"That's incredible," Elena said, smiling over at Brent, who looked ridiculously proud of his daughter. They were in The Thinkery, a new incarnation of the Austin Children's Museum that none of the three of them had visited before. It was, however, a hit with Faith, who'd checked out every exhibit possible, and even played on the backyard climbing structures.
"One more time, and then we have to go," Brent told her.
"More, Daddy, please?"
He chuckled. "You already got to stay through lunch. Do you want Elena and me to starve?"
She pouted, but didn't argue, and a few moments later she bounced over to them, took each of their hands, and half-walked, half-hung like a monkey as they navigated their way to the exit.
"Hungry!" she announced as soon as they were outside.
"Let's hit Magnolia," Brent suggested. "There's plenty on the menu she'll eat."
"Plenty I'll eat, too," Elena said, her mouth already watering for gingerbread pancakes.
"Can we play again tomorrow?" Faith asked, after they were seated.
Brent caught Elena's eye. "You still want company for your research trip to Georgetown?"
"I think that sounds great."
"Yay!" Faith started clapping. "And can Elena come over for dinner tonight? And can we watch Tangled?"
"Yes to dinner," Brent said, "assuming Elena wants to."
"She does," Elena said, making him smile.
"But it's going to be late," he told Faith. "And you're going to be tired. So probably no movie."
"I won't be tired," she said, her voice as serious as a six-year-old could manage. "I'm a big girl now."
"True," Brent said, and like a good dad he didn't remind her later how wrong she was when she fell asleep on the couch only ten short minutes after they'd finished dinner.
"Go take her to bed," Elena said. "I'll clean up."
"Sounds like a deal." He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her. "I could get used to this," he said, and she tried very hard not to stiffen in his arms. Because the truth was, she could get used to it, too. But she didn't want to hope. Especially since they'd been so adult about the whole relationship, acknowledging from the inception that it had to be a temporary thing, because she would be leaving.
But what if she didn't have to leave? What if the consulting firm that was courting her had dozens of employees who telecommuted? What if she'd told them that she was only interested in the job if she was among that group?
And what if they'd said yes?
She'd had that conversation yesterday, though she hadn't told Brent. And she didn't intend to. Not yet. Not until it came up naturally. They were still too new. But she was sure--hell she'd never been more sure about anything, or anybody.
She just didn't know if he felt the same.
By the time he came back from reading to Faith, the kitchen was clean. They turned on the television for camouflage noise, then headed back to his room where they made love slowly and sweetly before she settled against him, exhausted from the day and yet energized by the man.
She liked falling asleep with him, but she liked waking up with him even more. Especially on a day like this when they woke up early and showered together. "Oh, no," she said, when he tried to lead her back to bed. "Long day working on my thesis, remember? And playing in Georgetown."
She was right about the long day, too. They alternated between touring the square's
historic buildings and taking Faith to places that would amuse her, like the toy shop on the square and the massive park located adjacent to the San Gabriel River. They didn't go to Blue Hole, a local swimming destination, because they hadn't planned ahead with swimsuits. But Faith didn't seem to mind. She was having too much fun playing with the kite they'd bought her on the square and eating a cookie she'd begged for from a local coffee shop.
While Elena watched Faith feed the ducks some stale bread they'd bought from a nearby convenience store, Brent checked in with Landon about the progress of the investigation.
"Anything?" she asked when he settled in next to her.
"Unfortunately, no. Still nothing on the video feeds. And the interviews with nearby employees--waiters, valets, people like that--haven't turned up a thing. Landon's going to assign a detective to interview the homeless, but I'm not holding my breath." He met her eyes. "I think it may be a dead end."