Chapter 3
CAM
Natascha, my ex, didn’t just arrive; she made an entrance, usually announced by the expensive purr of an engine and the slam of car doors. I dragged the front door open, bracing myself.
“Daddy!”
Alice hit my legs like a tiny linebacker, wrapping her arms around my knees and squeezing until, I swear, I lost feeling in my legs. I chuckled, prying her off so I could hoist her into my arms.
“Hey, monster.”
Then there was Audrey.
My seven-year-old wasn’t launching herself at anyone. She stood on the doormat, looking like a thirty-year-old executive assistant.
“Hey, Aud.” I reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Did you have fun with Mommy?”
“We went to a photo shoot.” Audrey’s tone was carefully neutral, the way it always was when she was trying not to complain about something she knew would start a fight.
My jaw tightened, but I kept my expression easy. “Yeah? That sounds fun.”
Audrey’s look told me exactly how much fun it had been.
“They were absolute angels.”
I looked up. Natascha hovered on the bottom step, looking like she’d just walked out from behind a ring light. Perfect blonde waves, oversized sunglasses pushed up on her head, and lips that I was pretty sure had grown a size since last Friday.
Her smile was tight. “Though someone refused to wear the matching outfit I brought.”
Audrey’s chin went up. “I don’t like pink.”
“It would have looked adorable for the spring collection photos.”
I set Alice down and straightened, meeting Natascha’s eyes. “They’re not models, Nat.”
“Natascha.” The correction was automatic, sharp. She’d been doing this for three years now, ever since the rebrand. When I’d married her, she’d been Natasha. Regular spelling. Regular everything. “And they could be. The photographer said Alice has perfect bone structure.”
“She’s five.”
“It’s never too early to start building their portfolios.” She pulled out her phone, already swiping. “Look, I’ll send you the shots. They’re gorgeous. Alice’s engagement numbers were through the roof last time.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “Thanks for dropping them off.”
Her eyes flicked up from her phone, and something flared across her face. Annoyance, maybe. Or hurt. Hard to tell anymore. “Of course.” She leaned down and air-kissed both girls, careful not to smudge whatever was on her lips. “Mommy loves you. I’ll see you next week.”
“Bye, Mommy,” they chorused.
I ushered the girls inside and closed the door, letting out a breath.
Alice tugged on my hand. “Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”
“We had mac and cheese yesterday,” Audrey pointed out, already heading for the stairs to drop her overnight bag.
“So?”
“So, we can’t have it every day.”
“Why not?”
Audrey paused on the third step, turning with all the authority of a seven-year-old who knew she was right. “Because you’ll turn into a noodle.”
Alice’s face scrunched up as she considered this. “I don’t want to be a noodle.”
“Yes, you do! Noodles are delicious!”
“But then someone might eat me!”
I could see this spiraling. Time to deploy a distraction. “Before we think about dinner, I’ve got something to show you.”
Both girls perked up immediately. “What kind of something?” Audrey asked, abandoning her bag on the stairs.
“You’ll see. Come on.”
I led them through the house and out the back door. The moment we stepped onto the deck and they saw the trampoline, they both gasped.
“Is that...” Audrey’s voice had gone high and breathless. “Is that ours?”
“What do you think?”
They stood frozen for maybe two seconds, eyes huge. Then they were running, their delighted shrieks splitting the quiet of the yard. Audrey reached it first, immediately dropping down to yank off her shoes. Alice struggled with her Velcro straps, fingers fumbling.
“Here.” Audrey knelt beside her sister, helping with the straps. “You gotta pull this part first.”
Then they were both climbing on, the springs creaking under their weight. Light, careful bounces at first, testing it out. Then bigger ones as they gained confidence, holding hands and giggling when they went off rhythm and bumped into each other.
“Be careful,” I called, but I was already grinning. This was worth it. Worth wrestling with that damn frame all afternoon in the heat. Worth the sore shoulders and the frustration and the rust on the gate that had fought me.
Worth Emily’s help.
The thought popped up uninvited, and I shoved it away. Not going there.
“Daddy, come jump with us!” Alice shouted, already attempting a spin that sent her stumbling sideways into Audrey.
“In a minute. Let me make sure it’s safe first.”
I glanced toward Emily’s house without meaning to. The back door was closed, no sign of her in those big sunroom windows. The gate between our yards was shut again, that rusty bolt back in place.
Good. Last thing I needed was another interaction when I was still trying to forget the earlier one had felt. The way she’d smelled when she’d leaned in close. Something light and clean that I had no business noticing.
I wasn’t noticing. I wasn’t thinking about it.
Except apparently I was, because my brain kept circling back to it like a dog with a bone it couldn’t bury.
The way she’d flexed her hands after we’d finished with the springs, fingers cramping from the work.
How she’d recognized my company name and then immediately backed off when she’d seen I didn’t want to talk about it.
The sound of her laugh when she’d walked back to her place.
Why the fuck was I thinking about all this?
“Daddy!” Alice’s voice yanked my attention back. “Watch this!”
She attempted her own seat drop, mostly just falling on her butt and bouncing sideways. “Did you see?”
“I saw. Very impressive.”
“Come jump!”
I kicked off my shoes and climbed on, the whole thing dipping significantly under my weight. Both girls immediately tried to bounce me; their combined efforts barely moved me an inch. They shrieked with laughter anyway, jumping harder, faces red with effort.
“You’re too heavy!” Audrey declared, bouncing frantically.
“Or you’re too light.” I did a small controlled jump that sent both of them tumbling safely onto their backs, giggles exploding out of them.
We stayed out there until the sun dipped low, playing a game the girls had invented. It was a complex story about being astronauts that required very specific types of jumping to travel between planets.
“Okay, space explorers.” I finally climbed off, my knees reminding me I wasn’t twenty anymore. “Time for dinner.”
“Five more minutes?” Alice pleaded, still running around the edge of the mat.
“You said that five minutes ago.”
“Five more real minutes?”
“Nice try. Come on.”
They climbed down reluctantly, both of them messy and sweaty and completely happy. The kind of happy that came from just being kids. No cameras, no poses, no performing for an audience they didn’t even understand.
This right here was what mattered.
As we headed inside, my eyes drifted toward Emily’s house again. Her sunroom light was on now, warm and golden in the growing dusk.
I forced myself to look away. She was just my neighbor. A neighbor who’d helped me with the trampoline because I’d helped her with her tire. We were even. That was it.
“So,” I said, holding the door open and ushering them inside. “Who wants mac and cheese?”
“ME!” Alice shouted, already running for the kitchen.
Audrey rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “We should have veggies with it.”
“When did you become the responsible one?”
She shrugged, so much older than seven sometimes. “Well, you gotta think about these things.”
I tugged her ponytail gently. “That’s my job, monster.”
“Then can we have ice cream for dessert?”
Giving her a narrow-eyed look, I said, “I see what you did there.”
But I’d probably give in. Seeing them this happy, on their trampoline without a camera in sight? Yeah, they could have all the ice cream they wanted.