Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Ivy

“And you’ll watch over Snowball?” Evie asks.

I’m standing in the corner of her classroom, warring with myself about leaving her.

Fucking hating that I can’t keep her glued to my side forever.

But she asked to come back.

And that little asshole, James, was transferred to a different class.

Ms. Hearst is still the principal and Bonnie, the receptionist at the front desk, who clearly can’t stand the sight of me, continues to work the front desk.

But James isn’t in Evie’s class.

And the superintendent has assured me that James will have a behavioral aide with him during lunch and recess, making sure he doesn’t go anywhere near Evie.

It’s not completely perfect.

But it’s enough.

“I’ll take care of Snowball,” I say.

“And Knox is still bringing Winter by tonight after dinner?”

I touch her cheek. “Yes,” I confirm, knowing this is part nerves and part…being my daughter. She needs to go over all of the details, needs to understand what’s coming. “We’ll keep her while Knox and the guys are on their road trip. Think she’ll be excited about the toy we picked up for her?”

She relaxes, the last of her nerves dissipating like so much smoke. “Yes! And Ella said she’d make a matching bow for her collar.” She holds up the end of her braid—which I’ve managed to keep together and refresh this morning after Saturday’s home game had brought Ella and her braiding skills back into our lives—and shows me the bow.

It’s pink.

And sparkly.

Because that’s also my daughter.

“I bet Winter will love the bow.”

Evie nods excitedly then wraps her arms around me and squeezes me hard. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love?—”

“Oh! There’s Rylie!” she exclaims. “I need to show her my braid!”

She runs off before I can finish my sentence and I stand up, lean against the wall, and watch her for a couple of minutes.

“Stay as long as you need.”

I glance over at Evie’s teacher, Mrs. Jamieson.

“And know that I’ll call you if there are any issues.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, and even though the words don’t completely make my worry go away, they do make me feel a little better.

More so when she adds, “ You . Not Ms. Hearst.”

“Thanks,” I say again.

She nods and slips off, gathering the students to the carpet, talking about the day of the week and the word of the day and then going into a lesson about something called digraphs.

I don’t want to leave.

But I know that I need to.

So, when they start reading a book about an elephant and a pig who have to learn how to share their ice cream cone, I take one more look at my daughter…

And then I head out of the classroom.

The knock at the door has me glancing up from my computer and frowning.

It’s nearly lunchtime and though I’m supposed to be working, I’m worrying instead.

Yeah, my computer’s on and my notebook is open and I’m pretending to be reviewing workout plans…but in actuality, I’ve been sitting here, staring at my computer from the moment I got home after leaving Evie’s classroom.

Only Snowball has distracted me and that was for a few scratches before she glared at me balefully and went back into Evie’s room, claiming her sunny spot on the rug.

Knock. Knock!

I blink and shake myself, pushing off the barstool and striding to the front door.

A glance through the windows has my breath catching, but I don’t bother delaying.

I just reach for the handle and pull the door open.

Knox is leaning casually against the post on my porch, ankles crossed, brown bag dangling from his fingertips, Winter tucked under his arm.

“What are you doing here?”

He holds up the bag, uncrosses his ankles, then pushes off the pillar. Crouching slightly, he holds my gaze. Then tsks quietly and cups my cheek. “I knew you’d be like this.”

Before I can react to that, he’s wrapping his hand around mine.

“Come on,” he says, drawing me back into the house, closing and locking the door behind us.

I reach for Winter when she wiggles in my direction. “What are you?—?”

He settles her in my arms. “Evie has school for a few more hours,” he says gently. “We’re here to distract you.”

An emotion that’s far too much like gratitude spreads through my veins and I exhale, eyes stinging.

Dammit.

This man can’t be here.

He can’t know this.

He can’t get this close?—

“Woof!”

I jump at the sound then again when Winter’s tongue darts out and she begins doling out kisses beneath my chin. “Knox,” I begin.

“I’ve got Winter’s stuff in the car,” he says, setting the bag on the kitchen island. “Don’t panic. Just think of this as me saving a trip.”

“Because I’m worried about Evie.”

His face softens. “Winter and I are worried about her first day back too,” he says. “So much so that we almost forgot to each lunch.” He flicks his brows up. “Kind of think that might be catching. Though, why do I have the feeling you didn’t eat breakfast either?”

My throat works, that warmth in my belly spreading.

Slip. Slip. Slide.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Ah”—he bumps his shoulder against mine—“we’re in this together, lioness, remember?”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

But I don’t say that out loud.

Knox bends and scoops up Snowball, who’s abandoned her sunny spot in favor of greeting him. He cuddles her until she gets impatient and because Winter’s all but wriggling out of my grip to get down, I set her on the floor.

And when Knox returns Snowball to her feet, Winter makes her way to her furry friend with remarkable speed, even given the cast. The two of them sniff each other and exchange kisses (or well, Winter is giving them out by the dozen). I watch them until the excitement dies down and Snowball moves to the bed Evie made up for her this morning, Winter close on her heels.

In less than a minute they’re burrowed into the pile of cozy blankets.

Sunshine. Kisses. Cuddles.

And naps.

They’re living it up.

“Winter’s happy,” Knox says, drawing my focus. “Snowball’s warm. Now”—he moves in front of me and cups my cheeks—“are we eating lunch or are we getting naked?