t know if I’ll ever mourn the loss of the father he was supposed to be to our little girl. I know what it felt like to have his eyes smile at me, what it felt like to be on the receiving end of one of his hugs, but Paisley, she doesn’t. Not just Steve, but any man. Now here we sit, with the all-star, the king of the Blaze, Easton Monroe, and he’s lavishing her—hell, if I’m honest—both of us with his attention, and my daughter is soaking it up like a sponge. Me, on the other hand, I’m fighting it—this pull I feel every time he ruffles her hair or returns her hug. Every time he smiles down at her then turns that megawatt grin on me, I’m fighting it, but I don’t know how much longer I can.
“There,” he says, setting down the napkin. “Now can we go, Mom?” he asks. I raise my eyebrows in question, and he shrugs. “We want to play Skee-ball.”
“One game, then we need to get going. It’s almost your bedtime,” I tell her. She nods her little head up and down like a bobblehead doll. Reaching into my purse for some singles, I turn to hand them the money, but they’re already gone, racing toward the games.
Just as I’m about to join them, my cell phone rings. When I see Chloe’s face on the screen, I know that if I don’t answer, she’ll keep calling back. “Hey,” I greet her, keeping my eyes on Easton and P.
“Where are you?”
“Pizza place just down from the stadium.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks coyly. “How was it today? Did you run into him?”
“I did. I saw Drew as well.”
“So I heard. I also heard the three of you left together.”
“We did.”
“And?”
“And what?” I’m evading, and we both know it.
“Spill it, woman.”
“He offered to take us to dinner and offered pizza. You know little miss loves her pizza.”
“Uh-huh, what next?”
“She was excited, and he’s been so good to her all day, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”
“What about you? Has he been good to you?”
“He’s… not at all what I pegged him to be. You should see him with her, Chloe. He jumps right in, cutting up her food, wiping her mouth. They’re now playing Skee-ball.” Once my words register, worry starts to kick in. “What am I doing? I can’t let my daughter get attached to him. Stupid,” I mutter to myself.
“First of all, it’s one day. Second, you’re not stupid. You need to open up, live a little. Drew assures me that East is a good guy.”