Page 86 of Imperfect Arrangement
I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at her. “And what’sthatsupposed to mean?”
“Just saying.” She shrugs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re a very self-reliant woman.”
Her eyebrows wiggle in a way that screams she’s referencing my text from last night—the one aboutnot getting there by myself.But the joke’s on her, because this “self-reliant” woman definitely had some help last night, and she’s still recovering from it. Before I can come up with a comeback, I hear the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet in the hallway.
Moments later, Quill bursts into the room, her face lighting up as she holds a giant plastic fish toy high in the air.
Seeing her like this—playful, carefree, and every bit her age—does something to my chest. It’s light, warm, full.
Daisy opens her arms wide, and Quill scurries into them. “I want my kid to be just as cute as you, Bug,” she says, squeezing her gently.
Quill covers her mouth with one small hand, her frame vibrating with silent laughter as she wiggles out of Daisy’s embrace and moves closer to me.
“Can we go to the pool?” she signs before swishing her fish toy through the air like it’s swimming in imaginary waves.
“I wouldloveto float in a pool right now. Anything to take the pressure off my feet,” Daisy groans, rubbing her baby bump. “But sadly, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“Your swimsuit will be here in the next few minutes, my dear wife,” says the deep voice from the doorway.
The three of us jump and turn to find Charles leaning casually against the frame, his phone disappearing into his pocket. He’s wearing a grin so wide I almost double-check to see if it’s real. Until a few months ago, I didn’t think this man had the facial muscles for a smile, but now he’s acting like he’s auditioning for a romantic comedy.
“Where did you come from?” I ask, raising a brow.
“Hello to you too, Willow,” he says, sauntering into the room with an exaggerated air of charm. “To answer your question, I’m always wherever my wife is.”
I glance at Daisy, who looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “Hasn’t he become quite charming?” I mutter, tilting my head toward him.
She shrugs, clearly enjoying her husband’s transformation.
Charles scoops Quill into his arms. “Can you blame me? I’m about to be a dad,” he says, his tone softening. He looks at Quill with a grin. “And you, Quillbug, are about to be a big cousin. Are you ready?”
Quill nods seriously, her little face determined, and my heart squeezes so tight it hurts. I already know she’s going to be incredible in the new role. Kind, caring, and protective. She’d be everything a cousin could ever need.
But the bittersweet reminder hits me like a cold slap to the face. I won’t be here to see it.
The work on the wedding estate is picking up pace, and every tick of the clock is a step closer to the end of my time with Raymond and Quill. I push the thought away before it can take root.
“Guess we’re swimming, then,” I say to Quill. “Let’s get you changed.”
Taking her tiny hand in mine, I lead her toward the door. But as I glance over my shoulder, I catch sight of Charles leaning down to kiss Daisy on the forehead. It’s simple and sweet, yet my brain betrays me and catapults me straight back to last night.
Strong hands. Possessive touch. Heat?—
Quill jerks her hand from my grasp, pulling me back to reality. I look down, horrified to realize I’ve been squeezing her little fingers too tightly.
You’re going to hell for lusting over your single-dad-boss-slash-fake-fiancé right next to his daughter.
“Crap,” I mutter, dropping to my knees in front of her. “Bug, I’m so sorry. I was…just…thinking something.”
She signs, “You okay?”
I nod quickly, clearing my throat to cover my embarrassment. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Before we leave, I toss a pointed look over my shoulder at Charles and Daisy. “And you two, please don’t do anything dirty in my room. I’m running low on bleach.”
Daisy bursts into laughter, holding her belly as she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, we’re notthatinsatiable, Willow.”
But Charles folds his arms, his face completely unreadable as he says, “Someone definitely is. But I’m far too possessive of my wife to do anything in someone else’s bedroom.”
