She peers up at me as s
he empties the last gun, and I pull the noodles up out of the pool and toss them up on the deck to evade her eyes.
I want more of what happened last night, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.
A phone starts ringing on the picnic table again, and I look over at her.
“Your phone’s ringing again.”
She nods, a slight frown crossing her face. “Yeah, I know who it is.”
My eyebrows rise a little. Who’s she trying to avoid?
The phone had rung several times since I’d been home, and to my knowledge, she hadn’t answered it.
She looks over at me, seeing me staring at her with a questioning look on my face, no doubt.
She just laughs to herself, explaining, “Guys in town think I’m easy picking now that Cole and I are over.” She runs her fingers through her hair, fluffing the wet strands. “They’re swooping in to comfort me.”
She says the last with air quotes, and my armor instantly steels. Comfort her?
But I force myself to back off. It’s actually just what I need to put things in the proper perspective. She should be going out with her friends.
“Well, maybe you should give one a chance,” I tell her, forcing the words out. “I want you and Cole to make-up and be friends again, but you should get out and have some fun.”
The words taste like shit in my mouth, but I feel good I did the right thing. She’ll date someone. I can start seeing someone. We’ll get distracted and invested in new people.
“I will,” she answers, cutting off my train of thought. “Carter Hewitt invited me to go tubing this weekend, so I said I’d go.”
My face falls. I don’t know a Carter Hewitt, but…
“Tubing?” I say, trying to keep my cool.
I approach her at the edge of the pool. “Uh…no,” I tell her, shaking my head. “No.”
“Huh?” Her eyebrows pinch in confusion.
“Six hours of drifting on a river with nothing else to do but drink your ass off?” I blurt out. “By the time he gets you back to his truck, you’ll be three sheets to the wind, and then you really will be easy picking.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Absolutely not.”
Her eyes round, and her jaw clenches in anger.
Oh, shit.
“You are so…” she whisper-yells, so the kids don’t hear, “old school!” She scowls up at me, her lips tight. “This alpha, possessive, keep-your-daughter-locked-up-with-a-shotgun thing is insulting! I’m not an idiot, and you…” She bares her teeth. “Are not my father.”
I arch an eyebrow as she pulls her legs out of the water and stands up, huffing. I fall back, floating through the water. Yeah, believe me, I know that. The thoughts I have about you aren’t the least bit fatherly.
“Wrap up the pizza in tin foil before you put it in the fridge,” she orders me. “Don’t just slap it on a plate.”
I lock my jaw to hide my amusement at her orders. Like I haven’t wrapped up leftovers before in my adult life.
Grabbing the kids’ bags and towels, she takes Ava’s hand in hers and leads Jensen toward the back gate. “I’m going to run them home and get them in bed,” she tells me and then turns to them. “What do you guys say to Mr. Lawson?”
“Thank you!” the kids say in their slurred voices with mouths full of food.
I step out of the pool and grab a towel, drying off my hair.
“Mr. Cramer said he’d be home by eleven,” Jordan says. “But I know the team usually stops for beers at the pub after the game, so I might be late. I have my key if you lock up.”