Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Zane
Getting a half day at work during the summer is rare, but it’s desperately needed.
As soon as I got home and took care of Sven, I collapsed onto the couch.
As I’m starting to drift into the most glorious sleep, my front door flies open.
Sven jumps to his feet, barking wildly as someone barrels inside.
“Uncle Z! Wake up!”
Annabelle launches herself at me, wrapping her small arms around my neck and squeezing tightly.
I grunt as she nearly knocks the air from my lungs.
Behind her, Ryland and Raine step inside, each carrying several bags and wearing matching apologetic smiles.
When Annabelle finally loosens her grip, she drops to the floor and bursts into giggles as Sven licks her cheek.
His tail wags so hard his whole body swings side to side.
“You didn’t forget, did you?” Raine asks as she sets down some grocery bags onto the kitchen island.
“There’s no way he did,” Ryland says from behind her. “I reminded him over an hour ago, before I left the job site.”
With a groan, I push myself upright and scrub a hand over my face. “I didn’t forget. I thought I might be able to squeeze in a nap before y’all got here.” I glance between them. “Clearly, that failed.”
Raine’s face softens. “If you’re too—”
Across the island, Ryland’s eyes practically bug out of his head as he shoots his wife a look—one that says canceling their weekend plans is absolutely not an option.
I hold up both hands before Raine can finish the sentence.
“I promise I’m okay. Plus, I’ll give Annabelle so much sugar while she’s here that we’ll both end up crashing for a nap later.”
Ryland’s jaw ticks the tiniest bit, and a deep chuckle escapes me. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” I add before giving Annabelle a wink.
“Annabelle.” Ryland bends down so he’s on her level. “Promise me that you won’t eat too much sugar while you’re at Uncle Z’s house. If you end up with an upset stomach, it’ll ruin the rest of your weekend. And I want you to have so much fun.”
“I promise,” she says solemnly, crossing her heart.
Raine steps in beside him and places a hand onto Annabelle’s shoulder. “She will. Zane always takes good care of her.”
“I do. You two get out of here already, and go enjoy your weekend together.”
Ryland hesitates for a moment before reaching his arms out to wrap his daughter into a hug. He whispers something into her ear before smirking at me. As Raine bends down to wrap Annabelle into a hug, Ryland extends a hand out toward me, and I give it a shake.
“Thanks for keeping her for us.”
“Of course.” I bring him in for a hug and whisper, “I promise everything will be okay. Now leave already.”
“Alright, alright.” He holds his hands up in surrender, but I see the twinkle in his eyes. "Have fun, you two."
We wave as their vehicle backs out of the driveway, and the moment they’re out of sight, I turn and attack Annabelle with tickles.
“Now that they’re gone,” I say between tickles, “the party can officially begin.”
“Party time!” she shrieks, her laugh piercing straight into my ear.
“Careful. My ears are fragile.”
She squints at me in a way that’s far too mischievous for someone her size. “And I know exactly what we should do.”
That should’ve been my warning.
Annabelle drops to the floor, yanks open her backpack, and pulls out a large nail polish kit that has every color imaginable, layers of glitter, rhinestones, and stickers shaped like stars and tiny hearts. Ryland’s smirk makes more sense now.
“Daddy said you’ve been needing a manicure,” she says sweetly.
“Oh, did he now?”
Before I can even form a protest, she’s already steering me toward the living room.
“Come on, just trust me,” she says over her shoulder.
“That’s exactly what worries me,” I mutter, stumbling a little as she nudges me onto the couch. As I take a seat, Annabelle rushes into my bedroom, and a second later, she tosses something soft at my chest.
“Put that on.”
I glance down at the black robe bundled in my hands and look up right as she hands me a bright-pink headband.
I shake my head. “Oh, absolutely not.”
“Oh, absolutely yes,” she counters, stepping closer before I can dodge her. She stretches the band between her hands and slides it up over my hair, pushing it back from my face with far too much satisfaction. “There. Adorable.”
“I bet I look ridiculous.”
“You look like someone who’s about to have great skin.”
I huff under my breath but shrug into the robe anyway, tying it loosely as I eye the small bowl she’s mixing at the coffee table.
“What is that?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Magic,” she says far too cheerfully.
“It looks like pond water.”
“It’s a clay mask,” she corrects, dipping her fingers into the bowl. “And you’re going to love it.”
“I don’t—” I try to protest, but I’m too late.
Her fingers swipe across my cheek, and I flinch at the thick, gooey texture that smears across my skin. She laughs, completely unbothered, as she smooths the green mixture across my cheeks with careful strokes.
“Hold still,” she scolds lightly when I try to lean away. “You’re going to mess me up.”
I shake my head, but a reluctant smile tugs at my mouth as she steps back to admire her work and bursts out a laugh.
“You look like Shrek.”
“How rude,” I tell her solemnly.
She giggles before shoving a foam divider between my toes and begins to paint them in a chaotic rainbow.
There are a few knocks on the front door before we hear Maxinne’s voice float in from the doorway. “Knock, knock. Is anyone home?”
Sven barks and takes off running toward her. She freezes once she steps into the living room, her eyes growing as they inspect the scene. Maxinne lifts her phone, laughter lighting up her beautiful face, and she snaps a picture.
“Oh, this is getting sent to everyone,” she cackles.
“I take my role as the world’s best uncle very seriously, thank you very much.”
She steps closer, her gaze bouncing between me and Annabelle. “You look…very committed to the role.”
Annabelle beams at Maxinne proudly. “He’ll thank me later.”
Maxinne meets my eyes then, warmth and tenderness shining within them. “I agree.”
Annabelle launches into a question about glitter polish versus glow-in-the-dark, and while Maxinne’s attention shifts to my niece, I take the opportunity to admire her.
I haven’t seen much of her this week. Not even on the porch in the mornings, barefoot with a cup of coffee in her hands.
Or sitting across from me at the kitchen table, absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear while she listens to me talk.
We’ve both been so busy, and the days have felt off without her. My gaze lingers on her now as she leans in toward Annabelle, fully invested in whatever she’s saying, her smile easy.
I’ve missed her.
My gaze drifts lower, taking in her cut-off denim shorts, white tank top, and green flannel rolled to her forearms. She’s not wearing her watch today, exposing the small butterfly tattoo on her wrist. Her hair hangs in a loose braid over one shoulder, a few strands escaping around her face.
She’s so stunning that it gives my heart a painful thud. A reminder that I want all of her laughs, her smiles, and her brown eyes to shine bright with happiness because of me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Maxinne asks, snapping me out of whatever daze I’ve wandered into.
I shake my head and turn toward Annabelle. “I was thinking that you should join this amazing spa day experience.”
Her wide smile tells me she’s already considered it. Annabelle peers up at her with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. It’s a look that’s hard to resist. Maxinne gives a little shrug and takes the seat next to me on the couch, so close to me that our arms brush against each other.
“You know, I could use a spa day.”
Annabelle claps her hands together excitedly before opening her nail pack and picking out a color for Maxinne.
My senses tingle, alerting me that Maxinne’s eyes are on me, and I fight the urge to look back at her, but I give in.
As soon as my face turns toward hers, she snaps her attention back to Annabelle.
There’s a hint of pink on the tip of her ears and cheeks as she bites her bottom lip. I nudge her with my elbow, leaning in close enough that my lips are only centimeters from grazing her earlobe.
“Your thoughts are written all over your face, Butterfly.”
The pieces of her hair framing her face move as my breath hits her, and she shivers. Knowing that I have any kind of effect on her makes me want to see what other buttons I can push. I move away and sink farther into my cozy couch.
She narrows her eyes at me when I smirk at her. “And what are they?” She lifts a brow in a challenge.
Mine do the same as I reply, “That you find me unbelievably attractive in a green face mask.”
A burst of laughter escapes her before Annabelle asks for her hand and begins painting her nails with a sunshine-yellow color.
Maxinne’s gaze finds mine, one corner of her mouth twitching upward, making the faintest dimple pop in her cheek. “Guilty as charged.”
Ever since I met Maxinne, I haven’t exactly made it easy for her to read me.
Every interaction has been one step forward, two steps back.
A green light followed by an immediate red, all because I’ve convinced myself that keeping people at a distance is safer than risking my heart again.
But sitting here now, watching her laugh with Annabelle, I realize I’m tired.
I’m tired of second-guessing every feeling, of creating a distance when all I want to do is close it.
Her arm brushes mine again, and I don’t pull away from it, because I want to know what could happen if I stop holding back.
That’s the issue, though, because Maxinne came to Covewood with dreams that existed long before I ever entered the picture, and I want her to chase every single one of them.
I’d never ask her to give those up, not for me or for anyone.