CHAPTER TEN
Ronnie’s voice startles me out of my creative headspace. “What’re you doing?”
“Sweet Jeeee-pers!”
I drop the permanent marker onto the tile. It leaves a long black line that’s probably not coming out. My lips curl into a grin. Works for me.
The little girl scoots closer, reminding me that her impromptu nap is over and she’s waiting for an answer.
I reclaim the fallen Sharpie. “Just doing some… uh, coloring.”
“On my daddy’s boots?” She plops down beside me in the entryway.
“Yep.” My limited artistic abilities get busy doodling a heart.
Ronnie leans over to inspect my design so far. “Why?”
“They’re a bit boring.” I hold up the left Tecovas that’s still untouched. “Wanted to make them fancy.”
But that’s a lie. This is just a petty way to take a stab at Byron. These are the only boots I’ve seen him wear. I’m sure the leather is broken in just right. Now he’ll have to walk around with my handiwork on his feet.
“Can I help?”
My hand pauses at the innocent question. “Ummm…”
“Pretty pleeeeaaaase? I’m gonna make Daddy’s boots super prettiful. Promise!”
It’s impossible to deny her, especially when she sticks out her bottom lip and whines. The wounded puppy look spreads to her eyes to secure my undoing.
I pass her a metallic silver marker. It’s bright and extra obnoxious against the supple leather. If I’m going to land myself in hot water for this, we might as well make a big splash together. Ronnie snatches the unblemished left boot and settles in for destruction.
While putting a massive stick figure front and center, she glances over at the block letters I’m writing across the top of the other one. “What’s that say?”
“Frankie wins,” I chirp.
“Wins what?”
There’s a brief hesitation from me, filled with plausible explanations. “I win bragging rights for coloring this boot.”
“Oooooh,” she croons. “Do I win too?”
“Of course, kiddo. Want me to write it for you?”
“Uh-huh. Put it here.” She drags her finger along the side.
“Perfect spot. Everyone will see it.” I grip onto the sole and get started. “The letters are just outlines. You can fill them in when I’m done.”
Ronnie watches me write her name in huge font. “This is soooo cool. It’s like tattoos for Daddy’s boots.”
“Let’s hope our designs don’t wash away.”
The little girl frowns. “They gotta stay forever.”
“I’m sure they will. If not, we can redo them.”
Ronnie gasps and sits up straight. “Will you draw on me next?”
“Ummm…” I glance at her flawless skin. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We should ask your dad.” Wrecking his boots is bad enough. I don’t need to kick the hornet’s nest.
Ronnie’s gaze shifts to the ink decorating my arms. “Okay, fine. But I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”
My stomach clenches and I almost drop my marker again. “No, sweetie. I’m a hot mess express. You don’t want a seat on the train. Toot, toot.” I laugh when she stares blankly at me. “But I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
She sighs and it’s a pleased sound. Her tongue pokes out from the corner of her mouth as she gets back to coloring Byron’s boot. I’m about to do the same when her voice stops me cold.
“Is this what it’s like to have a mommy? My heart is smiling.”
Mine stutters as I gawk at her. My mouth opens and closes uselessly. Words fail me for several seconds and then the truth spills free.
“I’m not sure, kiddo. My mom has never been around.”
Her wide eyes lock onto me while she absorbs this similarity that’s shared between us. Except… our situations couldn’t be more different.
I’d bet the Benson fortune that Ronnie’s mother would give anything to be here with her today.
Mine abandoned me at her first opportunity.
She ditched me at my sperm donor’s doorstep.
He wasn’t much better. At least he had the decency to drop me off at his brother’s compound.
James Keller wasn’t much of a father figure, but he kept me alive.
That’s where I met Walker and the rest of my dysfunctional family.
Ronnie is looking at me expectantly. That silent plea does something to me. I have the sudden urge to hug this precious child, to shield her from the ugliness that threatens to dull the brightest sparkle. She deserves nothing but sunshine and rainbows.
As I return her unwavering focus, I realize we’re bonded at a depth I can’t fully comprehend yet.
“We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?”
Ronnie tips her head, mulling that over. Her tiny shoulders bounce after a moment. “Okay.”
And then she resumes the task of decorating her dad’s boot as if my foundation hasn’t just been cracked to its core. If she wants to accept me into her inner circle, I’m not going to stop her. But my fingers shake while I try to act normal.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been drawing in concentrated silence when heavy footsteps boom from down the hall. It’s enough time to resurrect my initial purpose. Is it immature? Yes. Did that stop me? No. As I add the final touches, devious delight tugs my lips skyward until I resemble a clown.
“Ronnie?” Byron’s voice echoes from where he’s been holed up in his office.
“Over here, Daddy!” Her giggle should set off several alarm bells. But just in case, she adds, “We have a surprise for you.”
Her father halts in his tracks once he gets a good look at what we’ve done.
His perfect angel launches to her feet, thrusting the doodled Tecovas at him like a proud artist. “Look, Daddy! We made your boots prettiful. Do you love it?”
Byron just stands there like a statue I can shamelessly admire. What can I say? The grumpy cowboy is hot, especially when he’s not talking.
“Uhhh,” he finally utters. “That’s… really something.”
“Try them on!” Ronnie grabs the other boot from me, putting them both in front of her dad.
When Byron comprehends what I wrote, his shock tightens into a glare aimed directly at my waiting grin. “Real cute.”
I get on my feet to eliminate his power position, but he still towers over me. “The big bow stretching across the back might be my favorite part.”
“Oh, oh!” Ronnie points at a pair of adorable blobs she made. “That’s Darla and Dottie. They’re chasing squirrels. Such silly pups.”
“Uh-huh, very silly.” Byron slips on the boots like the devoted father he is. “Better than ever.”
His little girl squeals and latches onto him for a giddy squeeze. Her tiny index finger traces a line down his nose, swooping off the tip and landing for a tap on his chin. Byron does the same to her in return. It appears to be a meaningful gesture I don’t understand and now isn’t the time to pry.
Ronnie claps her palms against her dad’s cheeks, giving him an exuberant shake. “I knew you’d like them!”
“How could I not? You made them special for me.” Byron hugs her until she wiggles free. “Was this your idea, cupcake?”
“Nope! Frankie was coloring while I was sleepin’ on the couch and then I woke up and asked if I could help.”
When Byron straightens, his wrath pins me in place. “Do you think this is funny?”
“Obviously,” I deadpan.
“I didn’t hire you to be a bad influence on my daughter.”
“Shouldn’t have hired me then.”
When Ronnie twirls out of earshot, Byron dips down to growl at me. “You’re gonna pay for this, little menace.”
I arch a brow. “Take it out of my check. I’m still getting paid, right?”
He seethes, but straightens when his little girl is within listening range again. “Are you complaining about money?”
“Asks the person who’s never had to worry about it,” I mutter.
Byron slips a credit card from his wallet. “Use that for whatever you need.”
I pluck the sleek plastic from between his fingers. “You trust me not to go over your limit?”
“I dare you to try reaching it.”
The narrowing of my eyes accepts his challenge. “Careful, stud. If you mess with the viper, she’ll bite.”
“Do your worst,” he taunts. His gaze drops to his boots and a smirk slants his lips. “It’s adorable when you try.”
“Daddy! Guess what?” Ronnie pulls at his sleeve, done being on the sidelines. “Frannie is gonna give me lotsa tattoos. Just like you and her. I’m gonna have pictures on my skin too!”
If looks could kill, Byron would bury me alive in the back forty.
But I ignore the death threat by inspecting the sharp points of my matte black nails. “Adorable, right?”