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I picked up a fading Renee. Apparently, being the key entertainment during dinner had taken a lot out of her. “Can you say goodnight to Trent, baby girl?”
Her arms came out and she made grabby hands at Trent, surprising us both by making it obvious she wanted him to take her.
He hesitated for a blink, looking to me for guidance, and reached out to scoop her up once I gave him a small nod.
“Night, Tent,” she mumbled sleepily.
He looked down at her like he was holding a treasure. I knew exactlyhow he felt, because Reneewasa treasure. The most precious one on the face of the earth.
“Good night, Little Bit. Have sweet dreams, yeah?”
I took my daughter back and headed down the hall. I made quick work of her bath and carried her into her bedroom, getting her dressed in her jammies and brushing out her hair before tucking her into her bed.
“Pwincess stowy?” she asked sleepily. When she was like this, all soft and sweet, it was impossible to say no to her. So I sat down beside her, curling her up against me, and started telling her the princess story. I barely made it to the part with the dragon before she was letting out little chuffing snores.
I tiptoed out of her room, closing the door before moving back through the house. The sight of Trent standing at my sink, hand-drying the pot I’d used to boil the pasta, hit me right in the gut—and maybe a bit lower. The man read and hand-washed dishes. There wasn’t a woman alive who’d be immune to that.
“Can I help with anything?”
He looked back over his shoulder, giving me those dimples. Damn him and those dimples! “Nope. Just about done.” He angled his chin toward the counter. “I refilled your glass. You can drink it and keep me company while I finish up.”
I tried to remember a time in my life when a man had actually stepped up to take care of me, even in the smallest way, and realized it had never happened. Even before things went so terribly wrong in my marriage, Graham hadn’t been the type of man to do something as menial as washing the dishes. According to him, that was woman’s work. Hell, he’d never even poured me a glass of wine.
This was a first, and it made those butterflies that had taken up residence in my belly all night long flap around like they’d just chugged a can of Red Bull.
“I can do that,” I said in a voice hoarse with emotion as I moved closer. Grabbing the glass, I turned to face Trent and hopped up on the counter, swinging my legs casually as I took a sip.
“She get to sleep okay?”
“Yep. Out like a light. Didn’t even get through the whole bedtime story before she was sawing logs.”
“She’s a great kid, Sawyer.”
I beamed at that. “I like to think so, but I’m kind of biased.”
“As you should be.” He winked, and the combination of that wink and those dimples nearly made me choke on my wine. “You’ve done an incredible job with her.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice infused with warmth at his compliment. “But honestly, she makes it easy.”
“If that’s the case, it’s because she learned it from you.”
Gah! Seriously. This dude was something straight out of one of Georgia’s romance novels!
“Feel free to tell me to mind my own business if I’m crossing a line, but... is her dad in the picture?”
The next sip—much bigger that the one before it—went down a little harder at his question. It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was coming. I was a single mother, it wasn’t exactly out of the norm for people to wonder where her father was. Didn’t mean hearing it ever got any easier.
“It’s fine. And no, he’s not. It’s just me and Renee, and that’s best for both us. He was just some guy from the past. No one important.” Yet another lie I wanted desperately to be true.
“Then you really are amazing.”
Well, that cut through the sudden wave of melancholy. “Why do you say that?” I asked, surprised at the vehemence in his tone.
“Because you created that back there,” he pointed in the direction of Renee’s bedroom, “and you did it all by yourself. That little girl is smart and funny and happy. She’s full of life. All because of you.”
An embarrassing wave of tears hit my eyes, making them sting. I dropped my head, hiding behind the curtain of my hair before he could see them, working frantically to blink them back.
But apparently I hadn’t been fast enough, because a second later, I felt his fingers beneath my chin, applying pressure and lifting my gaze to his. Concern and worry swam through all that smoke in his eyes.
