Chapter Ten ZOE
Chapter Ten
Z OE
Living next door to Liam was easy. For about a week. Mainly because I hardly ever had to talk to him.
He watched Mira three times. Once so that I could do an online meeting with a client. Once so I could run errands without interrupting naptime. And once because she basically demanded to go hang out with him.
“You want to?” I asked her one day.
Mira nodded emphatically. “Bye, Zoe. I go see him.”
And she marched through the connecting gate, juice box in hand, to join him on the back deck, where he was assembling a new grill. While I watched curiously, she clambered up onto a chair, kicking her legs happily as he glanced over his shoulder to verify that I knew she was there.
He arched an eyebrow.
If he were anyone else, someone I was friends with, I might have responded with a confused shrug. But because he was Liam, I arched an eyebrow right back.
Liam set his jaw, then turned back to his assemblage, his mouth moving as he said something to Mira. She giggled.
“Huh,” I said under my breath.
“I’m bringing the girls here for our next book club,” Rosa said. “Martha’s heart may not be able to take it, but it’s worth the risk.”
I refused to ask.
Refused.
But because I wasn’t rude, I made a polite humming sound.
Then I stopped, because damn it, that sounded like his humming sound, and now I couldn’t help but think about all the times he used it instead of answering.
Was he actually trying to be polite in those moments?
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.
Rosa ignored me. “You need to join us some night. It’ll do you some good.”
“I know, I know.” I gestured toward the house, the stacks of folders atop my laptop, the toys littering the family room, the dinner mess covering the island. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“Did you read the last one I told you about?” she asked. “The one about the pool boy? Goodness, it was spicy.”
A laugh escaped under my breath. “I didn’t get to it, no. My reading time has been nonexistent. It was hard enough to get through tax season.”
“The curse of people who deal with the numbers,” she said, going up on tiptoe.
Her attention never wavered, and I damn well knew why she wanted her book club friends over here. I gritted my teeth and kept my focus on the pizza dough in front of me, thank you very much.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch this?”
Her ass was perched in front of the slider overlooking my backyard and, consequently, the pool in Chris and Amie’s backyard.
When Denver had decided to usher in May with a hot spell, Liam took it upon himself to open up Chris and Amie’s pool.
“Positive,” I told her. “I see enough of Liam now to last me the rest of eternity .” I said the last word with a particularly vicious slap of the pizza dough onto the island. “I don’t need to gawk while he’s doing perfectly normal things.”
Rosa glanced over at the dough, one eyebrow arched. “Easy, dear. The dough hasn’t earned your vitriol.”
With a sigh, I plopped the ball back into its bowl and laid a towel over top so it could rest. “I know.”
“And I don’t care how much you see him. His arms,” she mused. “They should be illegal.”
They should . My face felt suspiciously warm when the agreement registered in my brain, which was why I gave her an annoyed look. She couldn’t even appreciate it because she’d already turned back to the slider, going up on tiptoe to watch whatever his cranky ass was doing.
My vitriol, she’d said.
In the last few days, as one week turned the corner into two, I wasn’t even sure what word I could use to encapsulate what I felt toward Liam.
Rosa now came over just to hang out, because I didn’t need her babysitting help as much. To hang out ... and shamelessly stare at Liam, by the looks of it.
I pushed the bowl of pizza dough to the center of the island. “Don’t you have something better to do?” I asked her.
“In a minute I will, I’m sure.” She angled her head. “Besides, now that I’m in my dating phase again, allow me to harmlessly gaze upon someone who is a perfect specimen of what I’d be looking for.”
I snorted. “He is way too young for you, and your dating phase is a train wreck, Rosa.”
She sighed, moving away from the slider. “Because they’re all idiots. The last guy—who seemed nice enough when we met for coffee—asked if I’d consider getting implants. On our second date.”
My nose wrinkled.
Rosa nodded. “He was a plastic surgeon.”
“Ah.” I took a sip of my water, enjoying the quiet of the house while Mira took her afternoon nap. Because I knew as soon as she woke, she’d start making her demands.
“I go see him,” she’d say on her way down the stairs, tucking her stuffed duck under her arm and marching toward the slider.
Liam was now a daily fixture instead of an as-needed presence, and I was desperately trying to get used to that.
“The thing I don’t understand is why kids like him so much,” I told Rosa. “Mira is obsessed with Liam, and it makes no sense. He’s so rude all the time. I’ve never seen him pick her up. But she always wants to be over there.”
“A problem you can’t solve with a simple equation,” Rosa said absently.
My eyebrows rose in concession. “I suppose not. Maybe that’s why I’m constantly trying to figure it—him—out. I can’t handle it when the rows and columns don’t add up.”
Rosa snagged a piece of cubed watermelon from the bowl in front of her and nibbled thoughtfully. “You don’t think it’s because he’s a big, strong guy like her dad? Now that he’s next door, it’s a pretty convenient substitute.” She held my gaze. “You know I’m not saying that to be thoughtless.”
“I know,” I assured her. “And, no, I don’t think that’s it. A couple of the guys from the team have stopped by with their wives, bringing us food, checking up on us, and even though she knows them, she’s never acted the way she does with Liam.”
Because I couldn’t help myself, I wandered just a bit closer to the slider. He was crouched down, making sure the hose from the vacuum thingy wasn’t getting tangled while it cleaned the bottom of the pool.
All week, I’d caught glimpses of him working on the pool. The yard. The landscaping. Trimming tree branches and pulling weeds. Mowing the grass and spreading new mulch in the flower beds.
When he wasn’t at the facilities, Liam was constantly doing something.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him relax.
Most mornings, I’d just be finishing my coffee when he returned to the house after a run, his shirt soaked in sweat and his chest heaving.
Not that I’d noticed.
But I couldn’t deny the warmth that bubbled under my chest when I saw how well he was taking care of the house. How he was making it look like a home again.
“Talk to him much this week?” Rosa asked.
“Not really. Just in passing when Mira goes over, and when she does, it’s always about her.”
“I still can’t believe you’re passing her back and forth between the houses like this. Wouldn’t it be easier to just be under one roof?”
Oh, sure. So much easier.
Living next door to Liam was hard enough.
“If that man were my roommate, I’d end up in jail.”
Rosa laughed.
“I’m serious,” I told her. “He’s the most aggravating person I’ve ever met in my life. I’m nice , Rosa. I’m nice to everyone. But the second I’m in the same room as him, it’s like I’m a different person.”
Rosa hummed thoughtfully but didn’t say anything.
Her silence made me very twitchy.
“He still holds himself back from Mira,” I continued. “I can see it plain as day.”
“It’s been less than two weeks since he started helping,” she pointed out. “Give him a little time.”
“I know. That’s also why she’s not sleeping over there unless I’m actually gone.” I tugged at the ponytail holder keeping my hair back. “I think she likes sleeping there, but ...” My voice trailed off for a moment. “If she wakes up with a nightmare or something, I can just about imagine how he’d react. He’d pat her on the head and tell her to go the fuck back to sleep or something.”
Rosa laughed. “He can’t be that bad.”
“He sure can. The day she was born, he patted her on the head and said, ‘There, there, you can stop now.’”
Her laughter increased, and it was enough to have me cracking a smile. If nothing else, at least Liam was consistent.
The man in question stood up, and the motion caught my eye.
My head angled to the side when he stretched his arms high. The hem of his black shirt rode up, and I caught a glimpse of his hard stomach and a thin line of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. His gaze snapped over to mine, and I immediately backed away from the slider, my heart thumping just a little bit harder.
Exactly what I didn’t need—that jerk catching me ogling.
Rosa smothered her smile, and I glared. “Not funny.”
She waved it away. “A little funny. Or it’s inevitable, at least. Two attractive, single people thrust into a situation where they can’t escape each other.”
“I do not appreciate your emphasis on the thrusting. There’s no thrusting happening anywhere in this situation, believe me.” I peeked at the dough with as much nonchalance as I could muster. “Zero thrusting since my divorce, actually.”
Rosa whistled. “Long time, sweet cheeks.”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“And you’ve never missed it?” Rosa looked highly skeptical.
“Put that eyebrow down,” I told her. “It’s so judgy.”
She laughed.
Somehow, I managed a swallow as I untangled the knot of my thoughts.
“My whole life, I’ve wanted the fairy tale, right? My mom always teased me about being the math girl who loved her love stories, but they’re similar to me. Math is predictable; it has rules and structure and known outcomes, as long as you plug everything in correctly. And while I hate using the word predictable to describe the books I love to read—it sounds too inherently negative—there is comfort in knowing that these two people are perfectly matched in their flaws and that they’ll cherish and respect and fight for each other and come out the other side with a happily-ever-after.”
“There is,” Rosa agreed.
“I miss feeling like that’s possible for me,” I said quietly. “That someone will sweep me off my feet because he can’t help himself. Because I’m just exactly what he is looking for.”
Rosa was quiet for a few moments, studying my face before she spoke. “Why doesn’t it feel possible?”
“Less possible,” I amended. “So much harder now, because Mira’s my priority.”
Rosa hummed.
“And maybe I’ve changed too much in the last ten years. Maybe I don’t even know what I want anymore.”
“Definitely not a grumpy Brit,” she said lightly.
“Definitely not. I don’t care what his arms look like.”
She hummed anew.
“Stop it,” I told her. “He can hardly stand being in the same room as me.”
Rosa arched that eyebrow again.
Naturally, it made me nervous enough that I kept babbling. “Besides, Liam has been single for as long as I’ve known him. And I’ve been divorced from Charles for well over two years now. Almost three.”
I used to keep track of the days, because every single one by myself felt like freedom. But now I simply enjoyed living my life, because I didn’t have a pretentious douchebag living under the same roof.
Every single day that passed meant healing. Discovering the parts of myself that I’d lost or ignored during that marriage because it was easier to try to keep the peace.
But that’s the insidious thing about “keeping the peace.” It sounds like such a simple phrase, with such good intentions, but it hides the slow erosion that eats away at your soul when you do it for too long.
And, sure, now I had a rude, grumpy one living next door, but as much as I couldn’t explain it, none of the things Liam had ever said to me had actually left a wound.
There was no peace when that man was around, and there never had been.
Definitely no erosion of the soul, because half the time when we were in the same room, he pissed me off so much that I felt like my eyeballs could shoot fire.
If I dared give that feeling a word, which I wouldn’t, it was almost ... exhilarating .
But I didn’t label the feeling, because it didn’t make sense, and I hated things that didn’t make sense.
For a while after I left Charles, a part of me wondered if Liam would treat me differently. If he’d be nicer. If our bickering would take a dissimilar tone.
It never did.
And that, to my mind, was my answer. We’d carry on through infinity in the same way we always had—with eye-rolling, last names being tossed around like grenades, and his annoying little humming noise that made me want to inflict bodily damage.
That being said, I still had perfectly functioning eyesight. There was no escaping how the pieces of him unfortunately came together in one really attractive package.
Unfortunate because the moment he opened his stupid mouth, he ruined it.
“Your point?” Rosa asked.
“My point is that this situation doesn’t change anything between us. It simply changes the amount we see each other. Liam has never once shown any interest in me, and I like my men ... nicer.”
“No, you don’t.”
I made an affronted sound. “Yes, I do.”
“Charles wasn’t all that nice. The only reason Chris and Amie were so kind to him was because they loved you and they thought you saw something in him they hadn’t yet.”
There was no arguing that point because I already knew it to be true. By the time I met Chris and Amie, I was already a package deal with Charles. Amie didn’t tell me what she really thought about him until the first few years of our marriage had passed and she could see the unhappiness written across my face as if tattooed there.
“He was nice at first,” I corrected quietly. “He was charming and funny and gregarious. And so handsome. He’d walk the halls of that hospital in his three-piece suits when he’d come for board meetings, and everyone wanted to be noticed by him.”
Rosa’s eyes were sad.
I toyed with the edge of the towel. “I was the quiet girl in accounting, Rosa. It’s not like I minded, but I was never the woman who attracted the guys like him. Not in high school or college. And it didn’t break my heart or anything. I didn’t like myself less because of it. Dating the sweet, quiet men suited me just fine.” I shook my head. “I don’t know why I’m talking about Charles now.”
“Our past dictates how we move through our future, honey,” she said.
Didn’t I know it?
The sigh that escaped my lips was heavy, laden with all the complications that currently dictated my future.
“I still like nice guys, though,” I told her. “No matter what Charles turned out to be.”
“Liam’s getting a little bit nicer,” Rosa added.
I held my thumb and forefinger apart by a scant inch. “Microscopic.”
“I should go,” Rosa said. “I have another date tonight.”
“Send me his profile, in case you go missing.”
She rolled her eyes. “You watch too much Dateline , young lady.”
“Maybe,” I conceded. “But I’ve also never been kidnapped, so ...”
Rosa wrapped me in a quick hug. “He won’t kidnap me. We’re meeting at Union Station for drinks, so there will be a million people around.”
As she tucked her cell phone into her pocket, I couldn’t help but marvel.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t know if I’d have the energy to date if I were you. I’m in my early thirties, and I’m too exhausted to consider it.”
She tapped the edge of my nose. “You were considering it, though, before Mira. The last one was nice.”
I sighed. He was.
Tyler was sweet and quiet. I’d known him for years at work. Every time my computer needed fixing or some piece of tech equipment copped an attitude, he was the one who came to the rescue. Which he did with a friendly smile and kind eyes.
I didn’t blame him for not wanting to pursue our relationship in the wake of the accident. Hell, it was my life, and sometimes I wanted to hit the pause button on all this change too.
“Maybe he was too nice,” she added quietly. Then she winked and left.
I laid my head down on my folded arms and sighed. After a few moments, the telltale sounds of Mira climbing from her crib filtered downstairs.
Then I heard the soft thump of her feet on the steps.
“I go see him, Zoe!” she declared.
Her hair was a matted mess, and the duck was getting dragged across the floor.
I gathered her up into my arms for a hug, and she laid her head on my shoulder while we snuggled. But after a quick moment, she wiggled to get down.
“Want me to walk you?” I asked.
“No, I do it.”
And she was off.
I stood at the slider while Mira skipped over the pathway and into Chris and Amie’s backyard. With his cell phone pressed to his ear, Liam was standing by their own sliding door, and he glanced up when she yanked it open.
He gave me a slight nod.
The proverbial passing of the torch.
Or child, as it were.
Mira would be back for dinner. She always was. I stepped away from the door, out of Liam’s line of vision, and ignored that it was easier to breathe when I couldn’t see him.
Three days later, neck-deep in end-of-the-quarter bookwork, I took a quick glance at my phone screen.
Nothing.
I rubbed my tired eyes, which were bone dry from staring at my computer screen for the last couple of hours. My neck was tight and achy, and my attempt to roll out any of the tension was met with stubborn resistance by my rock-hard muscles.
From where I sat at the kitchen table, I couldn’t see into the backyard next door, but Mira had been over there for a few hours.
I blew out a slow breath and stood, stretching my arms over my head with a groan.
There was no sign of either of them by the pool or patio. I started picking at my thumbnail without even realizing I was doing it.
What did they do over there every afternoon?
With a frustrated huff, I picked up my phone and tapped out a text.
Me: How’s it going? I’m done with my work if you want to send her back.
Liam: We’re watching SportsCenter and drinking beer. I might show her how to properly light a cigar next.
Me: I sincerely hope you can hear me rolling my eyes from here.
Liam: Oddly enough, I can.
Liam: Fine. She found weird magnet block things in the playroom, and we’ve been building a fucking epic castle.
Then he attached a picture, and my heart went all warm and gooey.
Mira had her tongue tucked between her front teeth, her face the picture of concentration as she set a bright-red tile on top of a tower.
Playing with blocks on a beautiful summer afternoon.
The man didn’t deserve a gold medal for doing something so simple, but every ounce of his being had rejected the idea of being involved with Mira. And despite that hefty reserve, he was taking care of her well, from what I could see.
I smiled and told him to let me know if I needed to come get her, then set my phone down to go take a shower while the house was quiet.
I’d just stepped out of the steaming bathroom with my hair wrapped in a towel and a moisturizing mask coating my face when the doorbell app on my phone chimed.
“Shit,” I whispered, swiping over to see who it was.
When the picture came up, I burst into laughter.
Rosa stood front and center, holding a giant bottle of wine. Behind her stood two other silver-haired women—one with a cane and the other with a plate of food in her hand.
Looked like the book club ladies were ready for their first glimpse of Liam after all.
I pressed the button. “Door’s unlocked, but I just got out of the shower, so I’ll be down in a couple minutes.”
“Take your time. Martha wants to watch the neighbor for a bit,” Rosa said.
With a shake of my head, I discarded the mask into the trash and massaged in the remaining serum. I squeezed the excess moisture out of my hair and added some curling lotion, then tugged on my favorite joggers and a soft T-shirt over my simple bralette. The pants hung low on my hips, and the crop of the shirt left a stretch of my stomach bare.
When I got downstairs and turned the corner into the kitchen, I exhaled a quiet laugh.
All three women were staring out the slider.
“I thought you were kidding,” I told her.
Rosa turned with a sly grin on her face. “About this? Never.” She motioned to her friends. “Martha, Phyllis, this is Zoe.”
Martha came forward, enveloping me in a tight squeeze. She smelled like roses, and her birdlike frame was shockingly strong. “Honey, we’ve heard so much about you.”
I smiled. “Likewise.”
Phyllis winked. “You’ve been reading half these books with us, according to Rosa. You might as well get the pleasure of our company too.”
Warmth settled sweetly into my bones, even though being around them made me miss my mom. “I’m glad you came over,” I told them. “I wasn’t prepared to host, though. I don’t have much food to offer, and there are toys everywhere.”
Martha waved it off. “Don’t you fret. Phyllis is a slob, so we’re used to it.”
“I am not,” Phyllis argued.
Rosa smiled at her friends. “Come on, girls, let’s pour some wine and sit out on her deck. If we’re lucky, he’ll show up right when we get to the part where the hero uses handcuffs on her for the first time.”
Two hours later, I knew unequivocally that I was never skipping book club again.
“Phyllis,” I gasped, “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in most countries.”
She shrugged. “Never stopped us. My husband was an active man,” she said meaningfully. “God rest his soul.”
Martha cackled into her wineglass and flipped her Kindle case open. “That was a good one, ladies. I feel bad for whoever has to pick our next read.”
Rosa raised her hand. “That would be me. But don’t worry, I’ve got a great choice. No handcuffs or pool boys, but you’ll love it.”
“Probably good,” Martha said. “My grandson was over the other day, and he asked what I was reading.”
I tugged a blanket up over my legs and laughed. “Did you lie?”
“Hell no,” she said. “I’m not ashamed of what I’m reading, but that doesn’t mean he needs an early education either, you know what I mean?”
Liam’s slider next door opened up, and an expectant hush fell over the group.
When his tall, muscular body appeared on the back patio, Martha sighed happily.
Somehow, I managed to stifle the eye roll. “He’s not that good-looking,” I mumbled.
Phyllis snorted. “You’re so full of shit it’s a miracle your eyes aren’t brown.”
Okay, fine, as he strode toward my side of the yard, the hard line of his jaw and his chiseled features caught the fading light in a fairly pleasant way.
And his shirt stretched across his chest rather nicely.
He was just so manly that it was almost unfair. There was a nice amount of dark hair on his arms, which meant he’d likely have a smattering of it over his broad chest.
My throat went tight because the image cemented itself very quickly in my thrust-free brain.
Martha coughed pointedly, and I realized I was staring.
At the sound, Liam’s head snapped up, and he froze in between our yards. “Oh bloody hell,” he muttered. “There’s so many of you.”
Phyllis sat back in her seat. “You must be Liam.”
He exhaled heavily, eyes lingering on mine while I tried not to laugh. “I’m not admitting to shit because you lot look like trouble.”
The laugh burst free; there was no stopping it.
His jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath, like he was bracing for something.
“What is it?” I asked.
“She fell asleep on the floor of her bedroom up there.”
“Ah.”
Rosa gave me a questioning look. “Should we ...?”
“Yeah, I need to get her into bed anyway.”
The trio stood, complaining of various aches and pains as they did.
“At least your bunion isn’t as big as mine,” Martha said.
Liam pinched the bridge of his nose.
Phyllis peered over the rim of her glasses in his direction. “Be nice to our friend, young man. You might be a football player, but I could shove this cane where the sun don’t shine without blinking.”
He dropped his hand, gaping at her when she gave him a knowing look.
“My God,” he breathed.
I exhaled a laugh. “Nice to know someone’s still looking out for me,” I said.
It was meant to be a breezy statement, but it fell with the weight of a stone into my stomach.
Liam’s gaze tracked briefly down to the waistband of my pants, returning heavily to my face when I passed, and I wished I could take back what I’d said. What I’d worn. Just ... everything.
We walked in silence into the house, and having his big, looming presence behind me as we went up the stairs was more disconcerting than I would’ve liked.
The cropped shirt and low-hanging joggers made me feel a bit ... exposed.
When I cleared the landing of the stairs, I allowed myself a brief glimpse into Chris and Amie’s empty bedroom across the hall.
“You’re sleeping downstairs?” I asked him.
He hummed.
“I’ll take that as a yes, but feel free to use a full sentence next time,” I said.
Mira was sprawled out on the floor, using her duck as a pillow, and a gentle snoring sound came from her button nose.
I had a fleeting thought that she’d done this on purpose, just to see if she could get away with sleeping in the house.
I glanced at Liam. His back was against the wall, his hands tucked into his jogger pockets.
“Why didn’t you carry her over?” I asked.
He glanced down at the floor. “Wasn’t sure what you’d want to do.”
It felt like a cop-out. A flimsy one too. But I decided not to press.
Mira was warm and sleepy and sweet when I gently pulled her into my arms, even though my muscles quivered from picking up her full deadweight.
I kissed her forehead as she snuggled into me. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”
“I not sleepy,” she mumbled.
Everything inside me trembled under the weight of how much I loved her, and as I glanced outside the room to where Liam watched us with guarded eyes, I tried to remember what Rosa had said.
He was trying.
And for now, it was enough.
“I stay here.”
Behind me, I could practically feel Liam’s long-suffering sigh.
I crouched low. “Mira, honey, I know it was nice taking your nap here today while I got some work done, but you sleep at my house, remember?”
The storm brewed ominously in her eyes, and when she set her jaw, crossed her arms over her body, and plopped down onto the floor in front of the crib, I knew I’d have to bodily remove her before she’d concede.
“It’s my fault,” Liam said. “I’m too bloody likable.”
If he’d ever made a comment I was bound to ignore, it was that one. “Come on, Mirabelle, let’s go back to my place. We’ll have a picnic dinner in the family room.”
“No picnic. I stay here.”
I held her gaze for a few moments longer, then sighed.
Instead of getting into an epic battle of wills with an almost three-year-old, I stood up and walked out of the room, then down the steps. Liam murmured something to Mira that I couldn’t understand, and then he followed behind me.
When he entered the kitchen, I was sitting at the island with my hands speared through my hair. “This is new,” I said.
He grunted.
Then . . . nothing.
Another season of change was near. I could feel it. Right before the bucket filled and those millions of drops of water spilled over the edge.
The problem was, I didn’t know how to logic my way through this problem. Didn’t know the formula to use to make it line up at the end. There were too many variables, too many unknowns.
“I don’t know how to navigate this,” I said quietly. The words hurt coming out, just a little, because I couldn’t help but brace for him to weaponize them against me.
But in true Liam style, he didn’t say a damn word. Lifting my head, I pinned him with a long look. “Nothing? No commentary? You’re usually brimming with helpful suggestions about how I’m doing this wrong.”
“Nothing for me to say, Valentine. She’s obsessed with me and wants to be here more. I told you that kids have shit taste sometimes.”
He leaned up against the counter, and I took a moment to study him. There was a lightning-quick sort of tension in his eyes, there one moment and gone the next.
“What?” he barked.
“I’m trying to figure you out,” I admitted. “It’s not working.”
He snorted. “Nothing to figure out. I’m an open book.”
That had me laughing. Hard. And by the darkening of his face, he didn’t appreciate it.
“Sorry,” I said after my laughter had subsided. “You are anything but, Liam Davies. Though it’s been a decade since we met, I can honestly say that I don’t know you any better now than I did that first day.”
He didn’t like that either and darted his eyes away from mine. “She can stay,” he finally said.
My eyebrows arched.
“If you don’t feel like fighting her.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t mind.”
“Doesn’t it set a bad precedent, though? She can’t just demand to stay here all the time.”
“Fuck if I know,” he said.
I rubbed my face and sighed.
“No page in the binder for this one?” he asked.
Dropping my hands, I narrowed my eyes in his direction.
His lips quirked up like he was fighting a smile.
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll let her stay tonight, but just remember whose idea this was.”