Page 73 of Never Sleigh Never
Brie sets her fork down, turning toward Josie with a proud grin. “So many great entries—including yours. You’ve got serious snowman-building skills.” She bumps Josie’s shoulder.
The two of them launch into a conversation about cowboy snowmen, glitter glue accessories, and one entry that looked suspiciously like Elvis. I lean back, half listening, half lost in the way Brie’s laughter lights up the room. My foot keeps brushing hers, and she doesn’t pull away. She plays along, toes tangling with mine under the table. This is exactly what Josie should have had growing up. Family dinners. Easy laughter. A woman’s voice mixing with ours at the table. The ache in my chest twists, sharp enough to make me shove my plate away.
“You’re done already?” Brie’s brows pinch.
“Yeah, I had a big lunch.”
She eyes me but doesn’t push. Instead, she finishes her last bite and stands. “Here, let me grab the dishes.”
“I’ve got it. You’re my guest.”
“And you cooked. At least let me help.”
“I’ll help too!” Josie hops up like it’s Christmas morning.
I stare at her suspiciously. “You never volunteer for dishes.” Leaning toward Brie, I whisper, “What have you done to my daughter? You should probably come over more often.”
Brie giggles.
Josie pipes up, “Yes! Dad makes the best pancakes.”
Brie’s eyes sparkle as she turns to me. “Oh, so now we’re moving on to breakfast.”
As I pass Brie, I bend down, my nose running along the shell of her ear, and whisper, “I’m not opposed to making you breakfast.”
Her breath catches, and satisfaction zips through me.
We form an assembly line at the sink—me rinsing, Josie handing things off, Brie sliding them into the dishwasher. It feels… dangerously domestic. Like something I could get used to.
“Brie, you should stay for a movie,” Josie says. “Dad can make popcorn. It’ll be like a slumber party.”
A flicker of hesitancy crosses Brie’s face when she glances at me. Does she want to stay? I’d love to have Brie share my bed, but maybe it’s too much. Too fast. I rest a hand on Josie’s shoulder, and she peers up at me. “I’m sure Brie would like to sleep in her own bed tonight.”
Brie smiles softly. “But I’d love to stay for a movie.”
Josie cheers and bounds into the living room.
Once she’s gone, Brie’s gaze lingers on me. “If I’m overstaying my welcome, just say so.”
“No, I’m enjoying your company. But I hope to have that sleepover someday.”
Brie’s fingertips trace down my arm, and my heart leaps into my throat. “And I hope to get pancakes.”
I’m seconds away from saying to hell with it. She can stay over, and I’ll cook her all the pancakes she wants in the morning, but I haven’t been with a woman since Brooke, let alone had one stay the night. Josie seems to like Brie, but I don’t know how she would take my being with someone else. Sure, she’s only a kid, but she’s my daughter. What I do affects her as well. I can’t just leap. Not yet.
After making the popcorn and dumping it into a giant bowl, we stroll into the living room where Josie already has the movie up on the screen and has turned the couch into Blanket Kingdom.
“The Taylor Swift Eras Tour.” Brie nudges me with her elbow, smirking. “Never pegged you for a Swiftie.”
“I do it for Josie,” I deadpan.
“Dad can sit here, and then Brie can sit here.” Josie pats the cushion next to my spot.
“Where are you going to sit?” I ask.
“On the other side next to Brie.”
Brie points toward the recliner in the corner. “Maybe I should sit there.”
