Love Starts with Elle(17)

Elle pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Why did you tell him March fifteenth?”

“As I live and breathe, you said he could move in mid-March. I remember the night I called you.”

“The night you were out . . . eating Mexican . . .” And drinking Coronas.

Silence. Then Marsha’s wrinkled chuckle. “George tells me I forget details lately, but I could’ve sworn on my mama’s grave you said March fifteenth. Goodness, I can hear your voice in my head now. March. You were going to set up house in Dallas before the wedding, as I recall.”

Elle let her hip fall against the porch post. “Have a good night, Marsha.” She glanced into the living room, through the window’s sheers. Now what? A stranger was inside her cottage caring for his sick daughter expecting to be home after a long journey.

But Elle had been looking forward to her final days at home, prepping for the wedding, finalizing her packing and shipping boxes to her new home in Dallas. Taking a nap or two.

She turned to go inside as Heath crossed the living room carrying a towel-wrapped little girl. Slipping inside, Elle let the door click behind her. “Is she all right?”

“Too much junk food. Her mom was into healthy eating and I don’t think her stomach found chicken nuggets friendly.” Heath glanced at Elle. “Thanks for letting us in.” Then to his girl, “Tracey-Love, wait here while I get your jammies?”

The girl shook her head and slung her arms around his neck. “S-stay w-w-with m-me.”

“I will, but Daddy needs to get your suitcase from the van. Do you want to wear your new princess pajamas?”

Elle eased across the floor to the couch. This strange man in her living room, comforting his daughter in tender tones seemed so . . . lost.

“What’s her name?”

“Tracey-Love.”

“Hey, Tracey-Love, my little niece Rio is about your age and she left a pair of pajamas in the back room.” She stooped to see her clear blues. “Do you like ponies?”

The girl stared, hands tight around Heath’s.

“Yes, she does,” Heath answered, locking his gaze with Elle’s. Thank you.

“I’ll run get them.”

When Elle retuned with pony pajamas, she nodded toward the hall. “You can put her in there.” The girl was already half asleep.

“Thank you.” Heath slipped the gown over her head before unwrapping the towel. He picked her up. “Back this way? Which room?”

“There’s only one. Can’t miss it. The master bedroom is here, off the living room. And if she wants a drink of water, there’re paper cups in the bathroom.”

Heath stopped, turning to her with an easy smile. “I noticed. Thanks. Do you have children?”

“My niece is here a lot.”

While Heath tucked in his daughter, Elle unloaded the dishwasher, meditating over the situation. What’s your tale, Heath McCord? Lonely-looking man with a four-year-old girl. And please don’t be a parental kidnapping case. Hadn’t Marsha said he was a big-shot New York lawyer?

“Thank you again.” He stood between the living room and kitchen. “This place is nicer than Marsha described. She said you’re an artist.”

“Gallery owner. Former artist who realized her limited talent.”

Health regarded her for a second as if trying to understand. “I guess it’s good to be self-aware.” He held his stained shirt away from his body. “Mind if I grab a shower? Your name’s Elle, right?”

“E-l-l-e. ‘L’ like the letter.”

“Okay, ‘L’ like the letter, good to know.”

“You’re welcome to shower, but you’re going to have to find another place to sleep.” Elle shoved the dishwasher closed with her foot while reaching to close the bottom cupboard.

“I understand this is an awkward situation, Elle, but Tracey-Love has had a devastating year, the last of which was our trip down. I’m not leaving her alone in a strange place only to have her wake up with me beyond crying distance. I’ll sleep in the room with her. The floor suits me just fine.”

Elle draped the wet dish towel over the stove’s handle. “How would you feel if your wife or daughter let a stranger spend the night? Even a seemingly nice guy like yourself?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving her.” Heath hesitated, then turned for the hall. “Thanks for your hospitality. I’ll find a hotel.”

Elle breathed in, checking her emotions with her thoughts before trailing after him. “Wait, Heath, don’t wake her.”

He gazed down at her, the hall light filtering through the ends of his winter-blond hair. “Look, I’m exhausted. I don’t want to debate this. I’ll find a place tonight until I can work this out with Marsha.”

“I called Marsha. She already confirmed your lease starts now.” Elle pointed up and to the left. “I have a studio over my garage. It used to be a guesthouse. I’ll sleep up there. You take my room. I suppose we can make do for a few weeks until my wedding.”

His hands slipped to his side. “Now I feel guilty. I can find a hotel for the night.”

“And then what? We still have tomorrow and the day after and the day after. You’ve paid fair and square. It’s not your fault we’re in this mess.”