Chapter 47
Cienna
“Ohh, the principal bun.” Reed walked behind me and nibbled below my earlobe. “Shit’s about to get real.”
I swatted him away. “Go get ready.”
He planted a final kiss on my shoulder, then walked to the bathroom, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low.
My favorite version of him. The one I’d gotten used to ravaging every morning.
I pouted to myself, holding back the urge to follow him into the shower, naked and sudsy. Another new favorite version of him.
I’d acquired many new favorites in the weeks since the dance.
The groggy, mussed-hair morning version.
The sweet, tucking-in-his-niece version.
The version where he cooks breakfast for dinner in a floral apron.
I’d spent a total of two nights apart from Abigail and Reed since I promised him I was all in.
We’d found a groove together: evenings with giggles and sweet conversations, mornings making lunches and finding socks, and nights curled up next to the man I loved.
I headed down the hall to the kitchen to make Abi’s lunch. As I passed her room, I stopped to listen as she gave Cheeto the rundown for the morning.
“Okay, Cheeto. You have to stay home from school today. I’m riding to school with Daisy ’cause Uncle Reed and Cici have a really ’portant meeting, and remember that time I left you in her car and then I thought you were lost?
” She huffed, clearly stressed at the memory.
“Then you smelled like stinky soccer socks when I finally found you.” She patted the fox on its head and placed a pretend phone next to it.
“This is for emergencies only.” Then she grabbed her pearl necklace from her jewelry box, the song tinkling briefly as it opened, then closed.
She placed the necklace on the fox. “This is so you can feel pretty all day, and then you won’t miss me.
” She kissed her fox’s nose and turned for the door.
I stepped out of her line of sight just in time and casually walked to the kitchen, knowing she’d be right behind me.
As I dug around for lunch ingredients in the fridge, her little arms wrapped around my waist. “Well, good morning, sunshine,” I said, squeezing her back, embracing her snuggles.
“Are you fancy because of your meeting?” She looked up at me, curiosity in her eyes. “Uncle Reed calls that your principal bun.” Indeed, he does. Something about dressing for the job you wanted. I just liked my hair out of my face, but a little bit of manifestation never hurt anyone.
I giggled and ruffled her hair, carrying a handful of food to the counter. “Oh! Can I have waffles for breakfast?”
Oh, how food could easily distract a five-year-old.
“Sure, can you grab them?”
The crinkling of the waffle wrapper sounded behind me. She set two waffles in the toaster, then looked at me with anticipation. “Can I push them down?”
“Sure.”
She squealed.
“But let me take them out when they pop up.”
Her legs kicked back and forth as she sat on her hands on the stool, her waffle plate ready in front of her. This girl was going to die of waffle anticipation.
When they popped up, I tested the temperature, then brought them to her plate along with a bowl of blueberries.
She squeaked in delight and began using her fork to tear the waffles to pieces.
With a big bite, she chewed, talking out of the side of her mouth.
“Are you going to see my grandma at your meeting today?”
I froze. How would she know that? My words came out stammering. “Um, well, yes, maybe…”
The chair nearly toppled over as she hopped up and darted to her room. After she was gone for a minute, my stomach tightened as worry crept through me. Had I upset her?
“Found it,” she shouted from her room, and relief washed over me. She ran up to the counter, flapping a piece of paper at me. It was folded in half, then folded again. And then again, until it was practically a tiny clump of paper uncoiled in her hand.
“Can you give this to my grandma?”
Clasping my hands around the treasure-wadded paper, I knelt down, eye to eye, and connected my forehead to hers. “Of course.”
For a moment, I just smiled at her, admiring the innocence of this little transaction, then shooed her away. “Go finish breakfast, or we won’t have time to wrangle your hair.”
As she noshed on waffles and gulped down milk, I continued to pack her lunch, then did the morning mental checklist, making sure I hadn’t forgotten something with Reed preoccupied.
Dressed: check.
Favorite socks: check.
Breakfast gobbled: check.
Lunch packed: check.
Survival of the Fittest—Hair Edition: Yikes.
A quick glance at my watch told me we had ten more minutes before Daisy would be pulling up in the driveway.
“To the salon,” I sang, ushering Abi into the bathroom in front of the mirror. My favorite part of my new daily routine. Making silly faces at our reflections and sharing giggles. Her laughs could nearly replace my morning coffee. Nearly.
Spritz sprinkled the air as I sprayed some detangler in her hair and combed my hands through her curls. “Do you want one braid or two today?”
Her eyes widened at me through the mirror. “Can I have a principal bun?”
I bit my lip, holding in my chuckle. “Of course. Do you have an important meeting today too?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, just kindergarten, and you won’t be there, so maybe I’ll be the boss.”
The glint of mischievousness in her eyes reminded me so much of her uncle that I huffed out a laugh.
Wrapping and wrangling her frizziness into a smooth bun was quite the feat, but 100 percent worth it when she peered at herself and the final product and her eyes lit up.
For a moment, I just stared at her sweet face reflected at me in the mirror.
My number one job today was to stay positive, for Reed’s sake.
But this quiet moment, with this little girl I loved so much, tugged at my heart.
I closed my eyes with a sigh, and Abi turned to look at me. “Are you nervous for your meeting?”
Bending down, I kissed her head. The curls already escaping her bun teased at my nose. “Yes, this meeting is more important to me than anything in this whole world.”
After seeing Abi off, I opened the door to the bedroom right as Reed stepped out from the bathroom, the smell of his body wash filtering through the room.
His red curls still held their form despite being wet and dripping across his forehead.
His auburn beard was gone, clean shaven for the first time in weeks, showing off his clenched jaw.
His brows were furrowed intensely, screaming with the tension radiating through him.
This Reed wasn’t in the mood for shenanigans; he was ready for battle.
The energy in the room was palpable, so harsh and so different from the airy and fresh feel I’d become used to.
He pulled his arms into his shirt sleeves and shrugged it over his shoulders.
Before he could start the first button, my arms were wrapped around his waist, my chin on his chest, tickled by the dusting of auburn hair.
He looked down at me, and the tightness in his brow eased a smidge as I smiled up at him.
“Yes, can I help you?” he asked, the corners of his mouth finally tipping. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his chin, then placed tiny pecks along his jawline, before moving to his mouth, where his lips pressed with mine and a sigh shuddered from him. “Mmm,” he hummed, “I love you.”
I began buttoning his shirt as he watched me in silence.
He tracked my fingers through each buttonhole, all the way to the top.
Then he grabbed my hand and kissed the palm.
“Thank you,” he breathed. Some of the tension left his body, but his jaw was still set, and there was a dark shadow hooding his eyes, no hint of the impish glimmer that so often shone through.
“We’ve got this,” I whispered. “Today is the day we end all of this bullshit and get our girl.”
He swallowed hard and the darkness in his eyes cooled slightly, the green changing from dark forest to a softer emerald.
Pulling his face down to mine, I bonked our foreheads gently. “I’m with you every step of the way. Right here.” I bunted his forehead once more, then stood and checked my bun for flyaways. I smacked his ass playfully on my way out of the bedroom. “I’m making coffee. You have five minutes!”
When he met me in the kitchen, ready to go, I put the lid on his to-go mug and took a sip of my own. With a happy sigh, I turned and handed him his. “You ready?”
“Not sure if ready is the right word.”
I rubbed my knuckles along his silky-smooth jaw, smiling at the way it felt and listening intently. He dropped his head. “I can’t let her down.”
Right then, I pictured the little fox, donned with pearls, sitting in Abi’s room. The little fox that she greeted me with on her first day of school. One of her bravest days yet.
I set down my coffee and then set his down too. He looked at me curiously as I grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hallway. I stopped at Caroline’s door and turned to face him, feeling him tense, hoping what I was about to suggest would bring him comfort. “Do you trust me?”
He looked down at me, brows lifted, then settled back in place. “Always.”