been slightly delayed. I grin as I lead her up the porch steps. “Of course.”
“But not Merlin. He’d probably throw me off.”
I laugh, swinging open the door. “I’ll give you a different horse. Merlin’s mine.”
Her smile and tone are teasing. “Now his judgey eyes make sense.”
I give her one last kiss as we walk inside, completing what I started in this kitchen an hour ago. But a voice makes us both jerk apart, our lips making an awkward smack as they separate.
“You might still be contagious. Swapping spit is probably a bad idea,” Ella says.
Ella. The daughter I didn’t know about and then forgot all about while I’ve been putting the moves on Zoey is sitting at the kitchen table, shoveling pot roast into her mouth while my mama and daddy give us knowing—and much too delighted—smiles.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zoey
I’m pacing the room that’s starting to feel smaller and smaller. Hopefully, the creaking floor isn’t keeping anyone awake. The rest of the house is silent except for the constant hum of the air-conditioning. Outside, I hear the occasional lowing of a cow and what I think is the barking howl of a coyote. On a normal night, those nature sounds might calm me. Tonight, however, is not a normal night.
Gavin kissed me.
I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. And I would know, because I had a few in the years just before and right after Mom’s death. First, brought on by stress over my grades and a drive toward perfectionism that I’ve had to fight for years. And then, by the loss and grief after Mom died.
Now? The tightness in my chest and lightness in my head is a direct result of the man sleeping on the couch downstairs. And his expert lips, which I can still feel on mine. His sweet words, which are running through my brain like those big screens at the stock market exchange.
I should be happy. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted? What I dreamed of?
Maybe not in a barn, but there was something sexy about him dragging me into that dark corner, the scent of leather mixing with his cologne. He could have kissed me anywhere and it would have been mind-scrambling. It was more than what I ever imagined.
But his kisses and his whispered confessions didn’t change the facts that hit me the moment we walked through the kitchen door.
Ella. Gavin has a daughter. One I’m currently contracted to help take care of through the weekend, maybe longer.
The contract was a really stupid idea of mine, but it’s not like Gavin and I couldn’t just revisit that. I resigned at Morgan-Beckwith, so I can forget the worry over him being my boss.
But the age difference isn’t changing. Neither is the fact that he has a daughter. He’s a dad. After so many years of thinking I’d never be a mom, am I ready to suddenly parent an eight-year-old, especially one with the kind of baggage Eleanor left behind?
Then there’s my dad. I can’t even begin to fathom a conversation in which I tell him I’m dating a man in his forties. One who has an eight-year-old daughter.
If Dad even knew I was here right now …
Things felt so easy between us and with his parents, that my worries were swept into a far corner of my mind. Or maybe under a rug. Now, in this quiet room, they’re like a thousand birds squawking in my ear, filling me up with noise.
I’m pacing, and my eyes come to rest on a photograph on the wall. It’s from homecoming or prom, the kind of formal picture they take at the dance. The pose is classic. Gavin is grinning widely, his hands resting on the hips of a girl with dark, curly hair. I hate her instantly, despite the fact that she’s long gone and I’m here. Her hair is awful, I think, and the bubblegum pink dress looks like it’s from another century.
It is from another century, I realize. Literally. Because Gavin was in high school before 2000.
I’m going to throw up. Or pass out. Maybe both. Knowing my luck lately, I’ll probably throw up and then pass out in my own vomit, a completely disgusting thought that somehow sobers me right up.
I have to talk to someone about this before I spontaneously combust. I need help. I’m desperate. My skin is tingling, and if I hadn’t already checked my temperature (because yes, I packed a thermometer, knowing that there’s a high likelihood I’ll get