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Trophy wife to a man who clearly doesn’t even care to know me? I couldn’t, in good faith, sign up for a life like that. I couldn’t marry the guy, no matter how good he looks on paper.
So I walked away with my integrity and not much else. And now, I’m anxiously bracing myself for the consequences of that decision.
I’m not too sure what’s the next step on this new life path of mine. But I’m not opposed to laying here in Nolan’s home office all day while I try to figure it out. There’s just something about being here that gives me a strong sense of comfort and familiarity, one I didn’t even realize I needed after what I’ve been through over the past few months.
Comfort. Familiarity. Yeah—that’s all this is.
Look, Nolan Brighton is hot. But let’s be realistic here. I’m looking for a husband and Nolan is the last candidate who’d ever apply for the job.
As many women around Starlight Falls have learned the hard way over the years, his daughter is the only girl he makes room for inside his heart. Calling that man emotionally distant is an understatement. That’s not what I’m looking for at this point in my life.
The grumpy single dad is decidedly not on my romantic radar.
But I’m totally gonna let myself enjoy the experience of being wrapped up in his linens this morning. I roll over on the lumpy couch, moaning quietly into the cushions, just enjoying Nolan’s scent.
The sound of tiny giggles jolts me. I blink awake, turning my head and coming eye-to-eye with the most adorable blond pigtails and a toothless smile.
The moment I show signs of life, the little girl drops her one-eyed rag doll to the floor and leaps on me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Inez! You’re awake!”
I laugh despite the pain of a bony knee poking me in the ribs. “My sweet Stella!” I grin at her. I squeeze her tight.
Then I brace my hands on the cushions and sit up on Nolan’s groovy 1970s grandma chic couch. That’s when I notice the holes and tears in the fabric. I didn’t notice them last night. Probably because as soon as Nolan walked out of here, I changed into his T-shirt, flipped off the lights, collapsed into the scratchy velour cushions and fell dead-asleep.
Stella starts hitting me with a hundred questions in quick succession. “Why are you sleeping in my house? You don’t have a house you can sleep in? What happened to your house? Do you live here in my house now? With my Daddy and me?”
I chuckle softly as my brain struggles to keep up with the rapid fire interrogation. “I just needed somewhere to stay for the night,” I tell the little girl when she finally stops for a breath.
She crawls further into my lap and starts playing with my hair. “You could have slept in my bed. Because I slept at my Gaga’s house across the yard last night. I stay with my Gaga when my Daddy’s at work, you know? And then he picks me up for school in the morning. But I don’t have to go to school today. Because it’s Saturday-y-y-y-y!” She throws her tiny arms up and hollers at the ceiling. “On Saturdays, I have my extracurricular.”
Except she pronounces the word more like, ‘extra-coo-li-cooler’ and my chest almost explodes at all the cuteness.
As she speaks, Stella bounces excitedly, and I hang onto every word, wondering how Nolan keeps up with all this energy, especially after a long night working at the bar. Poor guy.
This adorable child is her father’s polar opposite. She’s charming and outgoing and the life of the party. Well, at least that’s how she’s always been with me.
I’ve seen the shy side of her. It comes out when she’s around people she doesn’t know. But to her, I’ve never been a stranger. I’ve been around since she was a baby. To her, I’m just Inez.
Perched on my lap, Stella continues absently playing with my messy hair as she rambles.
She’s always liked running her little fingers through it, brushing it, or tying it up in knots while she practices her braiding skills. And I’m always game to let her do her thing.
Besides, it feels so nice. I never had anyone to play with my hair as a kid.So every time Stella combs my hair, I feel like she’s the one doing me a favor.
“Today, I have my piano lessons and my French tutoring. I used to do ballet, but I don’t like ballet, so Daddy said that maybe I can do tap dance and CPR classes next. But I really hope I get to—”
“Stella!”
My heart leaps into my windpipe when a sexy devil rushes into the room.
Shirtless.
Nolan is wearing gray sweatpants with a damp bath towel hung around his shoulders and water droplets dripping from his wet, messy hair.
“I told you not to bug Inez. She’s tired.” He gently scolds his daughter.
“Bug me? Are you silly or what?” I scoff as the child ducks behind me, peeking at her dad from over my shoulder with a big, fat grin on her face. “Stella could never bug me. She’s my favorite little human.”
“I’m a favorite little human,” Stella sings, and I rise from the couch, stretching my achy limbs.
