Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,22
faces and non-snotty noses.
No one threw up.
No one had to go to the principal’s or forgot their student ID number. No one even talked back.
It was the best day ever.
And one that was punctuated by her and Ry scoring matching socks at Sock-a-Palooza that were silky soft and patterned with penguins wearing sunglasses.
It was the best day ever . . . until she walked up to her house and saw the For Sale sign planted in front of it.
Ten
Tears and a White Couch
Finn
He saw Rylie and Shannon emerge from the front of her house, walking up the little path that led from the narrow street that all of the cottages’ garages backed up to.
He’d taken a dip in the ocean, his towel draped around his shoulders, salt water dripping down his spine in cold rivulets that felt much icier since the sun was setting and the afternoon breeze was picking up.
But one look at Shannon’s face and the ice on his spine wasn’t from the ocean.
He jogged over. “What is it?”
A shake of her head. A forced smile. “I’m fine.”
“Shan—”
“I’m fine.”
Sharp now.
A tone that normally would have him backing off. Except . . . the sadness was back. He’d watched it fade to the background over the last week, over peanut butter milk and blue waves. He’d seen it settle as they’d walked by each other on the beach, when he’d brought her a cup of coffee to thank her for the banana bread.
He’d just started to get to know this woman—
And he felt like he was seeing her again for the first time.
Fuck, what had made her so sad?
“I’ll see you later, Finn,” she said.
“Mom and I are having a tradition.”
A twitch of Shan’s lips, the sadness still there but tempered by her love for her daughter. “We’re making a first day of school tradition.”
“Socks and pineapple!” Ry cheered.
More smiling. More sad.
God, he shouldn’t care so much. He shouldn’t be infatuated with this woman who wasn’t even divorced yet, who had her own life to sort out while he was sorting out his. He had his life; she had hers.
He shouldn’t care she was sad.
But he did.
“Shan—”
His watch beeped, signaling a call redirected from his cell.
“You should get that,” she said, pointing at his watch. “Ry and I will catch up with you another time.”
Finn silenced the call. “How was it?”
Brows drawn together. “How was what?”
“How was the first day?” he asked.
“It was awesome,” Ry said, dancing around. “I’m in class with my best friend, Lizzy, and Mrs. Montgomery is nice, and I have my own desk organizer with all of my own things in their own spots.”
That made him glance up from the dancing child and into Shan’s eyes.
Real amusement trumped sad.
“Are you insinuating that because my house is very organized and neat that I have something to do with my child’s appreciation of desk caddies?” she asked.
“Yes.” A beat. “You have a white couch.” His lips twitched. “And matching baskets.
She laughed. “Clearly, that means an obsession with organization.”
He lifted a brow. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” she admitted, lips curving. “As you well know, since you’ve set foot in my house.” She brushed a hand across his chest.
He froze.
Because her palm sliding across his bare chest . . . fuck, it was the lightest, most innocent touch, and she might as well have slipped her hand in the front of his swim trunks and wrapped her fingers around his cock.
Then she seemed to realize what she’d done and took a hurried step back. “Sorry. I— Uh . . . you had a fly. Um—”
His watch beeped again.
“You should get that,” she repeated, skittering back. “Come on, Ry. Our pizza’s getting cold.”
“Mr. Finn can eat with us,” Ry announced.
For the record, Mr. Finn was fine with that. He silenced his watch.
“We’re doing our tradition,” Shan said. “Remember? Just the two of us.”
That was probably the one thing Shannon could have said to get him to not take Rylie up on her offer. Because this was her time with her daughter, and she’d worked all day. Not to mention, she was upset and . . . there was just no way he was going to insert himself into a situation where he didn’t belong.
He ruffled Rylie’s hair. “We’ll do pizza another time,” he told her. “This is Mom and Daughter time.”
Blue-brown eyes widened. “Oh! Mom and Daughter time is the best! Can I paint my nails to match my new socks?”
Shan chuckled. “Not sure I can manage penguins, sweetheart.”
“I meant blue,