Page 46 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Emme and my dad get mad at me.”

“Well, they’re crazy.”

That made her giggle.

“But you should probably get back to bed before your dad—”

“Aya?” Bennett’s voice tinged with panic swept through the closed bedroom door. “Aya?” He shuffled down the hallway, presumably to check the bathroom. “Em, where’s your sister?”

“I dunno.”

Justine gave Aya a look that said she needed to come clean and the little girl nodded, her cheeks getting rosier as she prepared to meet her fate. Justine escorted her to the door and opened it just as Bennett was lifting his fist to knock.

“Hi, Dad.”

Relief banished the worry on his face. But as quickly as that relief came, it was gone, replaced with what could only be a melee of embarrassment and irritation.

“Aya Lucia—”

“I know, Dad. You don’t need to say all my names. I’m sorry.” She glanced up at Justine. “Eat some dessert. It’ll make you feel better.” Then she muttered another apology to her father and with hunched shoulders, walked herself to her room.

Bennett’s mouth hung open, his eyes just as wide as he watched his youngest child put herself back to bed. Emme was brushing her teeth in the doorway of the bathroom watching it all with mild interest. “I told you she would sneak out,” she said, shaking her head, then returning to the bathroom to spit.

Bennett rolled his eyes at Emme before returning his gaze to Justine. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really, it’s okay. In fact, I appreciate her coming. She’s very mature for seven.”

His eyes formed thin slits. “She’s exasperating for seven.”

“Aren’t all seven-year-olds exasperating?”

“Maybe. She just seems more so.”

“She’s clever, and sweet, and empathic. She’s a joy. Both girls are.”

Emme emerged from the bathroom in a pair of pajama pants with heart-shaped cherries on them, and a black T-shirt. She gave a big yawn before tying her curly brown hair up into a ponytail on the top of her head like a pineapple. “Mom taught us this,” she said. “Keeps the curls from getting too crazy while we sleep.” She smiled sleepily at her dad. “’Night, Dad.”

“Good night, Sunshine.” He ran his hand over the back of her head and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be in to tuck you in in just a sec.”

She yawned again. “’Night, Justine.”

“Goodnight, Emme.”

Emerson smiled and disappeared into her room, which was on the other side of the bathroom.

Bennett glanced once more at Justine. “I’m sorry if we overwhelmed you. You absolutely don’t have to eat with us. And please don’t let my daughters bully you into it. Disappointment won’t kill them.”

A smile tried to grace her mouth, but it didn’t work. “It’s nice to be invited and included in things. I just … I got in my head. I’m sorry I left so abruptly.”

“No need to apologize.”

God, she hated how formal and stiff their interactions were now. It felt wooden and fake. Did he feel it too? Did it feel as awkward and frustrating for him as it did her?

“Well, goodnight. And there is still sorbet in the freezer. You’re welcome to it.” He smiled once more, this time a sad smile that left the corners of his eyes untouched, then disappeared into Emme’s room.

Justine didn’t wait around to see him leave Emme’s room, and quickly sequestered herself back into her little hovel. It was only eight thirty, but she was used to retiring early, given that she got up at five o’clock to run.

With a heavy sigh, she climbed into bed and reached for her book. She was determined to get through at least a few of the paperbacks she brought with her—even if it killed her.

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