Chapter 3
DREW
Izzy hasn’t stopped asking about seeing Willa again.
I worry sometimes about how attached she gets to women who pop in and out of her life.
My mom suggested looking into therapy for her, just as a way to stay on top of the grief she might be holding without knowing how to express herself to me.
I’ll have to ask Ben if he knows of anyone in Holly Ridge who works with young kids.
We walk out into the public parking lot, and Izzy releases a loud squeal.
Before I realize what’s happening, she’s taking off running down the line of cars without me.
Panic seizes my chest as I follow, terrified of her getting hit or falling on ice and splitting her head open.
A thousand awful scenarios playing out as I catch up to her.
It only takes one look to realize why she was so excited. Willa is standing in front of a white conversion van with its hood open. Her palms are braced on the edge while she examines the engine. A black labrador sits beside her, tail wagging against the pavement while it watches Izzy approach.
Willa looks up and smiles at Izzy, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, you.”
“Isabel,” I say sternly. “You know better than to run through a parking lot like that.”
“Sorry, Daddy.” She looks at her shoes.
“Just don’t do it again.”
“Okay.” Her gaze moves back to Willa. “Can I pet your dog?”
“Yes, you may. Good job asking permission first.”
Izzy preens under the praise before dropping down and petting the dog. I set our skis down, leaning them carefully against Willa’s van.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not entirely sure. The van was running just fine when I left the campground this morning, but now when I try to start it, the engine won’t turn over.”
Campground? I’m really curious about that, surely she’s not camping in the snow, right?
“Is it the battery?” I ask.
“It shouldn’t be. I replaced it this summer along with all the other batteries the van runs off of.” She looks over at me and must see the confusion on my face. “I live in it, so there’s a secondary battery that supports the electrical systems.”
“Oh.” I look at the engine, and even though I don’t know a single fucking thing I’m looking at, I tell her to hop in and try to start it. She does and the engine only makes a sad, sputtering noise that sounds pathetically awful.
“Any ideas?” she asks when she comes back to the front of the van.
“Not a clue,” I say after a second. “I’m so sorry I can’t be more help.”
“Fuck,” she mumbles quietly. She runs her hands over her face and groans. “I’ll have to call a tow service I guess.”
“Will you need a ride anywhere afterward? Where will you stay?”
Her face pales. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m going to have to find a place to couch surf.”
“Stay with us.” The offer flies from my mouth before my brain can even catch up.
Her eyes widen in surprise that mirrors my own. Her lips part, but no words come out.
“I mean that in the least weird way possible. We live in a townhouse; the other half I’m currently fixing up as a vacation rental. It’s sparsely furnished, and I’m doing quite a bit of work, but it’s livable. The first floor has been updated, including the primary suite.”
“That’s so kind of you to offer—”
“Willa is moving in next door?” Izzy pops up between us. “Can Maya come, too? Will you braid my hair like yours?”
My lips lift at the corner as I pat her head. If I don’t quell her excitement now, she’ll keep peppering us with questions. “Let’s let Willa think about it. It’s not every day a stranger offers to let someone stay with them.”
“We’re not strangers,” Izzy sets her hands on her hips, offended by my statement. “You don’t think that, do you?” she asks Willa.
“No, I just…” she trails off. I watch as every refusal she could have flits behind her green eyes.
“We have a big yard for Maya,” Izzy says. “And I promise not to come over a lot. Unless you want me to.”
Willa’s lips lift in a smile. “With an offer like that, how can I refuse?” Her eyes meet mine, and she mouths that she’ll pay me.
I shake my head; there’s not a chance in hell I’m accepting any money for this. “Go ahead and call a tow service. We’ll wait for you.”
“I already called one, but you don’t have to wait with me. I’m sure you have stuff to do.”
“Actually, we don’t.”
“Can I see in your van?” Izzy asks.
“Yeah. I guess I need to pack a bag.” She closes the hood.
“I’m going to go take care of the skis, are you sure you’re okay with her?”
“I am, we’ll be fine together for a few minutes.”
I give her a smile and head off to the Jeep.
A smile creeps up my lips as I hear my daughter laughing and talking to her.
Offering this is one of the most out of character things I’ve ever done.
It’s not that I’m not happy to help whenever and however I can, but after the last couple years, I just value mine and Izzy’s privacy deeply.
When I get back to Willa’s van, I find Izzy perched on Willa’s bed while she watches her put neatly folded piles of clothes into a duffel bag. Maya lays on a dog bed underneath the mattress. I can’t help looking around the van curiously.
There’s a small sink and butcher block counter along one wall.
Behind the driver’s seat is what could either be a very small bathroom or closet.
A table with two single bench seats is behind it and then a small refrigerator and freezer with more counter space over it.
Fairy lights and faux greenery are pinned to the ceiling, giving an enchanted forest vibe to the space.
“Daddy, can we get one of these?” Izzy asks, finally noticing me. “You said we might camp next summer.”
“I don’t think I’d fit in here, Bug. Maybe we can try out a bigger camper.”
Willa smirks over at me. “I made sure I had enough clearance to stand up before I bought it, but you’ve got at least six or seven inches on me.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I didn’t fit somewhere.” It hits me about two seconds too late how dirty that sounds. My eyes flit to hers, and I see her suppressed laugh. Good to know she has a similar sense of humor to mine.
Orange flashing lights shine through the window as the tow truck pulls up.
I grab Izzy and tell Willa we’ll wait for her at my Jeep.
The parking lot has cleared out for the most part, so the tow truck driver doesn’t have an issue maneuvering around to line the bed of his truck up with the front of her van.
She brings over her bags with Maya walking along beside her. I jump out of the driver’s seat and take the bags to put them in the back while she lets Maya into the back seat. Izzy is over the moon excited to have the dog sitting within petting distance.
“Thanks again for taking us in,” Willa says as she buckles her seat belt. “Hopefully it’s just for a day or two, and then we can get out of your hair.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as it takes. I’m completely serious about it not being a big deal for us.” I glance back at Izzy in the rearview mirror. “Plus, I haven’t seen her this excited in a long time. It’s nice.”
Willa looks back and smiles. “She’s a great kid. I’ve loved teaching her how to ski.”
“Just her? Not me?” I tease.
“You’re okay.”
I run my palm along my jaw and bite back a smile. The urge to flirt with her is riding me hard. This could get interesting.
“Would you mind stopping at the grocery store?” she asks. “I need a few things to get me through. I’m so sorry to ask for yet another favor.”
“Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up a few things, too.”
“What do you want for dinner, Bug?” I ask Izzy as she sits at the kitchen counter coloring.
“Nuggets.”
I sigh knowing I should make something else for her.
She tends to get fixated on a certain meal, and it’s all she wants for weeks at a time.
But I just don’t have the energy tonight.
Ava asked if I could write up a short paragraph about myself for the MC to read before auctioning me off, and I need to get it to her by tonight.
“How about nuggets with some carrots and cucumber?”
She gives me a thumbs up without looking up from her coloring sheet. Once I get the air fryer plugged in and heated up, I start cutting up her veggies, stealing a few carrots as I go. I’m not in the mood to make myself something different, so I double everything.
A knock at the front door draws my attention, and before I can say anything, Izzy is running to answer it. She’s just pulling open the front door when I catch up.
“Izzy,” I warn her sternly. She knows she’s not supposed to answer the door unless I’m right there with her.
“It’s probably Willa. Maybe she needs our help.” She bounces impatiently.
“That doesn’t change the rules, Bug.”
“Fine.” She huffs and pops her hip out with more attitude than any preschooler has the right to have.
Willa smiles nervously as I pull open the door and step back, inviting her in out of the cold.
“I don’t want to interrupt your night any more than I already have, but I was wondering if you had linens and a towel? I went looking in all the closets but couldn’t find anything.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. I showed her everything in the kitchen but completely forgot she’d need towels and linens for the bed.
“That’s twenty dollars for the swear jar, Daddy.”
Willa rolls her lips inward, biting back a smile. “I would have texted, but I don’t have your number.”
“Of course, I’ll go grab some stuff for you.” The air fryer timer dings just as I start down the hall to grab everything she could need. “Damnit.” I turn to go back to the kitchen, but she places her hand on my chest.
“I can take care of whatever is in the kitchen.” She holds out her hand for Izzy. “Come with me, kiddo?”
“Okay,” Izzy happily agrees and slips her hand in Willa’s.
The sight of my daughter happily walking off with someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger should make me nervous.
Instead, a warmth spreads through me at the sight.
I never felt this way with the nanny I hired during football season.
I was plagued by a sense of doom every time I left Izzy with her.
Laughter drifts down the hall as I climb the stairs and pull open the linen closet. I grab several towels of different sizes, an extra set of sheets, a thick blanket, and two pillows. She should be good with this, at least I can’t think of anything else off the top of my head.
I poke my head in the kitchen and find them side by side as Willa plates the food.
While she’s busy with Izzy, I take everything next door.
It’s an armload for me, so it would probably take two trips for her.
I slip on the pink Crocs that Izzy got me for Father’s Day and ignore the cold bite of the wind on my exposed skin as I cross the wood boards of our shared front porch and let myself into the other dwelling.
Warmth cocoons me as I shut the door with my foot. Carrying the linens into the primary suite, I notice some of her clothes laying out on the bed. It looks like a matching set of some sort, so it could be pajamas, I’m not here to snoop.
I set the sheets, blanket, and pillows on the end of the bed.
When I walk into the bathroom, I see a handful of products spread over the counter, like she was getting ready to take a shower and then realized there were no towels.
I can’t believe I forgot to bring this type of stuff over.
She probably thinks I’m a complete idiot.
Or worse, just an inconsiderate asshole.
She wouldn’t be the first to have that impression of me.
Because I know I don’t want to go down that rabbit hole in my brain, I hang the towels. I also take a second to check the water pressure and make sure it heats up for her properly. Nothing is worse than showering in a cold, weak spray of water.
Since I know there’s a strong possibility that my daughter has talked Willa into doing something she knows I wouldn’t approve of, I hurry back home.
I find the girls sitting side by side while Izzy eats and tells Willa the story behind the picture she just drew.
When my eyes meet Willa’s, she smiles and slides off the stool.
“Your dinner is on warm in the air fryer.”
“Thank you.” Our arms brush as I step by her and into the kitchen. A spark travels along my skin at the contact. “I took everything next door for you.” Her eyes are on my feet when I turn to her.
“Cute Crocs.” She gives me a playful wink.
“They were a gift from Izzy. She told me last year that I don’t have enough pink and purple in my wardrobe.”
“And color has no gender,” Izzy adds with a carrot in her mouth.
“Hell yeah,” Willa says as she holds out a fist for Izzy to bump.
“That’s a dollar for the swear jar.” Izzy’s fist meets Willa’s.
“Bug, we don’t make guests pay the swear jar.”
Willa holds up a hand. “I can swing a dollar.” Her attention turns back to Izzy. “But I don’t have any on me. Can I give it to you next time? Also, why is it twenty for him and only one for me?”
“Severity of the swear word,” I answer.
“Gotcha.” She walks backward. “Thanks again. I’ll let you know what the garage says when they call me back. I left my number on the notepad next to Izzy.”
“Thank you.”
I watch her as she walks out, listening for the sound of her front door opening and closing before I start to plate my own dinner. Izzy starts talking about a show she wants to watch, and I turn my attention from the gorgeous blonde sleeping next door to me back to where it belongs. My daughter.