“Is that any way to talk to your best friend?” She mock glares at me.
“I’m sorry.”
She waves me off. “Don’t be. You’re kiss drunk.” I don’t correct her. “Anyway, I’ve already read all the pregnancy books you sold me. I need more.”
I smile at her. “I thought you might. I ordered a few more just for you.” I reach under the register for the books that I ordered and put them back just for her.
“How much do I owe you?” she asks, pulling out her wallet.
“Nothing. These are on me. It’s an early baby gift.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I want to.”
“Bring it in, bestie.” She holds her arms open, and I walk into them, hugging her as tight as the baby will allow.
“Let me know if you need more after these,” I tell her.
“When this little one thinks it’s time to play soccer in the middle of the night, these will keep me company.”
“Oh, I read a good romance—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Pregnancy hormones are legit, and I can’t be reading that in the middle of the night. Poor Tucker would never get rested.” She grins.
“Fair enough.”
“I should get going. We need to have dinner, the four of us. Soon.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
With another hug, she leaves just in time for me to hear my phone alert me to a message.
Grayson: I miss you already.
Me: You know how to make a girl smile.
Grayson: You’re the only woman I want to make smile. As for the girls, that’s reserved for my daughters.
Me: I miss you too.
Grayson: I’ll see you soon.
Me: Yes, you will.
Placing my phone on my desk, I grab my now cold half-eaten bowl of stew and scarf it down. Grabbing Grayson’s, I run them upstairs, dropping them in the sink and rushing back downstairs to get back to work.
Chapter 14
Grayson
It’s finally Saturday, and tonight is date night with Laken. I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to this night. I haven’t seen her since Wednesday night when she came over for dinner and baked with the girls. That’s becoming something that all four of us look forward to. We still haven’t told the girls that we’re dating, and with each passing day, it gets harder and harder to conceal my feelings for her. I want to tell them soon. They love her, and she’s so damn good with them.
She stayed long after they went to bed on Wednesday night. The memory of making out like teenagers on the couch makes my heart splutter in my chest. I’m in deep with her. I used to think I’d never find love again, but that’s before Laken Abbott. I still feel some level of guilt. I just keep reminding myself that Holly is gone, and I have to keep living. For me. For my girls and for Holly.
Aside from date night, I still have stuff I have to get done today. I have to push Laken out of my mind so I can get them done. First up, getting the girls dressed and their hair at least combed, and off to the grocery store we go.
“Girls!” I call out for them. The slapping of their little feet against the hardwood floor tells me they’re on their way. They appear in front of me wearing wide smiles, and— “Is that makeup?”
“Uh-huh. It’s pwetty, right, Daddy?” Hayden asks.
“Where did you get makeup?”
“Nana.” Harlow shrugs. Shrugs! Like a damn teenager. Lord help me. When they reach their teen years, I’m going to need it.
“Which one?” I’m going to need them to be more specific so I don’t go off on the wrong nana.
“Nana Jackie,” they answer together.
“Perfect,” I say sarcastically, not that my daughters pick up on it. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We need to go to the store.”
“Okay.” They take off running down the hall, with me hot on their tail. Following them into the bathroom to help them wash up, I freeze when I see the mess before me. There is makeup everywhere. As in all over the counter, the mirror, and the walls.
“Girls, you know makeup goes on your face only, right?”
“We know,” they tell me.
“Of course you do,” I mutter.
“All right, strip down. Time for another bath.”
“We just did our makeup.”
“I know, but it’s illegal for little girls to go out in public with this much makeup on, and it’s all over everything. So you both need another bath.”
“But—” they start, and I glare at them, crossing my arms over my chest. I’ve perfected the dad look over the years, and they know when they get “the look” that I mean business.
They start stripping while I get the water running. My cell rings in my pocket, and I think about ignoring it, but it might be Laken. Fishing it out of my back pocket, I see my mother’s calling. “Are your ears ringing?” I ask, instead of saying hello.