Chapter 6 #2
She nods and claps, her puppy tail practically wagging, and I let her choose if she wants a bun or a scone, and she goes with another roll.
“Your dad is gonna kill me, giving you all this sugar.”
“No, he won’t.” She gestures vaguely behind her, and I glance up to spy Roman talking to Jaybird and Cash, but he looks over as if he can sense me watching him. I smile his way as his daughter confesses, “I think he likes you.”
“What?” I shoot my gaze at her. “What’d you say?”
She licks the icing off her fingers, completely unaware she’s sent my thoughts careening off the tracks, and shrugs.
With Roman still staring at me, I stutter. “I just… Your dad… I…”
“Look at this!” She thrusts out her arm to show me her stick-on tattoo, and I show off my matching one, which delights her. “Can I stay with you? Daddy has to talk to people about cars. Fuck that!”
I stifle a laugh. “I doubt your daddy wants you cursing like that, but sure, you can stay with me.” I lift my attention once again.
Roman’s still watching me, and I can’t help but be pleased.
Can she stay with me? I mouth, pointing from Mazie to myself, and when he nods, I reach out for a napkin.
“You’re with me. Come on, you can sit next to Mio. ”
I set her up at the table and put her in charge of handing everyone a business card because no one can resist how cute she is, and the next time I peek at the tables next door, Roman’s speaking with an older gentleman, pointing out something on one of his marketing pamphlets.
He doesn’t exactly exude suave businessman with his beard, muscles, and tattoos, but he seems to be doing all right for himself, even with all his frowns.
“Is your dad grumpy a lot?” I ask Mazie, absently stacking napkins into a pile.
“Most times. But he likes being with Steve and me. He smiles when we cuddle.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s Steve?”
She swings her feet. “My bunny rabbit! He’s brown and has long ears like this…” She demonstrates how long Steve the bunny’s ears are by holding her hands by her shoulders. “Daddy says he doesn’t like Steve, but I know he’s lying. He loves Steve. Like, loves him.”
I imagine Roman, Mazie, and Steve all cuddled together, and I need to stop by CVS for a pregnancy test.
“You should come over to play with Steve,” Mazie continues.
“He’s so fast. He goes…” She zips her fingers all over the place.
“And sometimes I lose him, but Daddy always finds him, and then he looks at me like this…” She screws her face up in what I assume is an impression of her father.
“But that’s okay because even when he’s mad, he still loves me. That’s what he says.”
“You have a really good daddy.” I place my hand on my lower abdomen, my insides literally weeping. What is it about men who are good fathers that’s so sexy?
I don’t know, but I’m down bad. So much so that I’m not even really listening to Mazie as she goes on and on about her loose tooth and playing with Sloane’s children.
A familiar voice snaps me out of my daze. “There she is.”
I inhale a calming breath and smooth my hand over Mazie’s forehead, pushing back a few wisps of her hair before spinning around to face Kyle.
“Hey, Ellie,” he says again, flashing me a chummy grin that immediately puts me on edge. Only Sloane, my best friend and sister of my heart, calls me Ellie. To everyone else, I’m Eloise or Elle. Kyle continues smiling, oblivious to my discomfort.
“Hi, Kyle,” I reply, keeping my tone light despite my irritation. I glance around, hoping a customer will appear to give me an excuse to ignore him. No such luck.
He leans in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “You’ve been so busy today, we haven’t had a chance to chat. Figured I’d come over and see how my favorite baker is doing.”
I force a tight smile, cringing internally.
He’s been coming to talk to me occasionally for over a year.
At first, I thought the guy was lonely. I figured maybe he wasn’t good at making friends, but then it didn’t stop, and these “chats” kept getting longer and longer.
Since I started to understand that he feels more than friendly toward me, I’ve dodged any and all attempts when he asks me to hang out.
I don’t like saying no all the time, but I don’t get good vibes from him.
A little bit too Norman Bates for my tastes.
“That’s nice of you,” I say, trying to sound polite while also giving him an out to leave. “But as you can see, I’m pretty swamped at the moment.” I gesture at the customers milling around my booth. It’s a blatant hint, but Kyle remains planted in place.
“Yeah, no problem. I can wait.”
I bite my tongue in frustration. I hate being outright rude, but I’m losing my patience for all his awkward small talk and habit of getting into my personal space. As I’m debating how to extricate myself from this conversation, Roman steps up right next to Kyle.
“Hi, Daddy!” Mazie jumps from her chair, handing him one of my business cards. “Look it! There are two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve! Twelve cimanin buns!”
“Cinnamon,” he corrects gently, “but good counting.” He holds his palm out for her to slap even as his eyes trace over me, assessing me silently, before slanting to the man next to him.
Kyle smiles and sticks out his hand. “I’m not sure if we’ve ever officially met. I’m Kyle.”
Roman shakes his hand, and from the sudden streak of red that crosses Kyle’s face, I’m assuming it’s a hard grip.
From the size difference, it’s like watching a black bear against a chihuahua.
“Shouldn’t you be selling insurance or something?” Roman asks, voice a tad deeper than usual.
“I work at the bank,” Kyle corrects.
Roman merely grunts.
“I’m, uh…just talking to Eloise here about the big turnout today.” Even to my ears, Kyle’s lighthearted tone sounds brittle.
Roman’s gaze flicks to me briefly before returning to Kyle. “Yeah. She has a lot of customers here. A lot of work to do.”
His tone is neutral, but the undercurrent of warning is evident. Kyle shifts his weight, clearing his throat. “Well, I should probably get back.” He turns to me with a tight smile. “See you around, Ellie.”
I resist the urge to shout at him, “Don’t call me that!” But he scurries off without another word. Once he’s safely out of earshot, I exhale in relief.
“Thank you,” I say to Roman. “Sorry about that.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. If he keeps bugging you, let me know.”
I nod, both surprised and warmed at the idea of having a protector. “Yeah. Okay.”
Before I can say anything more, Mazie pulls on his arm. “Are you done working?”
He peers down at her with a softness that makes my chest ache. “Yeah. We can walk around if you want.”
“Fu—”
“Mazie.”
She redirects her excitement to me. “Wanna come with us?”
I hesitate, not wanting to intrude, but Roman gives me an almost imperceptible nod.
It’s Mio who physically pushes me to go. “Morgan’ll be here soon. I can take it from here. Go hang out.”
I meet Roman’s eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Your apron,” Mio reminds me, and I unknot the bow at my waist, tossing it to her.
Mazie places her free hand in mine, and my stomach flip-flops at how this adorable girl has clung to me so quickly.
With her between Roman and me, she swings her hands, and for one outrageously improbable second, I think that we make a cute picture, the three of us together.
A merry little trio.
As natural together as cinnamon and sugar.
I push the thought aside as we meander down the street to check out the other stores and vendors. Mazie regales us with random stories and shrieks of glee when she spots a beanbag-toss game.
She and I play, deliberately not following the rules of the game. Instead, trying to outdo the other with silly ways to toss the beanbag. She cracks up when I spin around a few times and aim my throw between my legs.
I think I even earn a half smile from Roman on that one too. It’s nice to see how relaxed and happy he is with his daughter. And…maybe me.
Maybe, like she said, he does like me.
We stop for complimentary lemonade outside the furniture store that sells pieces way outside of my price range. But Roman easily agrees when Mazie asks to go inside and test out the couches.
“I like this one! Can we get it?”
Roman sits next to his daughter when she pats the thick purple chaise longue. It belongs on the cover of a romance novel, but Mazie loves it and folds her hands together. “Pleeeeaaaaase.”
“No, Maze. We’re not getting this. I’m not buying any new furniture until you stop walking all over what we have. So if you keep breaking the fuck—if you keep breaking the springs in our couches, you’ll have to sit on the floor to watch your cartoons.”
She growls like a tiny animal and takes off again toward the decorative birdcage. Then Roman tilts his head up to me, and for the first time ever, I’m taller than him.
It doesn’t last long because he points to the open spot next to him, and I close the space between us like I’m in a trance. He has his arm propped on the top of the chaise, and when I sit, I turn into an eighth grader with her crush’s arm around her shoulders.
Butterflies explode in my belly, and all my fingers tingle. I think I might need to run home to rid myself of this energy, but when I finally pull myself together, I face him, hoping my cheeks aren’t as pink as they feel. “You’ve got a really cute kid.”
“Sometimes,” he teases, watching her as she dances with a pillow.
It takes him a while to turn back to me, so I have enough time to admire the line of his aquiline nose, the mass of his hair, left loose and long over his shoulders that gives him a wild sort of look.
Not to mention the tattoo on the back of his hand that’s next to my left shoulder, the way his thumb barely touches my upper arm.
When he does finally meet my gaze, it makes me sweat. “She’s really taken to you.” He licks his lips and readjusts his position, widening his legs and angling himself so his knee touches mine. “But she’s not the only one.”
I surreptitiously rub my damp palms on my pants, aiming for a joke. “Yeah, Kyle, he’s…something.”
Roman doesn’t like that, and his hand fully lands on my shoulder like a weight threatening to take me under, buried in his heat and smell and size. He opens his mouth to speak, but Mazie beats him to it.
“Can we go nooooow?”
“Yeah,” he answers, gaze still on me. “We’ll head back.” Then he stands and holds out his hand to me like a gentleman, guiding me up. His fingers linger on mine, until Mazie runs between us and out the door.
On our way back, we stop to pet a dog that Mazie tries to hug, so Roman puts her on his shoulders, and I literally whimper when Roman sets his hand on my lower back, guiding me to the sidewalk.
“We’ve got to get home,” he tells me. “But I’ll see you later?”
I nod and tug on Mazie’s tulle dress. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you today.”
“Can we do it again?” she asks, and I nod. “Absolutely.”
Roman agrees, wiggling her leg but talking to me. “Whenever you want.”