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“Kylie, will you read me a story tonight?” Luddy asks. She’s half asleep, which will make getting her ready for bed difficult.
“I’d be happy to.”
“Daddy, carry me to bed.” With her arms outstretched, I easily scoop her off the couch and carry her upstairs. Kylie follows, and for the second time tonight, I have to swallow back the longing tearing at my chest. It’s so easy to imagine this being our future, but there’s no fucking way I can ever tell her how I feel.
She’s not even divorced yet. The shit she had to put up with from her ex all these years would do a number on anyone. Kylie’s heart is so fucking soft that I know it’s killing her on the inside that Chris turned out to be an even bigger asshole than we all thought he was.
And things are going to get ugly once he’s served the divorce papers. The fight we’ll have on our hands will be exhausting.
The last thing she needs is my horny brain trying to interfere with her journey toward healing after the mess her ex created.
“Okay, little monster. Time for pj’s, and then we’ll pick out a book.” I set London down in the middle of her tornado of a room. After she gets changed and brushes her teeth, we pick out a book to read. She demands that Kylie and I lie down with her while we read the story. Naturally, we both oblige her.
Luddy’s asleep before Kylie can finish the story.
Our gazes lock over the top of Luddy’s blond head. Everything I’ve ever wanted is in those brown eyes looking back at me.
But that way lies madness, and I’m already crazy enough as it is.
I press a kiss to London’s forehead, grateful that whatever happens between Kylie and me, I will always have her. I thank my lucky stars that I got her out of a situation that could’ve turned ugly really fast.
It makes me sad for Kylie because I know Chris is going to fight tooth and nail over their child just to spite Kylie for daring to divorce him. He doesn’t want anything to do with their kid. He’s a womanizer, and a child would get in the way of being able to do whatever he wants.
Holt won’t let Chris get away with the bullshit he’ll try to pull. We already have plenty of documentation about Chris’s movements and his typical work hours. I can’t imagine any judge would award him full custody based on his hours alone. But it’s not going to stop Chris from trying to make this as hard as possible just to be an asshole.
Kylie and I go back to the living room, wordlessly settling on the couch together. I quickly pick an episode from one of our favorite TV shows we’ve watched a million times and then tap her leg, silently indicating for her to give me her foot.
She hesitates for a second before turning to drape her legs across my lap. Her sigh of relief as I dig my thumb into her arch is well worth the echoes of pain in my chest, knowing I won’t be able to do this for her forever.
“Sometimes I have this dream where the two of us are together all the time, taking care of London and Peanut. Isn’t that strange?” Kylie’s out-of-the-blue question makes my heart pound.
“Maybe not. You’re my best friend, Ladybug. Taking care of our kids together wouldn’t be strange at all.” Can she hear the desire in my voice? The straight yearning I feel for that exact future?
“That’s true. Doing life with you would be amazing.”
I finally find the courage to look at her. She stares back, her brown eyes searching my face just as much as I’m searching hers. I’m not sure if either of us finds what we’re looking for.
“Yeah, Ladybug. It would be.”
CHAPTER 15
Kylie
“Skipping out of work already?” Beverly props her hands on her hips as she raises an eyebrow at me.
I freeze in my tracks, staring at the woman—who could’ve been Liza Minelli’s twin—like a deer in headlights.
She winks at me. “You’d better be. Start the habit of taking lunch now, and you won’t end up a workaholic like the man in there who works through lunch. Speaking of, will you bring him back a sandwich from Marcie’s?”
I exhale a breath of relief. “I can do that. You want me to bring anything for you? I’m going to the Daily Grind with Gia.”
Bev waves her hand in the air. “Nah. I brought my lunch today.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Whenever,” she calls out as I walk out the door of Basil Law. The red brick building is gorgeously old-school, with wrought-iron trim and a hanging sign that creaks in the wind. Holt showed me around on my first day and told me his youngest brother, Gage, lives in the apartment above the office.
That was only a few days ago, but it feels like I’ve been doing this job forever. Beverly has been the perfect guide to the ins and outs of Holt’s practice. Her organizational skills are immaculate, despite their antiquated tendencies. What’s even better is that I’ll have no issues bringing her system into the twenty-first century.
