Page 47 of With a Cherry On Top

I brush my hands together then reach for a slice of pepperoni pizza and set it in front of Charlotte, who stares at it like it’s a loaded weapon.

Sadie’s been oddly quiet. When I glance at her, I notice she’s watching Charlotte in pretty much the same way she watches animals at the zoo.

That can’t be helping.

“So, how was school today?” I ask quickly.

Sadie’s face lights up. “Good! We’re studying shapes. I like triangles. Duncan didn’t come to school today. Frances said he has head lice.”

I tune out the rest of her story when I see Charlotte finally lift her slice. She gives it a tentative bite, and the second she begins chewing, she lets out a groan—loud, unfiltered, and utterly obscene.

Sadie’s eyes widen before she bursts into giggles so honest and unrestrained that I can’t help but chuckle too.

“Oh, this is so good,” Charlotte says, tapping her feet under the table in excitement. She laughs along with us before taking another, much bigger bite. “I forgot how much I fuck—freakinglove pizza.”

“Daddy, she said a bad word!” Sadie gasps.

“She did, baby.”

“When I do, Daddy takes away my favorite toy.”

“Yeah?” Charlotte smirks, eyes twinkling. “Are you going to punish me, Daddy?”

A flush creeps up my neck, and I shift in my chair. I can still picturehertoy, picture her playing with herself and moaning my name. And now she’s flirting with me—here. In front of my kid.

“Daddy, can I get Mollie?”

Fuuuuck, I forgot about the fucking cat. I never mentioned her name to Charlotte, but if she learns I have one, she’ll figure out I’m Cole-slash-Weepy Wanker, that we have been on a call together. That I spent most of it crying.

“Not now, sweetheart.”

“Who’s Mo?—”

“Are you a chef too, Charlotte?” Sadie asks suddenly.

For once thankful she still has this bad habit of interrupting people, I answer, “No, sweetheart. I work for her mom,” before Charlotte can. Who knows whatshe’dsay.

Sadie gasps. “He cooks for you?”

“Yes, he does. He’s really good too.”

The simple compliment warms me in a way I don’t expect. I’ve always loved when people enjoy my food, but watching Charlotte eat what I cook feels different. Feels personal. Primal.

Her leg presses against mine under the table, and heat shoots straight up my spine, curling around my resolve. I flinch back on instinct, but she follows, dragging the side of her foot against my hamstring.

I’m painfully aware of every inch of space between us—mostly because she’s taking all of it.

I need to stop. All of this needs tostop.

I stand, my chair scraping against the floor, and Charlotte looks up, biting her bottom lip. “Water. I need—these sodas are way too sweet.”

I walk through the small hallway that leads into the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab two water bottles. Then, making sure I’m out of Charlotte’s and Sadie’s field of vision, I breathe out.

Whyis she flirting with me? I thought she was just trying to buy my silence. But now? Now it feels like she enjoys watching me squirm. And apparently, she has no problem doing it in front of Sadie.

But does she mean it? Or is this revenge for driving Peter out of the house?

I shut my eyes, jaw tightening as I remember her with him only two days ago. The way she let him pull her close, kiss her neck, their bodies fitting together. She’s obviously dating anyone she wants and just messing with me because she can. Because it’s fun for her. Because she knows I won’t do a damn thing about it.

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