Chapter Eight
Tanner
I was having second thoughts about coming here. As much as I didn’t want to disappoint Maisie, I can help but wonder if she and Ella are stand-ins for what was taken from me. The thought has a warning bell blaring in the back of my mind.
In the end, I shove the errant idea aside. Maisie has had me enamored from the beginning. I’m sure it’s just the timing and her age that have me even entertaining the idea.
Now I’m here and having the best dinner I’ve had in quite a while with Maisie keeping us entertained while we eat. I’m damn glad I didn’t let the past derail me from experiencing this. Getting a taste of what could’ve been is everything I imagined it would be.
I could be bitter about it having been taken from me, but being here with Ella and Maisie right now, I’m choosing to be grateful. It seems I just might be getting a second chance. One I was sure I’d never get.
Maisie’s little giggles are music to my ears. Her happiness is infectious. A grin breaks across my face as she recounts how she accidentally let the chickens out this morning and the ensuing pandemonium.
“And thened one flewed up in the air and pooped on Mommy’s head.” Her peals of laughter have me laughing right along with her.
Ella shakes her head, lips twitching, before a chuckle escapes. “I’d rather not repeat that experience, stinker. So no more going to get eggs without me.”
If Maisie’s giggle is music to my ears, then Ella’s husky chuckle is akin to catnip for my cock. The sound has me shifting in my seat to accommodate its growing length.
“Alright, little miss, it’s time for your bath.”
Maisie’s lower lip pops out—as to be expected. I can visibly see her chest filling with air with what I’m positive will be protests.
“You go take your bath, while I do the dishes and clean up the kitchen, and then I’ll read you one more book before bed,” I offer in an attempt to keep her from turning the directive into an argument.
Ella’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at the suggestion, but Maisie’s pout immediately transforms into a face-splitting smile.
“Otays.” Maisie scrambles out of her chair and down the hall.
Ella presses her lips together, brows pinched. “You don’t have to do that.”
I shake my head. “I know, I want to. Sorry, I should’ve cleared it with you first, but I could tell she was going to put up a fight. I just wanted to save you from that if I could.”
“Well I appreciate it more than you could know. Being a single parent means always being the bad guy. You really don’t have to do the dishes, though.”
“Of course I do. You did all the work making this incredible dinner for us. It’s the least I can do.” I stand and start collecting the discarded dishes.
She pushes back from the table. “Careful, a girl could get used to this kind of treatment.”
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t have to get used to it.
It should just be the standard. You and Maisie deserve more than the fucking bare minimum.
I’m sorry that hasn’t been your experience, but if you let me, I’ll make sure you never go without it again.
I’ll set the fucking bar so high the men in Maisie’s future will need to pole vault to make it over.
” My heart thunders as the words slip out without me fully thinking about them.
Her eyes widen, mouth falling open in an O. I hadn’t meant to be so forward, but now they’re out there I can’t snatch them back, not that I want to. They’re the damn truth and she deserves nothing less. I can only hope I don’t send her running in the other direction with my frankness.
Before she can say anything, her phone rings. She walks to the kitchen counter where she swipes up the device. Her lips turn down when she sees the screen. “Excuse me, I have to take this and check on Maisie.”
“Of course,” I reply and continue to clear the table. I’d rather continue the conversation I inadvertently started, but I grant her the reprieve I’m sure she needs after the verbal bomb I dropped on her.
I’ve gotten the kitchen spotless, even going so far as to sweep the floors after finding a broom and dustpan in the laundry room off the kitchen, when Maisie comes trotting down the hall in her purple unicorn pajamas with a book tucked beneath her arm and the bunny I gave her clutched in her hand.
“Ready for my story, Prince Hero Tanner,” she singsongs.
Ella’s face is pinched tight as she follows behind her. I’m not sure whether it’s from our interrupted conversation or her phone call. Either way, I don’t like it.
I let Maisie lead me to the tan floral sofa in the living room. It’s worn in spots from use but not uncomfortable. Maisie climbs into my lap, thrusting her book at me.
Ella perches on a matching armchair, chewing on her thumbnail.
After I finish the book about, what else but a prince saving a princess, Maisie sighs.
“Nows do you have ta go Prince Hero Tanner?” Before I can confirm I should get going she gasps.
“I knowed! You canned stay the night. Then you could keep Mommy from having more bad dreams. Cause you’re a Prince Hero so you canned help her. ”
My gaze snaps to Ella’s wide cerulean eyes at Maisie’s unintentional confession. Her cheeks are bright pink as she hisses, “Maisie, no!”
“Are you having nightmares, sweetheart?” I ask.
Maisie nods as Ella shakes her head. “But Mommy, youd did. Youd said so when you woked me up from the noises you made.” Maisie looks up at me with pleading eyes and praying hands under her chin. “Pwease Prince Hero. Mommy needs you to sleep with her so she doesn’t have no more bad dreams.”
I swallow down my chuckle at the four-year-old begging me to sleep with her mother. “I’d be happy to Maisie-girl, but I don’t know that your mommy would be comfortable with that. But I will sleep here on the couch so I’m close by if she needs me.”
“Tanner, absolutely not.”
“But Mommy,” Maisie whines.
“How about you get tucked in and your mommy and I can talk about it, okay?” I try to placate Maisie and not start an argument with Ella in front of her.
Something’s not right, and I’m not leaving until I find out what’s going on.