Page 74 of Seven Summers Ago
But I know it’s not my place to ask Charlie. The last thing I want is to confuse her. Rosie is right about one thing—she’s only six, she can’t possibly know what she wants.
I cut out of work early. It pisses Milo off, but he understands. I’m no help anyway because all I can think about is seeing my daughter while she’s in town.
“You owe me,” Milo hollers while I’m hopping into my rig.
I shoot him a glare. “Boy, your whole life is an open bar tab.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, knowing good and well I’m joking. But also right.
I send a quick text to Rosie.
On my way
Rosie
Okay. Charlie is ready
I put the truck in drive and tear off in the direction of Dottie’s cottage, my head swishing with all the things that are up in the air. Keeping my anxiety at bay proves to be even more challenging while my relationship with Rosie is still unsettled. My brain knows I need to sign the divorce e-doc sitting in my email inbox, but my heart saysnot yet.
Call it hope or call it plain stupidity, but I’ll know when it’s time. And now just isn’t it.
When I pull into the driveway, Rosie and Charlie are sitting on the back steps. They both stand as I park and jump out. I round the back, and Rosie is already handing me the car seat.
“Hey, here’s her booster.” Her long, auburn hair shields her face, like she doesn’t want to risk making eye contact with me.
Did I miss something?
“Thanks.” I take it and Charlie flings her arms around my leg. I crouch so I can bring her into my chest. “Hey, Charlie girl. I missed you.”
She giggles against my chest and my heart expands. It’s like she’s always meant to be right here. In my arms, face pressed to my heart, where I can keep her safe and hear her sweet laughter.
“Looks like you’re ready to go,” I say, more to Rosie because she’s acting like she can’t get me out of here fast enough.
I stand and Rosie gives a backpack to Charlie, but she says to me, “I packed some snacks for her. And her favorite blanket.”
“Hey?” I call to Rosie and bob my head around until I’ve caught her attention. Her green eyes are striking, but wary. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Her lips flatten.
I scrunch my brows together and tilt my head, not buying the BS she’s serving up. She forgets—I know her.
“You’re fine with me taking her, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” she mutters, but her gaze flicks away again and she crosses her arms, her green tank top hugging tighter against her chest. Like a moth to a flame, my eyes can’t help but be drawn to her luscious cleavage.
I clear my throat and take Charlie’s backpack from her. “Charlie girl, why don’t you go climb in the truck.”
“Okay, bye, Mama.” She gives Rosie a big hug and races to the back door of my rig.
I lean in closer to Rosie, her floral but citrusy scent filling my nose. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
She forces a smile and replies, “Yeah, I trust you.”
Still not buying it, I try a different angle. “Are you mad?”
She frowns. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
I hunch a shoulder. “I don’t know. Because I’m taking Charlie. Because I’m not taking you. Hell, I don’t know.”
