Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Okay,” she finally answered. “What time?”
I managed to not fist-pump. Barely. It was close.
“Nine on Saturday. Unless you’d rather grab dinner first? I know some great—”
“Nope, nine is great.”
Small steps, Montgomery.
“Okay, see you then.”
She nodded and damn-near ran back to her house in obvious retreat.
I blocked off Saturday evening on the calendar using my phone and grinned the whole way to the school. We got there thirteen minutes early.
Fin held her head extra high as we walked in through the front double doors. We turned left at the end of the short hall and passed a pair of classrooms, one that had the door propped open.
“Aunt Brie!” Finley dropped my hand and ran toward her aunt, who was seated behind her desk and a pile of papers.
“Hey, Finley!” Brie got out of her chair and gave Fin a hug.
“What are you doing here so late?” I asked, leaning against one of her students’ desks.
“Well, I’m grading papers, and I knew this little lady had orientation tonight, so I thought I’d wish her luck! Let’s get a picture!” She took her cell phone from the desk and snapped a picture of Fin.
“Do you like my dress?” Fin asked, spinning with a squeak against the linoleum floor.
“Very glamorous. And look at your hair!” she gushed. “If that’s not the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Morgan did it!”
“Did she?” Brie shot me a raised eyebrow. “Well, I love it! That Morgan sure is talented, isn’t she?”
“Yes! And she’s going out with Daddy next weekend!” Fin clapped.
Oh, shit.
“Fin, it’s not like a date-date,” I told her. We were going to have to discuss expectations. I didn’t need Fin’s heart set on something that wasn’t even on the table right now. “And how do you even know?”
She looked at me sheepishly. “My iPad told me.”
Right. She had access to the family calendar and got notifications—my bad. But— “When exactly did your iPad tell you?”
She pressed her lips in a little line.
“Fin?”
“When we left the house.”
“You snuck your iPad into the car? Where? How?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Under my jacket.” She shrugged unapologetically.
“That’s why you didn’t argue about putting it on,” I mused, giving my daughter a point for pure mischievousness. “But I didn’t say you could bring it. Tech stays home.”
Her eyes darted from Brie’s to mine and back again. “You didn’t say I couldn’t bring it…”
“She has you there,” Brie acknowledged. “What do you say we walk you down to the kindergarten rooms?”
“Yes, please!” Finley bounced with excitement.
We walked out of Brie’s room and almost ran right into one of Fin’s friends from preschool, which meant Fin was already starting down the hall with Julie, no longer caring about an escort.
I glanced at the door that would be Morgan’s next year.
“She’s not just some tourist, you know,” Brie said softly, motioning toward the door. “If you start something with her and it ends badly, I’m the one stuck hearing about it at work, and more importantly, it will affect Fin.”
“Is that why you told Claire about Morgan?” I questioned as we passed bulletin boards full of artwork.
She gave me an indignant scoff. “I told my sister because she has a right to know that you’re putting yourself in a position to move on.”
“I moved on years ago.”
“Not emotionally, you didn’t. I know Claire is…Claire, but she’s still my sister, and I’m just looking out for her.”
“I like Morgan. I’m taking her out. I didn’t say that we were hopping a flight to Vegas. Fin, baby, wait up!” I called down the hall.
Fin paused outside the kindergarten doors.
“I just wish—”
I turned, halting us both. “You wish she was Claire. That’s your baggage. Not mine. Now I’m going to take my daughter into her orientation. The daughter who once again doesn’t have her mother here. I’ll see you later, Brie.” With a curt nod, I left her standing in the hall and headed for Fin.
I wasn’t the only single parent there, but I was the only single dad. The usual onslaught of complicated emotions didn’t hit me this time, though. Fin wasn’t looking around, sad that her own mother hadn’t come—that was my baggage, not hers. She was busy twirling in her dress and showing everyone her crown braid.
But then again, how could she miss someone she’d never really had?
…
“Oh, come on!” Sawyer begged as he spotted me the next night.
I pushed the bar through my final rep and set it back on the rack.
“Don’t give him shit about it,” Garrett muttered from the pull-up station.
We’d already flown a patrol, and we were doing what any man of logic would normally do at one a.m.—working out in the station gym to keep from falling asleep.
“Sorry, man, you’re on your own,” I told Sawyer as I sat up.
“I made arrangements,” he whined. “There are two of them. Two. Cousins. What am I supposed to tell them?” He followed me as I headed for the leg press.