Page 17 of Finding Home
EVERETT
Ican’t decide if the fire station being beside the school is a gift or pure torture. On one hand, I get to watch Lila play with her friends and run around during recess, on the other, I get to see Chloe and how good she is with those kids. See what outfit she picked for the day and how it hugs her figure.
As I stand watching Lila this afternoon, she’s picking yellow dandelions and creating a bouquet. She stops and stares at the flowers in her hand before running over to Chloe and offering them to her. Chloe’s smile lights up her face as she accepts the handful of weeds my daughter picked for her. Lila’s warmed up to her quite quickly. Last year, she wasn’t as close to her teacher as she seems to be with Chloe, and while it may be the new town and the fact that the school is smaller, I have a feeling it’s all Chloe and her sunshine personality, the way she just sucks you in. That thought has an idea forming, and it’s either going to bite me in the ass down the road, or it’s going to be the best decision I’ve ever made.
As I leave my office, I yell out to the guys that I’m stepping out, and they nod, many raising a brow as I leave and walk into the field separating the school and station.
When Lila calls, “Daddy,” I can’t stop my grin as I crouch and she runs into my arms.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I’m going to talk to Miss Maxwell, go back and play with your friends.”
I kiss her cheek and send her on her way. As I stand, Chloe is watching me. Something about her gaze has me puffing my chest, the fabric of my shirt straining a little more.
“Mr. Lawson,” she says as I approach. “How can I help you?”
“I have a proposition I think could benefit both of us,” I say, and her eyes widen.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Your living situation.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes flicking to the kids running around before she stares me down. “I’m not sure how that’s any of your concern.”
“Come over for dinner and we can talk,” I say.
She bites her lip as she thinks about it.
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” she finally says, her voice a little breathy, and damn if it doesn’t make my cock stir.
“It’s a simple conversation, Chloe. It will be mutually beneficial.”
She pops her hip. “Have you ever heard the saying you’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”
I lean forward, my breath dusting over her cheek, and I feel her intake of breath against mine as I whisper, “Didn’t seem to bother you the first time we met,” then step back.
Her eyes harden. “That was when I thought I’d never have to see you again. And I got the distinct impression you didn’t want to mention our first meeting the way you behaved when we ran into each other at Grounded Bliss.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t particularly like making those kinds of things known to my daughter,” I grunt.
“Still could have acted like you knew me,” she huffs, and I feel some of her sunshine energy fade, like she’s sad I didn’t acknowledge we’d met before.
“Chloe, please come to dinner.”
She huffs. “Fine.”
I tell her the address and tell her to come overtomorrow at six and turn to leave as she calls the kids to line up. When I get back to the station, the guys scurry and act as if they weren’t just watching me out the large window that faces the field.
In between the small calls we get during my shift, I decide what I’m going to make for dinner tomorrow. I’m not just going to order a pizza to feed Chloe, so I put together a shopping list and come up with a plan.
When I pick Lila up from school the following day and tell her that Chloe is coming over for dinner, she’s super excited and insists on helping me in the kitchen. When I put the lasagna in the oven, she leaves me and heads outside, returning fifteen minutes later with picked wildflowers from the backyard.
She holds them out to me and says, “Look, Daddy. I picked them for Miss M. Do you think she’ll like them?”
“I’m sure she’ll love them, Peanut. We should get you cleaned up before dinner.”
She grins up at me and says, “Okay, Daddy,” before running upstairs. I set the salad on the table and follow Lila, ducking into my bedroom and checking myself in the mirror. There’s a splatter spot of pasta sauce on the front of my shirt, and I rip it off, tossing it in my laundry basket before pulling a fresh shirt on.
