Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,35
was that she was going to give me a coronary if she kept walking around in those little yoga outfits all day every day. If I thought her ass looked outstanding in jeans and leggings, it was nothing compared to how yoga clothes not only showed off but also flaunted her incredible body.
Those thoughts flew out the window the instant I watched her whip open the back door of the car and nearly catch a little girl with the exact same hair color midair. The air actually expelled from my lungs at the sight of Hayden then. It was the look of sheer joy on her face, the love radiating from her as she clutched the child tight. I felt like I was witnessing the woman slowly being pieced back together after days of having lived broken in two.
The prick who got out of the driver side and rounded the hood had to have been the ex, and I saw it then, clear as day, he was missing what he’d thrown away, no doubt about it. It was all but chiseled into his face, even as his new bitch sat in the front seat, scowling at Hayden and her girl.
I hated the jackass on sight.
Moving toward the fence, I got my first up-close look at the little girl, and if the hair hadn’t made it obvious who she belonged to, the blue gemstone eyes certainly did. She looked like a mini-Hayden, and I thought she was cute as hell. Especially when I caught a glimpse of her outfit.
Her black long-sleeved tee had a skull and crossbones on the front made out of bright pink sequins. She wore a big, puffy tutu in the exact same pink, and beneath that were black leggings, and shiny combat boots that looked like they were covered in pink glitter. She looked part diva, part princess, part rocker, and all wild with her wavy red hair hanging free, all the way down her back.
“Hey there,” I said once I was within a couple of feet.
“I’m Ivy,” she said, her big bright eyes full of curiosity and happiness. “Who’re you?”
Jesus, this kid. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen one so damn cute before. But still, she needed to be a whole hell of a lot more careful. “I’m Micah. Hasn’t your mom talked to you about stayin’ away from strangers? It’s not safe to go around givin’ your name to just anyone.”
Her little head cocked to the side, and I noticed then that she had a bright pink flower tucked behind her ear. “But you’re not a stranger,” she said, her Rs coming out a bit thick, sounding more like Ws—again, cute. “Auntie Siva said you’re our neighbor, and people should know their neighbors. So I said hi.”
“Fair point. Well then, hi back. Speaking of your aunt . . .” I scanned the area nearby. “She out here keepin’ an eye on you?”
“Yep,” she chirped. “We’re lovin’ the garden. Auntie Siva says dat means I get to tear all the dead stuff outta the ground so all the new, pretty stuff can grow. See?” She held up her hands, showing me they were caked with dirt. Upon closer inspection, so was her tutu. So, she was a rocker/diva/princess/tomboy then. Odd combo, but she seemed to make it work. “You wanna help us love the garden?”
“No thanks, kid. I had a shit day. I’m gonna go inside and crash.”
Her mouth dropped open comically wide, and she sucked in a dramatic gasp. “You said shit,” she stage whispered. “You owe me a dollar!”
My chin jerked back in shock at that. “I’m not givin’ you a fuckin’ dollar,” I declared, the words tumbling out before I could pull them back. Son of a bitch. I wasn’t used to being around kids, hell, I wasn’t even good with kids, so I hadn’t been prepared to keep my language in check.
Her chest puffed and her whole body swayed backward on another gasp. “Dat’s five dollars! ’Cause Mommy says dat’s a really bad word.”
Sylvia joined us at the fence line. “Evenin’, Micah. Glad to see you made it home before the moon came up tonight.”
“Auntie Siva! Mike said alllllll the bad words!”
Sylvia arched a single brow. “Did he now?”
“It’s Micah, not Mike,” I corrected.
“Dat’s what I said.”
Deciding it was best to give up on that particular argument, I looked to Sylvia and saw a look of reproach on her face. “Give me a break,” I grunted. “I’m not used to kids. I