“Let’s go to their table.”
“No need. They’re on their way here.” Max points to the other side of the room.
The girl catches my eye first. She has light blonde hair that falls in beautiful waves and walks with a pronounced limp. She wears a delicate pink chiffon dress, which bounces with every step she takes. What surprises me most about her, though, is that she appears to be eleven or twelve.
“I imagined his daughter to be younger,” I murmur.
“He had her when he was twenty or something. His wife died a few years ago,” Max explains.
“That’s sad.”
As they come closer, I hear the girl whisper, “Is that her, Dad?”
That’s when I focus on the person next to her. I nearly do a double take when I take a closer look at her dad. Holy smokes and fires. This man is… perfection. He has deep brown hair and striking blue eyes. He’s also muscular and tall—I’m talking at least six feet. His arms are strong enough that I imagine he could carry anything in them without effort… including me. Where did that thought come from? I haven’t even met the man. Everything about him screams sexy, even the way he walks, as if he owns the place. He carries himself with a self-confidence that oozes raw power and masculinity.
“Eric,” Max says. “This is my sister, Pippa.” Someone calls Max’s name, and my brother adopts an apologetic expression. “Have to go.”
After Max leaves, the girl steps closer to her dad, as if wishing to hide behind him. Her father caresses her cheek, as though she’s a delicate flower and the slightest wind could sweep her away. They are adorable.
Deciding to put her at ease, I hold out my hand to her. “What’s your name? My brother told me you’re an aspiring designer.”
“Julie.”
“Hi, Julie.” I shake her little hand, feeling calluses on her fingers. Turning her hand palm up, I inspect the hardened skin—unmistakable signs of having held a pencil for hours at a time. “You have designer’s hands. I have calluses too.”
Julie’s eyes widen as if she can’t quite believe it. “But don’t you have computer programs for designing?” she asks.
“Yeah, but I like sketching by hand better.”
“Love your designs,” Julie whispers to me, as if it’s a great secret. “I am going to take a design course while Dad and I are here.”
“Summer school?” I whip my head in Eric’s direction, and he nods. His blue eyes rest on my face for a beat too long, and my skin heats from the intensity. Holy hell.
“I start in two weeks. It’s a great program—specifically for jewelry design.” Julie smooths her hands down her dress, adding in a small voice, “I hope I’ll be good enough.”
My heart stings as I watch Julie fret over this.
“Are you practicing every day?” I ask her.
“Yes, I have some assignments I have to complete before starting summer school. I hope I’ll do them right.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you come to my office every day before summer school kicks off, and I can teach you some techniques? That way, you’ll be in top shape when you start the course.”
“That’s not—” Eric begins.
At the same time, Julie exclaims, “I’d love that.”
She claps her hands, grinning from ear to ear, looking up at her father. “Dad, can I go?”
I suspect Eric wants to say no, but I can practically see his determination melt the longer he looks at Julie. If I’m honest, I’m melting too. I’m certain Eric is the kind of man who gets others to do exactly what he wants. Seeing him unable to resist his daughter’s charm is adorable.
“I’ll consider it.”
“You are the best dad in the world. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you go back to our table, and I’ll sort out the details with Pippa?” Eric tells his daughter.
Julie nods, politely shaking my hand again before leaving. Eric follows Julie with his gaze until she’s seated at the table, then turns his attention to me.