23. Chapter 23
“Do you think she’s having fun?” Jamie asks, his hand warm on the small of my back. Ella’s fingers are tight in mine as we weave through the crowd, looking for whatever catches her eye next.
When she stops to take in the stands, I lean back and murmur, “I think she’s having the time of her life.” The movement brings me closer to him than I mean to, and my head is virtually against his shoulder.
Not that he seems to mind.
When I tip my chin up, he’s already watching me with a smile.
My gaze drops to his mouth, and he’s close enough to kiss.
God, do I want to kiss him again.
I feel his fingers flex against my back as he leans in, my breath catching as the space between us disappears.
My stomach bottoms out, my lips tingle at the mere thought, and something burns in my chest.
Kiss me. Please, kiss me.
“Can we do the bumper cars?” Ella asks, taking us out of the moment.
Jamie pulls away, acting completely unfazed by the move as he kneels next to her. “Sure.”
Ella’s smile grows. “Can I go with you?” she asks, leaning into him, holding out her arms. Jamie gladly accepts the hug and takes the opportunity to scoop her up and settle her on his hip.
My heart does that stupid flutter thing again. It happens every time I watch them together and realize this is real. Somehow, we’re here, standing in the middle of it.
The three of us.
“I can go on my own,” I say, gesturing to the ride.
Jamie pokes Ella’s nose. “What do you say, princess? Think we can take down your mom?”
Ella giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We’re gonna win!”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” I raise an eyebrow, already heading toward the ticket booth. “You two against me?”
“Yeah,” Ella says.
When we reach the front of the line, the attendant straps Ella into the passenger seat next to Jamie.
I slide into my own car two rows back. The vinyl seat is cracked and slightly sticky, and the whole ride smells like funnel cake and gasoline, but Ella's squealing with excitement, so none of it matters.
“May the best driver win,” Jamie calls over his shoulder, his smile easy as though this is exactly where he wants to be.
It’s exactly where I want him to be, too.
The buzzer sounds, and suddenly we're off.
Immediately, I press down on the pedal, only for my car to lurch forward, and I overcorrect, spinning in a slow circle before I even make it five feet. Jamie’s already spotted me—I can see him grinning as he steers toward me with Ella shrieking in delight beside him.
“Watch out, Mama!” Ella yells just before they slam into my side.
The impact jolts me, and I can't help but laugh. “Oh, you're going down, Nicks!”
I manage to get my car straightened out and gun it toward them. Jamie's trying to reverse, but he's blocked by another car, and I seize my opportunity. I crash into them head-on, and Ella throws her hands up like she's on a roller coaster.
“Again! Again!” she shouts.
We spend the next few minutes in complete chaos—bumping, spinning, laughing. Every time Jamie gets close, I manage to dodge him, and every time I line up a shot, he swerves away at the last second.
“You're pretty good at this,” Jamie says when we finally pull up, side by side during a brief lull.
“Don't sound so surprised,” I shoot back, as I whack their car and drive past them.
I can’t smile for too long because another car bumps me in the side two seconds later.
When the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the ride, we all come to a stop. The attendant starts making his rounds, unstrapping everyone, and when he gets to Ella, she's still bouncing in her seat.
“That was so fun! Can we go again?” she asks.
“Shall we see what else we can do first?” I suggest. “Then come back?”
Ella nods, and as we’re walking away from the ride, Ella skips ahead to a couple of the stands. Jamie falls into step beside me, and he’s close enough that our arms brush. His pinkie grazes mine once. Then again.
I look down at our hands, and a second later, his palm slides into mine. It’s tentative at first, and when I don’t pull away, he laces our hands together.
I don’t look at him. I don’t think I can without blushing.
I just let myself enjoy the warm, tingly feeling making its way through my chest as I let myself enjoy this. I feel like a kid again. Not a mom with a three-year-old, but the girl that I maybe could’ve been if I hadn’t gotten pregnant so young.
We wander through the carnival, stopping at every game that catches Ella’s eye. She tries the ring toss and misses spectacularly, the plastic rings clattering uselessly against the bottles.
“It’s okay,” Jamie says easily, crouching beside her. “You want to try again?”
She shakes her head, already looking for the next booth.
When we reach the water-shooter game, Ella slows, watching the stream of kids spraying water at tiny metal targets.
“This one,” she says, pointing.
Jamie grins and hands the attendant a few bills. “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Ella climbs onto the stool and grabs the handle with both hands. The buzzer sounds, and she squeezes the trigger.
The water sprays everywhere except the target.
Her smile falters. “It’s not working.”
“It is,” Jamie says calmly. “You’re just moving it too much.”
She tries again, her tongue poking out and her eyes narrowed in concentration, but she still veers left, barely moving the target.
Ella drops her head. “I can’t do it,” she says, defeated.
Jamie crouches beside her so he’s eye level. With a steady voice, he says, “Hey. You definitely can. Just pick one spot and keep it there.”
He demonstrates it to her quickly, just enough to show her the idea, then places her hands on the handles.
“Try again,” he says, subtly holding the bottom of the gun to keep it steady. She hasn’t notices.
When she presses the button down to release the water, the stream wobbles, then quickly steadies.
“There,” Jamie says quietly. “Just like that.”
The target begins to rise.
Ella gasps. “It’s moving!”
“Keep going,” he says. “You’ve got it.”
She keeps going, managing to hold steady until the target reaches the top with a soft ding.
“I won!” she yells, bouncing in place.
“I knew you could do it!” he says.
She throws herself at his legs, and he laughs, ruffling her hair. The attendant unhooks the pink bear and hands it to Ella, who clutches it to her chest, squeezing it harder than her Mr. Nibbles bear.
“What are you going to name it?” I ask.
“Mr. Squishy,” she declares without hesitation.
“Perfect. Do you think Mr. Squishy would like to go on the Ferris wheel?” Jamie asks, pointing to the ride. It’s big, and I’m not sure how she’ll handle it.
Ella nods, looking at Jamie with awe. My chest constricts the same way it did at the ballet class. Ella’s got what I always wanted. A father who cares for her. A family who wants her, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
“Let’s go,” I say, clearing my throat.
By the time we get to the Ferris wheel, the sun is starting to set, and Ella’s clutching Mr. Squishy in one arm and holding Jamie’s hand in the other.
A second later, his other hand brushes mine again before he curls his fingers around mine, and I smile.
Yeah, this is ours.
We climb into the gondola, and Ella immediately presses her face to the window, still talking to Mr. Squishy about how high we're going to go.
Jamie pauses, nodding at the seat beside me. “Can I, uh, sit here?”
I smile and shift just enough to make room. “Yeah, of course.”
His hand finds mine on the bench, and I lace them together.
The gondola lurches forward, then starts to move as the wheel lifts us slowly above the noise of the carnival. Ella’s completely absorbed in the view, pointing out the lights below.
Up here, everything feels quieter.
Everything except my beating heart.
That’s loud, and I don’t know if it’s because of the adrenaline or the fact that every time I look at Jamie I feel something I don’t think I should.
I turn to look at him, and he’s already watching me.
“She’s having a good night,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” I reply. “She really is.”
He smiles and looks back at our daughter, who’s still giggling away with Mr. Squishy, completely unaware of her parents on the other bench.
“I like seeing her like this.” The way he says it does something to me.
I look at him properly then. He’s no longer this evil version of a man that I’ve carried around in my head for years.
He’s completely different. He’s someone caring, who stays at his own detriment.
Who teaches and wants to show up without being asked.
And that’s what terrifies me.
Because this version of Jamie—the real one—is the one that could break my heart if he does change his mind.
“You know, I didn’t think it was possible,” I admit quietly.
“What?” he asks.
“This,” I say, gesturing vaguely between the three of us. “You. Us. I never let myself picture it.”
He studies me for a moment. “I have,” he says quietly. “Since the day I found out about Ella. I pictured showing up. Being there for her and learning how to be what she needs.”
His gaze lifts to mine.
“Being with you,” he adds, softer, “felt like something I wasn’t allowed to want, but I did. Every single time.”
The words sit between us, too real for me to say anything back. I swallow, my chest tight in a way that has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the way he’s looking at me. Steady. Hopeful. He’s all in, and just patiently waiting for me to catch up.
I don’t answer. I can’t.
Ella laughs at something below us, completely absorbed, and even though the sound fills the gondola, it doesn’t break the tension between me and Jamie.
He must feel me tense, or maybe he sees it on my face, because his thumb stops tracing circles and he ducks his head slightly to catch my eye.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You okay?”
“You said you loved me last night.”
The words come out before I can stop them, and the silence that follows makes me want to jump out of this gondola entirely.
“I did,” he says quietly.