Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
There I go again, listing the reasons I can’t be with her. Why does this keep coming up?
I plucked the bag from her hands. “What’s this?”
“A present for Tricky.”
“Elizabeth. As hilarious as she finds the nickname, generally I prefer not to encourage the mischievous side of my six-year-old.” I stuck my hand through the tissue paper.
“You know, it’s customary to let the giftee open their present first.”
Naturally, I ignored this. I trusted Mackenzie—a fact that surprised me. But nothing went to Lizzie that wasn’t checked by me or Thatcher first, ever since Lizzie climbed in the car with a present the nice man waiting outside her preschool gave her to give to me. That was the end of private school and surprise presents.
I tugged out the jacket, letting the bag fall to the floor. “This is... wow.”
I swear, I am an articulate man—just not in her presence it seemed. Mackenzie promised to sew Elizabeth the jacket of her dreams. My daughter would take one look at this and hug her for breaking that promise, and making her something better.
The whole thing was crafted in iridescent leather—blues, purples, and white catching the light and sparkling like my kid’s favorite mythical animal. On the back, a unicorn with flaming glitter hooves reared. I traced the intricate thread work that brought it to life.
“Incredible, Mackenzie. Elizabeth’s going to love it.”
“I’m so glad. It’ll put a smile on her face, and it got you to call me Mackenzie again. This little jacket has exceeded all my hopes.”
I snorted. Carefully, I draped the jacket on the couch. “I’m envious of those who create such beauty. My father’s a painter,” I confessed. “He tried to teach me, but you either have the talent or you don’t. There’s no question that you do.”
“All these compliments will make a girl blush.”
That wasn’t a cute quip. She really was blushing.
Sexy and adorable. “You’re becoming a problem, Mackenzie.”
She blinked. “What?”
“So, I’m putting you and those artist’s hands to work. Come with me.”
“Putting me to work? Goodness, do I need to tell you my safe word?”
I veered off course, beelining for my room and a change of pants. Something that hid my hardening ridge.
Yes, she was definitely going to be a problem.
MACKENZIE
Putting me to work turned out to mean helping him paint fairies, unicorns, and mermaids on Tricky’s wall. Liam wanted it to be a surprise for her when she got back, and damn him, it was so sweet, I jumped at the opportunity to help him, forgetting I was angry at his treating me like a child who needed protecting.
Liam held me on his shoulders, lifting me up to paint dancing fairies near the ceiling above her bed. They would watch over her while she slept.
“You don’t have to worry, Liam.” His head was between my legs. He gave me pants to change into before we started. The shirt was a little short and obviously not his. It exposed my midriff, allowing his hair to tickle me as he tipped his chin. “You’re not destroying her childhood. Elizabeth wouldn’t be happier with a normal dad or a normal life. All she needs is a family that loves her as much as you guys do.”
“That you felt compelled to tell me this makes me wonder if you think I’m overcompensating with all the toys and redecorating?”
My brush halted on the fairy’s wing. “Or I’m saying to you what I need to hear.”
“I will.” Liam traced small circles on my ankle, rippling shivers up my leg. “If you want me to.”
“No,” I said, voice shaking. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have opened that door. But I do have a question and I hope you don’t mind me asking. When did you know you were ready to date again?”
Liam hadn’t stopped drawing designs on my skin. It was highly distracting. “Who says I ever figured that out?”
“You’re with Hendrix. This crop top isn’t yours and it’s obviously not Lizzie’s. She’s snuggling with you in the hallway. She’s taking her clothes off in your apartment. You’re dating.”
A laugh rumbled out of his chest. “You shot that off like the evidence at my trial.”
“Anyway,” I forced out. “Sounds like it was a rough split between you and your daughter’s mom. How long did it take for you to get out there again? Accept that you could trust someone and let them into her life?”
“You’re asking two questions.” Liam made his way down, kneading the arch of my foot. It felt so good my eyes fluttered shut. “When Elizabeth was six months old and started doing this miraculous thing called sleeping through the night, I started dating again—casually. As for when I trusted someone else with her, I’ll let you know when that happens.”
I smiled wryly. “Nine months or six years. I guess it never gets easier.”
“Not for us,” Liam confessed, “due to the experiences we’ve been through. Giselle can abandon me a thousand times. It’d never hurt as much as her abandoning Elizabeth. The day I had to explain to my four-year-old why her mom lived so far away and never visited her...”