Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Emma thrust the thermos back at me. “Can I keep playing?” she demanded.
I glanced past her at Landon. He nodded.
“For a few more minutes. Pop Pop is coming to take you to lunch.”
Emma looked slyly triumphant. She knew as well as I did that Pop Pop would let her play as long as she wanted. “Bye,” she said to Landon.
“Bye,” he murmured, watching her go.
I held my breath, feeling strangely like I was waiting for exam results. What did Landon think of her? Did he see that she was the most wonderful, amazing, overconfident creature to ever walk the earth? Or was he thinking that I’d spoiled her the way my mom accused me of doing?
Now I was the one knitting my fingers together, nerves pulling. When my mom told me Emma was getting spoiled, I rolled my eyes and ignored her. Elyna was a bundle of contradictions when it came to the idea of being spoiled. On one hand, she wanted to give both of us everything she’d never had as a little girl. On the other hand, I occasionally felt something dark and ugly unfurl from some place hidden deep inside of her, like she resented us for having what she herself had given us; the comfort and security that no one had given her. The contradiction was maddening, and it was partly what was motivating me to start my new life. Once I paid Landon back, I’d be beholden to no one. Reliant on no one.
But the thing was, if Landon thought Emma was spoiled, I wouldn’t be able to attribute it to some strange, dark part of his psyche. He might actually be right. And whether he was or wasn’t, I’d resent him for saying it.
“Well?” I finally demanded.
Landon looked at me, uncomprehending. “Well what?”
“What do you think?”
“She’s perfect.”
He said it without embellishment. Like it was a fact. Warmth flooded through me, and I nodded with satisfaction. “I think so, too.”
Landon’s light green eyes found and held mine. I tried to read the expression, but the veil that lifted when he looked at Emma had dropped again. I had no idea what he was thinking as his gaze pressed into mine, but my breath shortened anyway. We’d stared at each other like this too many times in the past not to think about that past. Our heads sideways against the pillows, his hand reaching forward to push a lock of hair off my throat. Times I’d pillowed my chin with my hands and rested on his chest, staring down at him, wondering what he was thinking. Looked at him from across a bistro table with a nearly empty bottle of wine between us, the sun warm on my bare shoulders.
All those memories and more came rushing back, a floodgate created by our eye contact. And then, abruptly, he looked back at the playground, and the gates closed. The memories of warmth and intimacy receded. Though the sun was still beating down overhead, I felt like a shadow had passed over us.
I wanted to reach for him, turn his face back to mine, see if he felt even a trace of what I still did. But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t fall back in love with him.
9
LANDON
The way I felt about Emma was like nothing I’d ever experienced. An instant connection. An almost painful, overwhelming kind of love. It wasn’t pleasant. It was like someone was trying to ram a brick down my throat. It felt chokingly tight and scratched like hell. I swallowed again and again, but I couldn’t dislodge it. I could only try to breathe and think around it.
I couldn’t help how I felt about my daughter. That was biology. But I was damned if I was going to feel anything for her mother. I’d let her get too close once, and it had taken me longer than I cared to admit to get over her.
Robert arrived right at 1:15. It was strange to see him in person after so many hours of watching him on TV. He was even taller in person, even more skeletal, the stoop even more pronounced. Despite the heat of the day, he wore his trademark black overcoat, unbuttoned, the lapels flapping back like the wings of some giant bird.
He hugged Cami, kissing the side of her head affectionately. Then, with subzero temperatures in his eyes, he held his hand out to me. I shook it. I liked Robert, despite his obvious distaste for me. And now that I had a daughter of my own, I understood it completely. I’d do more than stare icily at men Emma brought around when she was older. They’d be lucky to be able to walk away from the encounters if I didn’t like them.
“Emma, Pop Pop is here,” Cami called into the bustling play structure. A dark head popped out of one of the tunnels, and pale green eyes found her mother’s. A quick, decisive nod, and then she disappeared again. Moments later, we watched her emerge from the throng of kids.