When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,51

cheek.

My gaze lowered to the woman’s black, form-fitting dress with black heels that accentuated her long legs. A small purse was clutched between her chest and arm. Her makeup was a little bit heavy for my taste, but she was stunning.

He’d wanted me to come back so he could go on a date. He had every right. A single man had needs.

“Hello.” The pretty lady looked shocked when her eyes landed on me and Bridget.

Had she not known he had a daughter?

“Cassie. This is Kate, and you’ve already met Bridget.”

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

Holding my hand, Bridget backed away without a word toward the Christmas tree.

Cassie assessed me from head to toe and turned away. She didn’t seem impressed. “Well, shall we?”

“I’ll be back soon.” Leonardo kissed Bridget on the forehead and left.

As soon as the door closed, Bridget’s shoulders eased, but she held her frown. “I don’t like that lady.” Her grip on my hand tightened. “She’s not nice.”

I agreed with her though I didn’t know the woman.

“How many times have you seen her?” The nosy question left my mouth before my brain caught up.

She held up four fingers and then angled her lips to the side. “No.” She brought one finger down. “I think three.” She crinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. Some people seem mean, but they’re just shy.” I led her back to the family room to have dinner.

After dinner, Bridget washed up and I tucked her in bed.

“Which book would you like for me to read to you?” I sat up with pillows behind my back.

“This one.” She handed me a book from under her covers, stretched her arms to the ceiling, and yawned.

“Unicorn Goes to School. This should be fun.” I ran my hand down the colorful, glittery cover. The unicorn was dressed like a child with a backpack.

I opened the book to read. About half way through the story, Bridget’s eyes fluttered and then finally closed. I should go downstairs to my designated room, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to spend the night. Leonardo and I had forgotten to talk about that detail. I had to wait for him to come home either way, so I closed my eyes, intending to wait there until Leonardo came home.

I’ll go home when he gets here. But between Bridget’s soft breathing and the warm glow of lamplight next to me on the nightstand, I dozed off.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Leonardo must be home. I tried to pry open my reluctant eyes, but they were too heavy.

The door creaked and then more footsteps. When no other sounds came, I tried to talk, but exhaustion dragged me back toward sleep.

Something warm covered my body. I shifted slightly to see a blurry image of Leonardo, looking at me, or Bridget, or both.

I should get up. Go home or go to the spare room. Groggily, I pushed the cover. “I’ll be on my way,” I murmured.

He rested his hand on my shoulder and I sagged back into the pillow, unable to resist.

“No, stay,” he whispered. “I mean, it’s late. Spend the night.”

In my state of mind, his words sounded more intimate than they should. “Okay. Anything for you,” I mumbled breathlessly.

“Goodnight, Bridget. Goodnight, Kate,” he said.

The sincerity and the tenderness in his voice made me picture a husband coming home from a late night at the office and kissing his wife and daughter goodnight.

A girl could dream.

Some words tumbled out of me through the fog of sleep, and I had no idea what I’d said. A light chuckle filtered through my almost-dreaming state. I hoped I’d said goodnight back to him and didn’t ask about his date. I knew I should stop talking, so I surrendered to the night.

Chapter Twenty-Two — The Next Morning

The sunlight beamed through the shutters. I turned to my side to escape the brightness. Yawning, I stretched my arms and bumped into the headboard. A giant unicorn with rainbow-colored horn came into focus. Bridget’s room. I wiped drool off my face and sat up.

For a heartbeat, I thought I’d slept at a stranger’s place. I had the same sense of disorientation as when I’d once stayed too late at a college party.

I was safe. And ... wearing the same clothes I had worn last night. Worse, no Bridget on her bed.

I shuffled out to the hallway. The smell of eggs and bacon drifted up the stairs. I went into the kitchen to see Bridget sitting on the stool,