Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)
Every day’s the same. I sit on the patio with my coffee in the mornings and inevitably catch sight of her, thanks to those floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the pool. Then she leaves for classes and work and whatever she does after work. I watch for her car, and when it gets late, I think about texting to make sure she’s okay, but then she’s there, parking on the street and heading in to sleep and do it all again the next day.
I need to get a grip. I hurt her, and she doesn’t want shit to do with me now. I need to accept that, but I’m pissed at Itsy, whoever the fuck she is, for telling Stella what I said. I can’t help but think it was a reaction to my note ending our little online flirtation. Like I might not know her, but she knows me, and she told Stella because she wanted to get back at me.
When I catch sight of a swath of red hair from the corner of my eye, I can’t help but turn my attention to the pool house. I shouldn’t stare. I should definitely look away. But fuck. She’s wearing headphones, a fitted tank top, and tiny light pink panties that show off her perfect ass, and she’s . . . she’s dancing.
The sight would make me smile if I weren’t so horrified by my creepy landlord behavior. The truth is, I needed space this week too—to think about how I fucked up and to piece out how I feel about her changing the rules on me. She’s the one who promised we could have a physical relationship without anyone getting hurt, but suddenly I’m an asshole for believing her?
My emotions are a fucking mess. I miss her. I miss how she made me feel. It’s impossible not to feel happier when she’s around. She’s the type of person who’ll take any reason to smile and run with it, because life’s too short to be serious all the time. I might not understand it, but I respect it. In fact, I wish I were a little more like that. It’d make me a better dad.
She sways her hips side to side as she dances to music I can’t hear, turning a slow circle until—busted. She meets my eyes and lifts her hand in a small wave before letting her gaze drift down over my shirtless chest.
A beat later, she looks down at her bare legs and then quickly back up to me—eyes wide, jaw unhinged—before she runs to the stairs and disappears.
Yep, I’ve officially become the creepy landlord.
“She’s totally gonna come,” Hope says, and I realize she was watching Stella too. “She’s my buddy.”
“We’ll see,” I say, and damn, do I hope my daughter’s right.
My phone buzzes. I immediately think it might be a message from Stella and grab it so fast I almost drop it on the concrete.
Amy: Fucking flight’s delayed. If I’m LUCKY I’ll be there sometime today, but there’s no way I’m going to be back in time for the party, which means you’re going to have to take care of the cake and decorations. I’m sorry, Kace.And suddenly, I have bigger worries than my former fling’s attendance at my daughter’s birthday party.* * *StellaKace has been running around his backyard like a chicken with his head cut off all morning. He’s blown up a massive inflatable bounce castle, set up tables and chairs from the garage, and is now cleaning the pool. His bare chest is sweaty, and he has a scowl on his face that morphs into a polite smile when he spots me watching him. At least this time, I’m properly dressed.
Things haven’t been comfortable between us this last week, and apparently that won’t be changing now. My fault. I knew it’d end this way. But I can’t see a guy work this hard for his daughter’s birthday party and not offer to help.
I open the sliding doors and head out to the pool deck. “What’s wrong?”
He screws up his face into that expression that tells me something’s definitely not right, but he doesn’t really want to say. “I hit some bumps with the party. It’ll be okay. I just need to call my mom and see if she can come early to sit with Hope while I run out for some last-minute things.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can stay with her. Or I can run out and get stuff myself—whatever’s easier for you.”
“You don’t have to work today?”
I took the day off to study for Monday’s exam, but that can wait. “Nope. I’m at your service.”
His shoulders sag. “Okay, well, Amy’s stuck in New York. Her flight was delayed. She won’t be home for the party. She’d insisted on getting all the decorations and the cake, but apparently she was just going to pick some up on the way home. Which means I have nothing. If you wouldn’t mind running to the party supply store and maybe grabbing a cake at Costco, then I could stay here and get everything ready.”