Chapter Eight #2
Kneeling beside the bed so they can see the pictures, Amelia sits on the edge of the mattress, inches from me. From the outside, we’d look like a family—a mom and dad putting their kids to bed, reading stories, and kissing them goodnight.
But in reality, they’re only here temporarily, giving me a glimpse of what I yearn to have someday.
The kids getting attached isn’t the only thing Amelia should worry about while being here.
Because I am too.
My routine for one got an overhaul, and I switched to cooking for four, picking up toys before I step on them, checking on them in the middle of the night, reminding them to wash their hands, and so many other small details I never realized would be part of taking care of kids.
I find myself waking up eager to make them breakfast, where they tell me how they slept and what kind of dreams they had.
Fortunately, Sam hasn’t had a single nightmare since that first night and sleeps a good ten hours straight.
As I flip through the book, I read in different funny voices to make them giggle, but the best part is that it makes Amelia laugh, too.
“Again, again!” Lily begs when I finish the last page.
“It’s gettin’ late,” Amelia tells her. “And Colton has to work tomorrow.”
“You gotta read us one, Mommy.”
“I will, but only one.”
“Four!” Lily squeals.
“Two,” Amelia counters.
“Three?”
Amelia sighs. “Fine, and then it’s bedtime.”
I chuckle, then get to my feet. Holding out my fist, I wait for Sam to hit it as he does every night before bed.
“Night, sweetheart. Thanks for playin’ dolls with me.” I wink. “Again tomorrow?”
She holds her little blanket close to her face. “Are you my daddy?”
The abrupt question throws me so off guard that I nearly swallow my tongue when I attempt to speak. Amelia’s frozen next to me, equally as shocked. I can’t help wondering how much she’s talked about Lily’s biological father or if being here is confusing her too much.
“No, I’m not, sweetie. But I’d be the luckiest person in the world if I were.” I beam with pride, hoping it settles her curiosity for now.
“Oh.” She frowns, lowering her gaze.
A stake to the heart would hurt less than seeing Lily sad and disappointed.
“I’ll see y’all at breakfast.” I squeeze her little hand before walking out.
Amelia follows me into the hallway, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “We’ve talked ’bout her dad, but I think she’s confused since she’s never had a man live in the same house as her.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“You’re really good with ’em.” She rocks back and forth on her feet.
“Why do you seem surprised?”
“In my experience, people without kids don’t usually know how to be a parental figure to other people’s kids—especially only after a week. You got a few hours’ notice before we took over your house and basically stepped up without hesitation. It’s not somethin’ I’m used to or expected from you.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t underestimate someone you don’t know that well.” I raise a brow when her cheeks heat. “Or are you still pretendin’ we don’t have history?”
“Colt, I—”
“Mommy?” Lily calls out.
She sighs, but it’s not the right time for this conversation, although it’s long overdue.
“Go ahead. I’m gonna unload the dishwasher.” My arm brushes hers when I walk toward the kitchen.
More memories of our night together flood my mind along with a dozen questions. Who’s after them and why? How am I going to go back to my ordinary and sometimes dull life once they leave?
I love waking up and cooking for everyone.
Making food for one and sitting alone on my couch or breakfast bar is lonely as fuck.
Although Amelia and I haven’t spent much time together, I’ve gotten to know her kids over the past week and adore them.
I want this asshole stalker caught just as much as she does, but I’ll be sad to see them go.
After dropping the bombshell about getting kicked out at twenty, I’m eager to learn more about her past. Not only because I’m interested in her, but I’m also impressed by her resilience and what she’s gone through.
I want to know anything and everything about her.
How did she survive on her own while being pregnant so young?
Where did she go? Did anyone take care of her emotional needs?
Is this why she’s always in fight or flight mode and refuses to let anyone in because she fears she’ll get abandoned again?
Once the dishes are put away, I fill the kettle with water and turn it on. Amelia loves to drink tea before bed, and I realized she’d been heating the water in the microwave, so I ordered one to make it easier and hopefully taste better.
Since I didn’t know how many tea bags she packed and we don’t know how long she’ll be here, I also ordered a large variety pack so she has options. I’ve never been a tea drinker, but some of the flavors are intriguing enough that I might try it.
The spare room door is still open, so I head to mine to grab some sleep clothes and brush my teeth. For the past couple nights, I get ready for bed while she tucks the kids in and reads them stories. That way, I’m done by the time she’s finished.
I have a ton of laundry to do this weekend, so my options are limited. Grabbing the last pair of gray sweats I own, I slip them on and then remove my T-shirt.
“Oh shit.”
I spin to see Amelia exiting the bathroom, clutching her chest. “You scared me.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I cautiously step toward her. “I didn’t know you were in here.”
“You must’ve tired out the kids pretty good ’cause they fell asleep after one story,” she explains, her eyes lowering down my bare chest and landing on my piercings. “Um…”
“Amelia?”
She blinks as if just realizing she was staring. “Yeah?”
It’s impossible to hold back my amusement, and my lips curve into a crooked grin. “Are you done in the bathroom? I’ll only be a minute.”
“What? Oh, right. Yes. Go ahead,” she stammers through her words, a pink hue covering her neck and face. When she steps aside, I walk past her, give her a quick knowing look, then close the door behind me.