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The woman pulled her eyes away from Tori without so much as a fake smile, and spoke down to Rebel. “Let’s go.”
Rebel was on the woman’s hip now, looking so out of place against her tailored suit. Tori’s heart clenched at the sight. Was this woman really supposed to take her? Maybe it wasn’t a case of this woman being Rebel’s parent but a social worker? Though Tori had never seen a social worker look this made-up before. Maybe she was a foster parent? Tori snorted. That idea was ludicrous.
Before Tori could open her mouth again, the woman pivoted on her toe and took Rebel with her. She walked swiftly away, her ass swishing as she went, tight from the height of her heels as they made the same click click click sound they had when she’d approached.
Tori blinked as Rebel looked back over her shoulder, a small smile in place as she gave a half-wave. The turtle tears from before were completely gone, which was the only thing that eased the tension in her stomach. They did belong together, even if Rebel and the cold, icy woman didn’t look like it. Tori gave a wave back, still blinking with her mouth slightly open.
What had just happened?
“Mommy!” The door opened with a flourish, and Harley jumped up into Tori’s embrace. Tori wrapped her arms around her daughter’s waist and squeezed her close and tight, taking a deep breath of the scent that could soothe her in an instant. It was the smell of home.
“Hey, Pumpkin.” She let Harley wriggle out of her arms and back to the ground, then planted a kiss on a sticky cheek. “Go get your things ready.”
Harley raced back into the house.
“And wash your face!” Tori called before Harley disappeared into her room. She was still off-kilter from the grocery store incident, but at least with Harley, she’d find her balance again. It would only take a bit of time to forget that woman.
“Hey, Tor. Do you have time for coffee?” the familiar voice echoed from the direction of the kitchen.
Tori smiled. There were worse things in this world than remaining close friends with her ex, the mother of her child. They had managed to find a nice balance after their divorce. It hadn’t taken them all that long either.
“Oh, yes! You know how I can’t resist coffee.” Tori closed the front door and made her way through to the kitchen, stepping over abandoned toys and pieces of scribbled-on paper. It was much the same in her apartment when Harley ran rampant there.
“Hey.” Siena smiled, warm and comforting with her proper greeting.
“Hey yourself.” Tori took the offered mug with a grateful smile and kissed Siena’s cheek. She’d never stopped doing that, even after being separated for years.
Siena eyed Tori over the mug, no doubt seeing everything Tori was trying to hide. “Where’s the poop, Tor?”
“What do you mean?” Tori’s heart skipped a beat. Was she really that obvious? She hated that Siena could still do that to her some days.
“Do you really think I don’t know when you’re flustered?” Siena laughed wryly as she slid onto a chair at the table.
Tori stuttered.
Siena prompted her again. “So?”
Huffing out a breath, Tori prepared to explain. She only hoped she would understand it herself by the end. The same indignation surged through her again, but full force this time now that she had someone to listen to her. “I just met the rudest woman I have ever seen in my life.”
Siena sipped her coffee carefully, eyebrows raised, attention completely on Tori.
“Well, when I say met, what I mean is her child ran full-on into me, fell over, and then she stomped up like Ms. Miranda Priestly and all that. She had the audacity to accuse me of hurting her kid before snagging the kiddo from my arms, turning on her heels, and leaving before I could even answer the question in the first place.”
Siena laughed and put the mug down gently on the table. “So she was hot, huh?”
Tori spluttered, doing a terrible job at hiding the blush that warmed her neck and cheeks. Why did Siena have to be so good at this?
“Oh yeah, she was hot. Was she dressed to the nines, too? You always do like a woman who takes care of herself. Those high-maintenance women.” Siena chuckled.
“I hate you.” Tori laughed as she pointed a finger at her ex-wife.
“No, you don’t.”
“For that I do.”
“Whatever.” Siena stretched her back.
Harley ran into the room, skidding to a halt with a bag attached to her side. It was the one bag that traveled with her from house to apartment. It held her most precious items—blanket and stuffie. Harley couldn’t sleep without them, and both Tori and Siena had made late-night calls when they’d been forgotten.
