“You should take a bath,” I say, my voice rough.
“No, I don’t want to disturb Lilly. I’ll be fine.”
I drop my hands and step back. The bathroom she shares with Lilly is right across from Lilly’s room, so I can understand why she wouldn’t want to run a bath while my daughter is supposed to be falling asleep. “Use mine. You can throw some Epsom salts in there and run the jets. You’ll feel so much better.”
She turns to meet my eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
I shrug. “I’m not using it. Please, help yourself.”
She beams at me. “Not gonna lie, I’ve had full-blown fantasies about that tub, so I’m struggling to dismiss the idea.”
“Then don’t.” Everything in me—including my voice—has gone weak at the sight of that smile. The first night I met her, I thought she was beautiful, but seeing her with Lilly transforms that beauty into something that leaves me in awe on a daily basis. Now having that smile directed at me, I look at her, and for the first time, I understand the word stunning.
And that scares the shit out of me.
Nicole
When Ethan walks away from me, my body is still humming from his touch. I liked his hands on my shoulders and the heat of him standing so close. I liked it so much that I let myself close my eyes and commit the moment to memory.
His footsteps fade into his bedroom, and I imagine him changing out of his work clothes, stripping down to his briefs, and pulling on the type of lounge pants and T-shirt he favors for his evenings at home. Not long after, I hear the sound of his feet on the stairs, then the landing as he heads to Lilly’s room.
I take a deep breath. Intellectually, I know our interaction was about my sore shoulder. But the less intellectual parts of me—the parts that have replayed our conversation from Saturday ad nauseam—want to believe he enjoyed touching me. The wicked parts of me want to believe that when he’s alone later, he’ll think about an alternate reality where that touch could have become something more.
I wonder if his kiss was as good as I remember or if the tequila made it seem better than it was.
Sighing, I shake my head and try to snap out of my fantasies.
I wipe down the counters and wash the sink full of baking dishes, then put the cookies from the cooling rack into Tupperware. When the timer on the oven beeps, I remove the last tray of cookies and put them on the stove to cool. I’ll wrap those later.
I head upstairs and pass Lilly’s room on the way to mine. She and Ethan are sitting on the chair at the head of her bed, and she’s snuggled in his lap as he reads her Pete the Cat. I poke my head into the room. “Night, Lil. See you in the morning, sweetheart.”
“Night, Nicky!” she says, snuggling into her daddy’s chest and smiling.
I get my robe and pajamas from my room before going back down to Ethan’s, grabbing my phone and wireless headphones from the kitchen counter on my way.
The light in his bedroom is on, and his bed is still unmade from this morning. I feel weird using his bathroom. It’s an oddly intimate space to share, but my desire to sit in that big tub with all the jets on my sore muscles outweighs any awkwardness I feel.
I run the bath and let the tub fill while I strip off my clothes and fold them into a neat pile in the corner.
On the counter, there’s a container of Epsom salts that I didn’t notice when I cleaned the sinks in here this morning. He must have pulled them out for me. I bite back a smile and dump a scoop into the tub before I climb in. The water feels amazing—hot and fizzy against my skin.
I cue up my favorite relaxing playlist, turn on the jets, sink into the water, close my eyes, and indulge in a Grey’s Anatomy-style fantasy starring Dr. McBroody Pants and his daughter’s dutiful nanny.
Ethan
Lilly is such a chatterbox when I’m getting her to bed that I think it might be hard for her to settle down. But once her head hits the pillow, her eyes close, and her whole body goes limp. It’s going to be one of those blessed nights when she doesn’t fight sleep.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” she murmurs as I tuck her in.
I kiss her head. “Goodnight, princess.” I turn on the closet light and close the door behind me as I leave.
Nic must have really worn her out in the snow. My mom did a lot with her when I couldn’t be here, but Mom’s getting older and has been getting tired really easily lately. She can only do so much snowman-building and cookie-baking before her various aches and pains start to get to her.