Chapter 10 #2
“If it’s okay with your dad, I’d love to stay and watch a movie with you.”
She jerks Sutton’s arm so hard he nearly stumbles. “Daddy? Can Miss Alice stay?”
Sutton gazes down at his daughter, effectively shutting me out. “Of course, Buttercup. If Ms. Thompson wants to stay, she’s welcome to.”
Clearly, Sutton expects me to turn down his daughter.
He should know I’d never willingly break her heart.
The house comes into sight, the yellow front porch light a welcoming beacon. Nellie relieves me of Merit’s leash with an insistent tug. The two of them trot up the driveway ahead of Sutton and me.
“You could still say no,” Sutton grumps. “Make something up.”
“Nellie doesn’t think so.” I casually sweep my hair off my neck and into a messy bun.
Sutton watches my movements from the corner of his eye. “You don’t really want to watch a kids’ movie. You’re just doing it to piss me off.”
I don’t. But I also don’t want to go home.
“Is it working?” I tuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Come on, Sutton. Is it really going to kill you to sit silently with me for an extra hour and a half?”
“Yes, Ms. Thompson. It just might.”
“Why do you insist on calling me that?”
Sutton turns up his driveway. “Boundaries, Ms. Thompson. Something you seem to lack.”
My jaw drops open, closing again when I can’t find a single retort.
Sutton disarms the security alarm that Nellie left beeping and disappears into the house after his daughter.
He drops it so casually as if he hasn’t been the one skirting boundaries since I showed up here. Dropping by my house and calling me in the middle of the night and showing up at the park to walk his daughter home as if I’m not capable. The only one tripping over boundaries here is Sutton Stone.
Tipping my chin to the sky, I draw in a few cleansing breaths, rethinking my desire to stay longer than I have to. Sutton might have inadvertently given me another reason to hire a witch.
“You comin’, Miss Alice?” Nellie pokes her head out of the door.
I give her a soft smile. “I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll get the popcorn!” The screen door slams behind her.
The glow of the television guides my way to the darkened living room when I enter the house. Nellie sits up on her calves and watches my approach as if she’s afraid I might have changed my mind.
“You can sit by me!” Her little hand pats the empty couch square on her left.
Sutton studiously avoids looking in my direction from his place on her right.
“Thank you, darlin’.” I tap the end of her nose and drop onto the cushion.
“Here.” She shovels a handful of blanket onto my lap. “Sometimes during movie night, it gets cold.” She draws out the word as she fakes a shiver.
The microfiber blanket is soft beneath my fingertips. As I smooth it over my thighs, I realize the fabric is stretched to its limit. A glance down the couch confirms my suspicion. The three of us are sharing it.
I’m beneath the same blanket as Sutton.
My lungs inflate faster than I intend. I don’t need to look to confirm he isn’t pleased with the current state of things. Without drawing too much attention, I carefully give a little of it back.
“What movie are we watching?” I ask, eager to move the evening along. At least once the film starts, there will be no reason to talk.
“School of Rock!” Nellie answers.
“Really? The one with Jack Black?” I move my gaze over Nellie’s head, but Sutton continues to ignore me.
“Yep. Someday, I’m going to join a rock band.” Nellie bobs her head as if she’s listening to an imaginary rock song.
“What instrument would you play?”
“Drums! Right, Daddy? You said I could get drums for my birthday this year.”
Sutton wraps his arm around Nellie’s shoulders and smiles down at her. “That is what I said.”
“Yippee! I’m going to be a rock star!” The eight-year-old jumps up onto her feet on the center cushion. Sutton rescues the bowl of popcorn from tumbling off her lap. She waves her skinny arms as she plays imaginary air drums.
“Not if I have to use the money for a drum set to replace the couch.” Sutton’s reprimand is gentle, and Nellie immediately drops back to her butt.
“Sorry.”
“’S’okay. Why don’t you start the movie? I’m sure Ms. Thompson doesn’t want to be awake all night.”
Nellie looks at me with large blue eyes. “But then we could have a sleepover,” she breathes.
Sutton grunts. “Not tonight. We’re going to Grammy’s tomorrow.”
“She could come with us to Grammy’s too!”
“Honey, Ms. Thompson doesn’t live here. She has her own life to get back to.”
Oh, yes. My life of taking care of myself, my diabetes, and my cactus. I spend more time with the Stone family than I do at my rental. This pretty much is my life right now, but I don’t say that out loud.
Nellie rolls her neck, bringing her face back to mine. “Maybe next time,” she drones.
I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “For sure.”
The withering glare Sutton sends my way says absolutely not, but it’s my turn to ignore him.
Finally, someone hits Play, and the movie starts. For a moment, I’m concerned the rock concert will reignite Nellie’s air drums, but she seems content settled in the crook of Sutton’s arm as Jack Black dives off the stage.
My body relaxes as I become engrossed in the movie. I’ve seen it before, but it’s probably been at least fifteen years.
“Want some?” Nellie whispers, gesturing to the large bowl of popcorn in her lap.
I hide the glow of my phone as I open my CGM app. From the corner of my eye, I watch Sutton reach for some, his large hand eclipsing most of the bowl.
Popcorn is a no-go.
The risk of touching him isn’t worth the deliciously buttered morsels.
For the rest of the movie, I keep my hands in my lap and my gaze fixed on the bright, flickering screen.
It’s a good thing I’ve seen the movie before, because I’m too aware of Sutton on this couch to retain anything new.
By the time my bones begin to ache from my rigid position, the end credits are rolling, and the band plays AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top. ”
A twinge spreads up the side of my neck as I move it for the first time in over an hour. Beside me, I find Nellie with her face burrowed in Sutton’s chest.
“She fell asleep,” I whisper, pointing at the sleeping girl.
Sutton’s lips twitch, and he brushes her hair from her face. “She usually does. She’s an early riser, but she can’t hang past nine o’clock.”
They paint the picture of a loving father-daughter relationship. The kind I used to mourn long after my dad left.
“Don’t lose that,” I murmur. “Don’t you ever let her down.”
Sutton’s eyes flick to mine. The normally bright blue appears as a muted gray in the flickering TV light. “Not intentionally. Never that, but you and I both know I will at some point.”
I nod, my lips flattened into a thin line. I get what he’s saying. You can be the best parent in the world, and at some point, your kid will still find a reason to think you ruined their life.
My shoulders slump. “Yeah.”
“I’d give anything to keep that from happening.”
“I know, Sutton.” I rise from the couch, stretching quietly. “Anyway, I need to go.” I straighten the hem of my shirt, dropping my hands to my sides in search of my things.
Sutton’s hand shoots out and captures my wrist. His fingers wrap in a strong grip.
“Do you?”
My brows dip. “Do I what?”
He’s not asking me to stay… Is he? There’s no way in hell he’s asking me that.
A muscle jumps in the corner of his hardened jaw. He drops my hand. “Do you know I’d give anything to make her happy?”
Oh. I mentally kick myself. My lack of attention as of late is causing me to read too far into things.
“Of course. You’re a good dad, Sutton. Anyone with eyes can see that.”
His chin dips in a choppy nod. “Appreciate that.”
“Good night.”
I hightail it into the kitchen in search of my crossbody and cooler. I locate Bert on the counter and tuck my little cactus into my purse.
Footsteps behind me ratchet up my pulse before I have a chance to escape.
A deep breath steels my nerves enough to turn around. I don’t know what’s going on this evening, but this version of Sutton is unfamiliar.
I blink against the harsh light from the television.
The glow casts Sutton in silhouette, but not enough that I can’t make out his dark blue jeans or the black cotton tee stretched across his chest. Solid biceps bulge from the way he has his arms crossed as he leans against the doorway between the two rooms.
He looks good.
And I am a goddamn saint for not jumping his bones. The promise of hot hate sex is huge.
His eyes meet mine, and suddenly, I feel like he can read my very indecent thoughts.
“Thank you. I haven’t said that yet, and I’m starting to feel like a prick about it.”
The tension eases, and I laugh softly. “Yeah, well, you should.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I deserve that.” He drops his gaze to the floor. “Truly, though.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”
“Yeah.” Sutton releases his arms and knocks once on the wall. “Get home safe, yeah?”
I pick up my travel mug, feeling uncharacteristically off-kilter. “I will.”