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I swat at Kel’s arm. “She’s only twenty-six. She should be having fun and making mistakes, not trying to solve the world’s problems and studying all the time. I’m glad Cammie is dragging her to Vegas, maybe she’ll actually have a little fun. Make a bad decision or two.”
We untangle ourselves as my phone dings that the wash cycle is finished. Kel insists on helping me move the sheets into the dryer before he heads home to Olive.
“Do you want to come over for dinner? Olive has been begging to have you over again.”
A funny kind of anticipation, different to the butterflies I feel when I’m with Kel, fills my stomach. When Olive took my hand and dragged me down the hill toward her dad all those weeks ago, I’d been hit with the same feeling. I’d brushed it off then because of how flustered I’d been by Kel, but I think this is something else.
“I’d love to.”
A riot of brunette curls bounces toward me as I climb out of my car. “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie!” Olive sings as she screeches to a halt two feet away. “Look!” She breaks out into what I think is a version of the latest TikTok dance craze. It’s a little hard to tell, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“Wow, Olive. That’s great.” I open my arms and she barrels into me, her face pressed into my belly.
“Daddy and I cooked dinner and dessert. We made a roast, but it’s still in the oven.” She pulls back and grabs my hand, tugging me toward the front door. “Is your foot better now? Did you have to get a cast? Daddy said you were fine, but I didn’t really believe him.” Olive swings our joined hands with each question, skipping beside me.
“My foot is all better now. I didn’t have to get a cast, but I did have to wear a funny boot for a few weeks.” I don’t tell her that it’s still a little achy in the mornings, because I’m pretty sure that’s just the result of being thirty and a former dancer.
She pushes open the door and the scent of roasting meat hits me. Hunger joins the riot of emotion in my stomach as I take everything in.
Kel’s house is sparkling clean, a faint scent of cleaner discernable under the smell of dinner. The table is set and a huge bouquet of flowers sits in a vase in the center. I get a good look at Olive and notice the knees of her pants are clean, as are her hands.
We didn’t talk about how soon we were going to introduce the concept of us dating to Olive. I hang back by the door, unsure how familiar to be with him in front of the little girl I already love just as much as her father.
Kel is in the kitchen, chopping something. A plain white apron covers his front but doesn’t hide the flannel sleeves rolled up to reveal his corded forearms. Heat flares in my core at the sight, but I remind myself that while period sex on my own sheets is one thing, I’m not ready to make that kind of mess at Kel’s freshly cleaned house.
I do, however, have no shame about admiring his firm ass in those jeans as he turns to the fridge.
“Daddy, can I show Maggie the video on your phone?” Olive lets go of my hand to bounce into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I say, waving from my spot near the door.
Kel’s face breaks out into a huge smile when he sees me. “Hi.” In a few steps, he’s swinging me up in his arms, planting a kiss right on my lips.
“Oh, well. I guess that answers that question.” I laugh, my legs dangling in the air. Leaning in, I kiss him back, my hands resting on either side of his face. “Oh my god, you smell good.” His cologne is earthy and smells slightly like tobacco.
“What question? If I’m happy to see you?” Kel sets me down before slipping my coat off my shoulders and hanging it up beside his.
I glance at Olive, who’s watching us with wide eyes. “Um, if we were going to tell Olive…”
Olive’s stare transforms into a grin. “Daddy told me you’re his girlfriend and that I’m going to get to hang out with you lots and lots now.”
She’s so clearly happy about the idea that my nerves evaporate. Kel squeezes me one more time before excusing himself to finish cooking dinner.
Olive runs over to pull his phone from his pocket before rushing back to me, flipping open to TikTok. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a TikTok guy,” I call to Kel as he pulls a large dish out of the oven.
“I’m not. June, Shelby, and I decided that since she was determined to watch the videos, we would all keep the same account logged in on our phones so we could supervise. And mine has a limit set on it for thirty minutes a day.”
The smell of whatever he’s cooking has my mouth watering. Olive’s tummy rumbles loudly while she’s snuggled up next to me, showing me the dance she was trying to learn.
We’ve just started our fourth watch of the video when the app shuts down. “Oh man, time’s up.” Olive’s bottom lip protrudes as her arms cross over her chest. “I really wanted to practice it with you.”
“Well, guess what? We can still practice it.” I look at Kel, but he’s still busy in the kitchen. “Did your dad tell you I used to be a dancer?”
Olive’s eyes go wide. “You were?”
“Yup, all the way through high school. In fact, I bet my mom still has some of my competition trophies in the basement.” I never thought my old days dancing would win me cool points, but I’ll take anything I can get. I pull the song up on my phone and help Olive practice some of the trickier bits.
Kel has to call our names several times to get our attention when dinner is ready—Olive and I are busy dancing around the living room. My knees are not as young as they used to be, but I’m having so much fun I don’t care.
