Page 136 of The Sweetest Obsession

“No bad words at the dinner table, Uncle Grant! Grandma’s just chomping at the bit for me to start that swear jar,” Nell proclaims proudly.

I smile. “One time when I went to this Podunk town in Montana, there was this little girl at the inn who was all about the swear jars. Buuut I think we can let your uncle live just this once.” I tuck into my own safely unspicy meatloaf. “Now eat your dinner, hon.”

The meal is a pretty rowdy affair with Nell dominating the conversation.

Grant chuckles more than I’ve ever seen him laugh in all the years I’ve known him.

Being a dad suits him, even if Nell isn’t actually his daughter.

It’s like all the rough edges he had as a younger man get smoothed away around this spunky little girl. He turns soft in ways I never imagined.

And I can’t take my eyes off him, especially not when his gaze catches mine across the table.

Nell pulls him back to her with another outlandish observation about her classmates and her very pregnant teacher.

But she grabsmyattention as she abruptly pins me with those wickedly innocent eyes, a broad smile on her lips. “So Miss Philia, are you gonna stay with us for good? You could be an almost-mom. Kinda like Uncle Grant is my almost-dad?”

I nearly spit out my drink, going up like a five-alarm fire. Maybe I got some of Grant’s spicy meatloaf by mistake, but actually...

“Um.”

I’m speechless.

“Almost-dad. That’s what I told her to call me.” Grant smiles across the table.

I fumble, looking between him and Nell.

It hasn’t taken long to figure out that she loves putting people on the spot, but this is too much.

Because she’s not just being a brat. There’s something serious in her nosy question, considering this is the second time she’s asked me.

This isn’t just a little girl playing pranks.

It’s a lonely little girl who misses having a mom, a complete family.

“Honey...” Clearing my throat, I gather my thoughts and say, “I’m happy to stay as long as Grant needs me.”

That wins me a smile from Nell. “Then it’s settled. You’re here for good. ’Cause he’s really dumb without you, Miss Philia.”

“Ishe now?” I laugh, though I suddenly feel shy enough to shrink into the floor, all elbows and awkwardness. I’m right back to being that knock-kneed girl I used to be, flustered in front of her crush. “I don’t think I know how to make Grant less dumb, Nell. He’s been like that since before you were born.”

“I’m right here, ladies,” Grant growls, scowling—and just like that, the awkward tension at the table dissipates.

The rest of dinner passes with more quiet teasing and tales from the schoolyard.

When we’re done, Grant promises to wash the dishes while I take Nell up to bed and read to her. She bounds into the bedroom after brushing her teeth like an overexcited puppy. Before I can shoo her into bed, she grabs her favorite book and jabs it at me.

It’s so weird to feel like that book is part of coming home, right down to the familiar creases in the cover, worn deeper with time.

The same pages I’ve touched lovingly time and time again.

I’m happy to sit down at her bedside and read it to her until she falls asleep. One hand stretches across the covers, quietly reaching for me.

I curl my fingers in hers and hold them gently for a while, just feeling their warmth, watching her sleep.

She’s not mine, no. A few weeks ago I didn’t even know who she was.

But I could easily see myself loving this little girl and getting completely wrapped around her little finger just like her uncle.

---