Page 36 of Late Nights & Love Lines
Rubbing my temples, I attempt to ward off the pounding headache rolling in. “Pappy, for the last time, that’s not what’s happening here. I don’t think she even likes me as a boss, let alone a friend. She’s helping out, and she’s made it abundantly clear that she’s temporary.”
Pfft, he tuts. “She’s just never had a reason to stay.”
Arguing with him will get me nowhere.
“Why have you spent all these years filling us in on each other’s lives?” I ask while rummaging through the freezer. For some reason, his answer makes me uneasy, so focusing on why this house has everything except a damn ice maker feels safer.
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re two of the most important people in my life.”
Skeptically, I glance over my shoulder, and it makes him belly laugh.
He pulls the spoon from his mouth and taps his chin with it. “You can steamroll, and she can run, but neither of you will ever outrun your destiny. Those love lines were created long before you knew what love was.”
“Pappy.” Exasperation laces every letter. “Just because there’s a connection does not mean we’re destined to be together. I want forever, and she wants what’s next. That will never work out.”
He shrugs as if I’m the town idiot. “Unless what’s next is forever. We’ll see, Seb. We’ll see. Don’t go scaring her off. You can be rather pushy when you’re…worried.”
My nose scrunches up with the need to defend myself, but he’s right. I’m generally relaxed, but there are five people in this world who change me from relaxed to a raving nervous jackalope in the blink of an eye, and nothing has ever worried me more than Rowan Ellis.
“I’m going to sit on the porch,” Pappy calls over his shoulder.
“Sure,” I grumble, then go about twisting the old ice cube trays and tossing the ice into a zip-top bag. “What’s next for me is giving my kids stability. And there’s nothing stable about Rowan’s lifestyle. Great. Now I’m talking to myself.”
Refilling the trays, I carefully set them back in the freezer, then turn off the lights and head upstairs to Rowan’s room.
When I knock, it’s Seren who calls out, “Come in.”
Opening the door, I find my little girl on Rowan’s bed scribbling in a notebook that she quickly snaps closed.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Did you have fun with the horses today?” I’m standing in the center of the room now, so close yet so far away from my sweet little girl.
“They were pretty, and seeing them with the sunset on the ocean was so cool,” she says, lowering her chin to her chest. “But I feel really bad. Rowan was hurting but made you keep driving so I wouldn’t miss the horses.”
“She wanted you to have a good day. So did I. I haven’t seen you smile in a long time, sweet pea. It made me very happy.”
She nods with watery eyes. “It was a good day.” She twists her hands together in front of her but keeps her chin pressed into her chest. “Rowan’s not so bad.”
“No, she’s not,” I say through the thick glob of emotion sticking to my throat. “Speaking of, where the heck is she now? She was supposed to stay put while I got her ice.”
Spinning in place, I search the empty room for clues.
“I told her that, Dad. Really, I did. But she said you were not the boss of her, and she needed a shower.” Seren tries and fails to hold in her laughter.
I stare blankly at my daughter, mesmerized by the beautiful smile I’ve missed so damn much.
“I don’t hear the water running,” I say as a grin of my own creeps across my face.
“Ah, the bathroom upstairs is really cool. It has a rain shower, and you can see the ocean, so we claimed that one as the girls’ bathroom.”
“She walked up another flight of stairs to shower?”
Seren nods while biting her lip.
“With an ankle the size of a soccer ball?”
