Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(73)

“That’s good.”

He looked around my office, and the silence grew slightly uncomfortable. Did he know about Frannie and me? Did he know it was over? I felt like I owed him an apology, like I’d taken advantage of his trust and generosity. I was trying to think of a way to get it off my chest when he spoke again.

“You know, Mack, you’re family to us.” He picked up the photo of me and the girls I’d been looking at earlier and took it in his lap.

I felt his kind words like a kick in the gut. “Thank you, sir.”

“And I hope you know that you’ll always be welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’m …” I cleared my throat. “I’m very glad to be a part of this team.”

He looked up at me. “It’s more than a team.”

I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak.

Setting the photo back on the desk, he said, “I never had any sons, and my son-in-law isn’t around here very often, so if you’d ever like to go fishing or hunting or anything, you let me know. If I am going to slow down some, I’m gonna have some time on my hands. I’d like to fill it doing things I enjoy, spending time with people I care about.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I attempted to smile, but I felt like shit. I didn’t deserve his kindness after what I’d done to Frannie. I didn’t deserve to have him refer to me as family or offer to go fishing with me or think of me as a surrogate son. Had that been his way of telling me he was okay with a relationship between me and his daughter? Dammit, I didn’t deserve that either! I almost wished he’d come at me red-faced and angry, railing about how I couldn’t treat her like that and get away with it. I wished he’d thrown a punch.

I arrived home on edge, and Frannie barely looked at me before hugging the kids goodbye and disappearing into the back hall to put on her boots and coat. Again, I followed her.

“Did you say anything to them about not coming back?” I asked.

“No.” She pulled on her boots. “You told me not to.”

“I know. I’ll do it tonight. I spoke with an agency today. They said it wouldn’t be a problem to find a replacement sitter by next week.”

“Good.” She zipped up her coat and put her hat on. She wore braids in her hair again today, and for some reason the sight of them made me even sadder. I’d never smell her hair again. Or brush it. Or see it spilling across my pillow, dangling above my chest, cascading down her naked back.

I stuck my hands in my pockets, my heart aching. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

She barely looked at me before walking out, closing the door behind her. For a few frantic seconds, I tried to think of some reason—any reason—to run after her, keep her here a little longer. But I couldn’t.

Instead I went to the living room, moved the curtain aside, and peeked out the front window, watching as she got into her car. She started the engine, but didn’t go anywhere right away. I thought maybe she was on the phone or texting someone, but then she dropped her face into her hands and I realized she was crying.

My chest felt like it was being split in two.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” asked Felicity, coming up behind me.

“Nothing,” I said, letting the curtain fall into place again.

“Yes, you are, you’re looking at Frannie,” she said, jumping onto the couch and pushing the curtain aside again. Then she gasped. “Oh, she’s crying!”

“She’s crying?” Immediately the other two girls jumped onto the couch and craned their necks for a better view.

I yanked the curtain in front of them. “I don’t know.”

“She is, I can tell,” Millie said. “We should go get her. What if she needs help?”

“No!” I yelled. “Leave her alone!”

All three girls looked at me in surprise.

I ran a hand through my hair and lowered my voice. “Sometimes grownups get sad about things. Frannie is fine.”

“How do you know?” Millie persisted. “She didn’t say anything to us about being sad.”

“Because I know,” I snapped. I thought about her gentle, trusting father and his kind words to me this afternoon and felt even worse.

“Did you make her sad?” Winnie asked, her tone accusatory. “Did you yell at her? You make me sad when you yell at me.”

“Me too,” added Felicity. “And you’ve been yelling a lot this week.”

“Why did you yell at Frannie?” Millie crossed her arms over her chest. “We love Frannie. You should apologize. You probably scared her!”

“For fuck’s sake, Millie, I didn’t yell at Frannie!”

“Now you’re yelling at me.”

“No, I’m not!” I yelled.

Winnie started to cry and ran up the stairs. Felicity and Millie exchanged a look that said OMG Dad Is Losing It.

“Look,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Sometimes dads yell. It doesn’t mean they don’t love their kids. It just means they’re having a bad day.”

“Frannie says a hug makes a bad day better,” said Felicity, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But I’m sorry, I don’t really feel like hugging you right now.”

“Me neither.” Millie shook her head.