Page 53 of Worth the Heat
“Well,” Camila begins, “I spend lots of nights withAbuelitoandAbuelita. You must be so lonely here. And Butterscotch doesn’t make nearly enough noise to keep you company.”
“No, Butterscotch is a fairly quiet cat.” He’s also pretty dumb, but if he makes Isabella happy, he’s fine with me. I squeeze my eyes closed because I know I’ll give my daughter whatever she asks.
“He needs a little brother,” Camila says innocently, beaming at me. Her eyes dart to the stairs as Isabella shuffles into the room holding Butterscotch. Camila squeals and Isabella immediately places the cat in her lap.
“Who needs a little brother?” Isabella asks, yawning. Her eyes have yet to catch mine, but my parents both stare in awe at her. In fact, I’m staring at her.
Even though she has most of her wardrobe hung in the guest room closet, she went into my closet and grabbed my things. I have a visceral reaction to seeing her in my plaid pajama pants and a worn tee-shirt from one of Luca’s first games with the Denver Wolves. He signed it, and I proudly showed my parents afterward. They know it’s mine.
I could play this cool. Wink and move on. But in this moment, knowing that only a few short hours ago, I was buried to the hilt inside her after wanting her for years, I’m through with being nonchalant.
She notices me striding toward her and her eyes widen dramatically. For a half-second, my steps falter as I worry I’ll push her away, but then I see a grin tug at the corner of her mouth. With one hand on her hip and the other into her beautiful hair, I take her lips in a kiss that is definitely not PG,but not obscene either. I feel Isabella’s hands clench at my shirt as she sighs into my mouth. Breaking off the kiss, I smile softly. “Good morning,mi amor.”
“Hi,” she whispers, biting her lip as her fingers absentmindedly trace across my chest. When my father clears his throat, I reluctantly step aside, but slide an arm around her waist.
“Alright. Ask your questions,” I say.
“I don’t have any questions,bebé. It was only a matter of time. Your story is written in the stars.” My mother smiles widely at us before walking over to give Isabella a hug.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Isabella says remorsefully, once my mom lets go.
Mom scoffs. “Nonsense. It isn’t a race, and we weren’t keeping a stopwatch as we waited. We know our son, and he’d do it all again if the same outcome was guaranteed.”
I nod in agreement. I may have had a momentary setback last night, but I know I’d have come up with a plan by this morning, had Isabella not made the first move.
My eyes drift to where Camila sits quietly with Butterscotch in her lap. While she doesn’t look mad, she doesn’t look happy either. Going to her, I crouch next to her chair. “Talk to me,Mija.”
Her eyes bounce between me and Isabella. “I know you love her, Daddy. Do you still love me?”
“Oh, Camila,” I say quietly. “No one will ever displace my love for you.”
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
I nod solemnly. “Absolutely.”
“Do you promise not to be mad?” she asks.
“Why?” I ask, a sense of paranoia drifts down my spine. “Is there something that you think I may be upset about?”
She nods as she looks up at my mother. Mom smiles ruefully at me. “Butterscotch really does need a little brother.”
I groan as I throw my head back, eyes closing. Fuck. Please besomething normal, like a cat or dog. With Camila, anything is possible. She went through a complete fascination with tarantulas, excitedly accompanying me to southern Colorado for a tarantula migration. There was a brief interest in penguins, as well as marmots, courtesy of that stupid marmot that wreaks havoc on Eternity Springs. Camila even commented about a classmate having a corn snake a few weeks ago, and I literally might have a heart attack if my parents got her a snake.
“Daddy, it’s okay. I want to call him Oreo, cuz then he’ll match up with Butterscotch.” I hear a very small mewl, and I open my eyes to find the cutest black and white kitten staring at me. There were rumblings of a kitten recently, but I made it clear to my mother that I had no interest in taking on an animal. I’m not sure if this is the same kitten, but the look of hope on my daughter’s face is one I simply refuse to crush.
“Oreo, huh,” I muse, taking him from my mom. Butterscotch sniffs the kitten once, hisses, then bolts from Camila’s lap. “I think it may take some time for Butterscotch to learn to be friends with Oreo.”
“It’s okay. It takes time to make friends,” Camila says matter-of-factly. Her eyes jerk toward Isabella again, and she lowers her voice to a whisper. “Is she my mom now?”
A pang of sadness overtakes me as I ghost a hand over Camila’s hair. Her blue eyes look at me so hopefully, and I hate that she recognizes the absence of her mother. I also refuse to lie to my daughter. “No,mi Chiquita. That’s not how it works.”
“Oh,” she says sadly, her eyes dropping to the floor. “All my friends have a mom. I thought that maybe …”
I hear a sniff as my mom listens. I hand her the kitten while I pull Camila into my arms. I walk her into the great room and sit on the couch with her in my lap. “I know you want a mother,Mija. And while I can’t say for certain that Isabella will or won’t be in your life for a long time, we aren’t ready to assign any role toher. But I know she cares for you a lot, and she likes spending time with you. Now the three of us can spend time together.”
“My friend Amanda said she’s always with a babysitter cuz her mom goes on dates. What’s a date?” Camila asks.
“A date is when two people go out together somewhere because they like each other.”
