Watch Me Fall (Ross Siblings, #5)(14)
“Okay,” she said simply.
“Good girl.”
He really was a lucky guy, and he knew it—even if it was hard to remember at times. Usually those times were when his house was echoingly empty between the girls’ visits and all he was left with were memories. But Shelly was great about deviating from the visitation schedule whenever he asked. He saw his daughters way more than some of his friends were able to see their kids after a divorce.
There was the thought of one day, though, that loomed in the back of his mind, and he tried not to give it much consideration now since there didn’t seem to be much danger in its imminent arrival: the day Shelly began seriously dating some other guy she wanted to bring around Jared’s girls.
He didn’t think he would be okay with that. When it came to Ashley and Mia, he didn’t entrust their care to anyone except immediate family. Anyone. He didn’t expect Shelly to stay single forever, of course, but it was going to be hard. He dreaded it. Likewise, he was reluctant to bring other women around his girls, lest they get attached as they had to Macy. Starla, though, was a fluke. She’d caught him by surprise and he’d let her in. But it was all right. He’d let this onetime thing happen and that would be that. No harm could come from one night, could it? And no sense dwelling on things that hadn’t even happened yet.
Lost in his thoughts, he turned under the big arched JS sign that heralded his driveway, crossed the cattle guard, and began the long, slow drive toward home. The girls, completely forgetting they were having a guest, began pleading to ride their horses (“No, we’re having company”), go for a swim (“No, the water is still too cold and we’re having company”), and go for a ride on his new Gator (“No, we’re having company”). He had to bite his tongue to keep from slipping a “no-no word” in that last one. Ever since Ashley had exclaimed, “What the hell!” in front of his mother a while back, he’d tried to watch his language around them. His mom had only laughed about it, but still.
When he went around the final turn and his house came into view, a little black car already sat in his driveway. He grinned and glanced at the clock as he pulled up beside her; it was 6:47. Punctual. Even early. While he’d figured she would forget the whole thing, or that maybe her boast about her “mad culinary skills” was simply that: a boast.
“She’s here!”
“Is that her?” Ash’s and Mia’s exclamations layered over each other.
“Should be. Hop out and introduce yourselves.” And for God’s sake, don’t scare her off.
Starla’s shimmering blonde head popped out of her car as he climbed down from the truck. The girls hopped down one after the other from the passenger side. For reasons known only to seven-year-old sisters, they had to get out on the same side of the truck no matter which it was. Before he could even get a greeting out, the two of them had run around to Starla’s side of the car and were flinging a barrage of statements and questions at her. Lord. He hurried around and almost laughed out loud. The girl was backed up against her car door as if a couple of Dobermans were threatening her. Another minute and she might have been scrabbling for the handle and flinging herself back inside.
“Heel!” he called jokingly, and Starla looked over at him in relief, laughing.
“They aren’t bashful, are they?” she said, eyebrows nearly in her hairline.
“Not at all.”
“You look pretty!” Mia cried. “How did you get your hair pink like that?”
“I want pink hair!”
“Daddy, can I have pink hair?”
“The day it grows out that color,” he said, “you can have pink hair.” But Mia’s assessment had been spot-on. Starla was beautiful, wearing a flowing aqua top with white cropped pants and blingy sandals. Her blonde-and-pink-and-turquoise hair hung in big loose spirals over her shoulders. The long, billowy sleeves of her top hid her tattoos, but he could see one peeking from under the cuff of her pants. Once the girls spied it, he would really have his hands full.
The girls hadn’t liked his answer in regard to pink hair. Mia crossed her arms with a huff, bottom lip jutting out in her exaggerated pout. Ashley looked ready to wail. Recovering her composure quickly—she wasn’t bashful either, he knew—Starla knelt down with his daughters. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. I made my hair this color, but I’m a grown-up.”
“I can’t wait to be a grown-up,” Mia said.
“Enjoy being a kid for as long as you can,” Starla told her. “Trust me on that. Have fun all the time.”
“School isn’t fun.”
“It can be. Don’t you like playing with your friends?”
“Daniel pulls my hair all the time. And Annie steals my crayons.”
“Maybe Daniel likes you and Annie just wants your attention because she wants to be your friend. Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I wish I could go back to school.”
“Why?” the girls asked in unison.
“Because there are lots of things I wish I’d done, and lots of things I wish I hadn’t. But,” she added seriously, looking at each of them in turn, “if people are mean to you to show they like you, then don’t be their friend.”
Given her incident the other night, she might know a thing or two about that. Ashley and Mia stared at her silently with wide, round eyes, each of them nodding. You would think a Disney princess had appeared and brought them under her thrall. She’d just about brought him under it too.