Page 48 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

And you know how I am about my tea and the blend being just right.

We’ll be keeping an eye on this new couple and the agent.

Till next time,

Chamie

Chapter Nineteen

David

Softclickingandfootstepscoming from the hallway gently rouse me from sleep. The murmurs that come through my door as Scarlett and Cat whisper have my lips twitching. Scarlett’s whisper is similar to a stage actress pretending to speak softly.

I pull my phone from the nightstand and see that it’s a little after seven. Placing the phone back down, I yawn and let myself think about how my life has changed since Cat moved into the spare bedroom after the wedding.

Over the last four days, the three of us have fallen into an easy routine. Everyone, including Emmy, has effortlessly settled in, and the chaos that was my reality for the last few weeks has all but disappeared.

Cat has taken on the responsibility of getting Scarlett and Emmy ready in the morning without my asking. She’s an early riser, just like my daughter, making it easy for me to sleep in a tiny bit.

Only a bit, though, as neither Emmy nor Scarlett is truly quiet, but the days of screams and eighty pounds crashing into my ribs are all but gone.

I’m not going to lie, I miss the feel of Scarlett’s body as it slams into me, but there’s definitely something to be said for gradually waking up rather than having your heart feel like it’s being ripped from your body out of terror.

Shaking my head, I laugh at my daughter’s antics. She’s a good girl, but I may have spoiled her just a bit by not setting simple boundaries. Like how to wake me up without trying to kill me.

The sounds outside my room get louder as they reach the kitchen. Metal bangs, the refrigerator door opens and closes, and I can imagine them talking about what to make for breakfast. A few minutes later, a warm, cozy scent surrounds me like a hug.

Coffee. And bacon.

If I didn’t know what a big coffee drinker Cat is, I might think she was intentionally speaking my love language.

A tiny dip in my stomach reeks of disappointment that that’s not the case.

After Cat moved in, we had a long talk about her thyroid condition and how she and her new doctor are working to find the right dosage of medication. My worry over her episode has lessened, but after learning how much coffee she drinks, I can’t help but wonder what he would have to say about it.

Too much caffeine will make most people jittery…that could cause dizziness, right?

Scrubbing a hand up and down my face, I blow out a deep breath before tossing the blanket from my body. Rolling to the side of the bed, I rest my feet on the cool floor and pause for a second. My stomach knots as the daily emotional struggle resumes now that Cat is my wife.

The nagging sensation of having to worry about someone other than my daughter’s welfare tugs at my gut. Not to mention the memories of what it was like when Fiona got sick. I know a thyroid condition is not the same as Fiona’s illness, but I can’t shake the comparison.

Not with the feelings I have coming up.

Pushing down the weight of emotions I don’t want to examine, I make my way to the kitchen and the coffee that is beckoning me.

Not the woman who is capturing the hearts of my daughter, my dog…and me.

I stop and lean against the door frame to watch the scene in front of me, arms folded against my chest. Scarlett is standing on a step stool and coaching Cat how to make scrambled eggs. My mouth tugs at the corner as Cat nods, moving the spatula back and forth in the frying pan.

Then she effortlessly switches her attention to the skillet and flips the bacon. My gaze takes in how adorable she looks in a long-sleeved, fitted white thermal top, a pair of red flannel pajama bottoms, and a pair of white bunny slippers. They’re ridiculously adorable, just like her.

Wait, are those mine? No. Mine are pink.

My cheeks lift at my thoughts just as I hear Scarlett tell Cat all the different ways that Duncan, Ava, and I cook bacon. The ease of their conversation causes a warmth to spread through my chest.

A bump on my thigh has me glancing down to find bright eyes and a long tongue hanging over a jaw full of white teeth.

“Hey girl,” I whisper, running my hand over the top of Emmy’s head, and her grin expands before she looks toward her empty bowl. “Has no one fed you yet?”

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