Page 25 of Single-Minded
“Look at you with your llamas,” she said. “Super cute.”
“I didn’t want face paint,” Sienna told her, surprising me a little because she was my shy girl who didn’t usually talk to people she didn’t know well.
“I think that’s perfectly okay,” Presley said with a warm smile. Then she sidled up next to me, pointed at her tray of sweets, and whispered in my ear, “Okay if I share these?”
My response was an affirmative growl, in part because her closeness, her sweet scent, rendered me momentarily unable to form words.
“Who wants a fried cookie dough bite?” Presley asked.
All three girls raised their hand, their eyes bright with interest.
Presley bent down and held the paper tray out. The girls swarmed her, and each grabbed a ball of battered cookie dough, paying no mind to the mess the chocolate drizzle made of their hands. My attention got caught up in Presley’s shoulders from behind: narrow, feminine, and bare. I clenched my hand into a fist to prevent myself from reaching out to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked.
She straightened and offered me a sweet, but I shook my head, tamping down on the thought that the only sweet thing I wanted was her.
Damn, this woman got to me without even trying.
“Thanks for asking if it was okay to offer them one,” I said so only she could hear.
“I’m afraid I learned that the hard way with Chloe’s daughter,” she said. “I always ask now. Sure you don’t want one? They’re delicious.”
I shook my head again and let myself be distracted by my girls.
“These are my favorite,” Nova said with conviction.
“You said funnel cakes were your favorite,” Sienna told her.
Nova shook her head. “These.”
“Can we have another one?” Scarlet asked Presley.
“You have to ask your daddy.” Presley tapped Scarlet’s nose affectionately, making my daughter laugh.
“Please, Daddy?” they all pleaded.
“One more each. Then let Miss Presley have some.”
“Struggling in my pursuit of healthy,” she said with an embarrassed grin.
“But at least you’re not working,” I said.
“Not working. Only shaking a little from withdrawal,” she admitted.
We shared a private look for an instant before Nova grabbed my arm and said, “Llama pics next, Daddy! You promised.”
“I promised.”
“Can Miss Presley go too, Daddy?” Sienna said, quieter than Nova but with equal excitement.
“Miss Presley can be in our photo,” Scarlet said confidently, having no idea the position that idea put me in.
“I was planning to get my photo with the llamas too,” Presley said. “We can walk to the booth together.”
My eyes widened as Nova glued herself to Presley’s side and took her empty hand. I watched Presley’s face for any sign she was uncomfortable with that, aware that not everyone liked it when a kid glommed onto them, but Presley’s smile at my youngest seemed genuine.
“We might need to stop and wash our hands first,” Presley said, laughing.
I cringed. “I imagine you just got a handful of stickiness. Sorry about that.”
