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“Pogs?” Lucas says, and I look up to see him grinning at me. “Showing your age, baby.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him, listening to him laugh.
“Daddy, can I go show Libby what Courtney got me?” Madeline asks as soon as she’s unwrapped the other two toys.
“Sure, honey.” He nods.
She gets up, smiling at me one more time before skipping toward the front counter, where Libby is standing and talking with an older woman with red hair.
“Trying to buy my girl?” At Lucas’s question, my head flies around and my heart drops to my stomach.
“I . . .”
“I get why you did it, but you don’t have to.” He reaches across the table to hold my hand. “She likes you already.”
“She does?”
“She said she likes your voice—and how nice you were to her even after she puked on you.”
“Oh.”
“Relax, baby. I wouldn’t have you here with us if I didn’t know that you already belonged.”
“That’s what Abby said, too,” I admit, dropping my eyes from his to toy with the napkin on the table.
“What else did Abby say?” he asks.
I look up. “That this is a test . . .”
“Pardon?” He frowns.
“I mean . . . I mean, she thinks that you want to see me and Madeline together to see if this will work or not.”
“Hmm.” He looks over my shoulder.
I wonder what that hmm means, but I don’t get a chance to ask, because Madeline shows back up, sliding in next to me right before a pink cake stand is placed in the middle of our table and our pizza is placed on top of it.
“Enjoy,” says an older Hispanic gentleman with a wink before heading back to the front counter.
“Don’t eat too much, honey. Remember we’re going to get ice cream after we leave here,” Lucas says as he slides a piece of pizza onto Madeline’s plate.
“I’ll leave room,” she agrees, taking a bite as Lucas hands me my own slice.
I fold it in half—which is what you have to do with any good New York pizza—and take a bite, fighting back a groan of approval. It’s delicious. The crust and the pepperoni are crisp, the sauce is sweet with a hint of spice, and the cheese is melted to perfection.
“This is the best pizza I have ever had,” I tell Madeline. “The extra cheese is perfect.”
Smiling at me proudly, she leans slightly into my side. In that moment, I fall a little bit in love with a little girl I hardly know.
“I think she’s out,” I whisper to Lucas.
His eyes drop to his side, where Madeline is resting her head under his arm and against his chest.
“Pizza, ice cream, and a carriage ride did her in,” he replies just as quietly.
I smile at him, then look down at his girl once more. “I think I’m in love with her.”
“That’s good, since the feeling is mutual.”
I look up at him. Our eyes lock, and I see something in his gaze that makes me feel warm all over, like the sun when winter finally comes to an end or like lying under a blanket snuggled on the couch when it’s snowing. It’s comforting.
“Tonight has been amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”
It has been amazing. First delicious pizza followed by awesome ice cream, then a carriage ride through the city—something I have wanted to do since I moved here but haven’t been able to do because I didn’t want to go alone. I never once felt like the third wheel with Madeline and Lucas. If anything, Madeline made me feel like I belonged with her and her dad. She always included me when she was talking, leaning into me and asking, “What do you think, Courtney?” or “Isn’t that cool, Courtney?” Yes, it’s safe to say I’m falling in love with her—and maybe even her dad.
When the carriage ride comes to an end, I climb down. Lucas gets out, holding a still-sleeping Madeline against his chest. My own chest warms and my throat gets tight as I watch him kiss the hair on top of her head, then look at me and smile.
Yes, I’m definitely feeling something for him.
“You should catch a cab and get her home,” I tell him as we start walking down one of the few quiet backstreets in the city.
“Let’s ride together. I’ll have the driver drop you first,” he says.
I nod, happy to have a few more minutes with him.
When we finally get a cab and settle into the back, he gives the driver directions to my place. He lets go of Madeline with one hand and links our fingers together. As I study his large hand holding mine, I fight back a sudden rush of emotion as another realization hits me. I’ve always craved affection. A soft touch as a reminder that I belong, that I’m wanted. Tom was somewhat—at the right time, in the right place—affectionate when we first got together, but as time went on he stopped touching me just to touch me and only really did it when it was time to have sex. It made me feel like I was being needy when I attempted to be affectionate with him for no other reason than to show I cared. With Lucas I’m finding that I never have to reach for him—because he’s always there.
