Soraya would be over there now, arguing her right to take Remy.
God, it took everything in my power not to run over there and back him up. To tell her what a wonderful father Wes was. How much he cared for Remy. How she was his entire world.
But I would only make things worse. I would only hurt his case.
So I perched on my stool at my painting table. A paintbrush was in one hand, the once-baked platter in the other. It was time to get it glazed, along with the few other pieces that were ready, before I gave them the final fire in the kiln.
“Joy!”
I spun around at Remy’s little voice.
She ran to me and wrapped herself around my legs in an awkward hug. I set my things down and hugged her back. My chest constricted like a tight band was wrapped around my ribs.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her.
It had only been a day, but I missed her.
“Does your dad know you’re over here?”
She shook her head against my thighs. I picked her up and plopped her on the table. One of her rain boots fell off and dropped to the concrete floor.
“Sweetie, you aren’t allowed to be here without your dad’s permission. Remember how scared he was last time?”
“That smelly lady is here,” she said, cutting me off.
Right. I looked up but couldn’t see through the garage wall to Wes’ house. Were they trying to take Remy? Was she over here hiding?
“Soraya?” I didn’t know if Wes had told her that she was her mother.
Remy’s eyes filled with tears. “Her. She says I have to go with her. You have to come and tell them you’re my real mommy, and I don’t need her.”
Oh boy. Instantly, tears sprung to my eyes. “That’s not how it works, sweetie. She is your mommy.”
Remy shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears. “SHE IS NOT!” she shouted. “I WON’T GO WITH HER!”
I didn’t blame her one bit. If there was a moment for a tantrum, this was it.
“Your daddy is making it right. Don’t you worry.”
He’d prove to Soraya that he and I weren’t together. How, I had no idea, but he’d do it. He was that good of a father and protector.
“I want to stay here with you,” she cried.
I shook my head. “Nope. Your dad is going to put you in time out for running off again. Plus, we need to get you back before he worries.”
I’d take her to her back deck and make sure she went inside. I didn’t dare have a four-year-old walk back to her house, even if it was only thirty feet door to door, by herself. Plus, Remy had a very bad–and dangerous–habit of running off. I didn’t trust her not to run because she was so upset and could get hurt.
I scooped her up, set her on her feet, got the boot back on, and took her hand. “Come on, before your dad worries.”
What I did for this kid. God, I didn’t want to see Wes again. I definitely didn’t want to mess things up for him. Seeing Remy was hard enough. And giving her back? Heart breaking. But Wes really was going to panic when he couldn’t find her. He had enough to worry about right now. I could, at least, get her back safe. One less thing on his big, broad, sexy shoulders.
As I stepped up on the back porch with Remy, I could hear the deep voices of Wes and maybe Rob Wolf, as well as the nasty bite of Soraya’s voice.
“...mate or not, she’s human. I don’t want my child raised in a mixed home.”
The knot in my stomach tightened to epic proportions.
Please let Wes win this battle.