“It’ll be our little secret.”
Her grin broadens. “Aunt Bella has a secret too.”
I won’t lie and say that just her name doesn’t have my hair standing on end. I inch closer, waiting for her to tell me what it is, but Wren walks back in with Allie on his heels.
“Hey,” Allie says warily, regarding me with her daughter. “Are you sure you can handle this?”
I’m more surprised by the fact she’s okay with me being here, considering she’s like Bella’s sister, and by proxy, that makes me the enemy.
“Positive. When’s Bella coming?”
Her lips thin, but she clears her throat. “Less than an hour. You’re good? You ever done this before?”
“I’ve done my share of babysitting,” I lie. I have no fucking clue what to do with a damn kid, but I’m not telling her that and losing the one chance I’ve had to see Bella again.
My car is two blocks away, because traffic was backed up on this road. I parked and walked instead of waiting. Bella won’t even know I’m here.
“Don’t tell her I’m here.”
Allie snorts derisively. “I’m not keeping this from her.”
“She won’t show up if she knows,” I point out. “How long do you want me here, Allie? Less than an hour, or half the night if the deal goes good?”
Her eyes shift between me and her daughter, and she probably gets worried that I might have her on the back of a motorcycle and getting a tattoo, because she blows out a defeated breath.
“Fine. I won’t tell her. But not because you want to see her. It’s because I think she needs to see you.”
With that, she walks out, no explanation or anything to go along with the vague remark. Wren shrugs like he’s clueless about what that means, but it gives me hope.
Once they’re gone, I turn to face Angel, watching as she smiles over at me.
“What’s Aunt Bella’s secret?”
“What will you give me if I tell you?” she asks.
“What do you want?”
Her brow furrows. “I want a waterpark. And this time I’m not telling you the secret until you give me the thing I want. You’re like a tricky genie.”
She points a finger at me, and I groan inwardly.
“Waterparks take a really long time to build,” I say hopefully.
She frowns. “How long?”
“Years, possibly. By then I’ll learn the secret from someone else, and won’t need to build it.”
She looks truly distraught. So much so that I’m tempted to really build a motherfucking waterpark. Fucking eh. How does Wren deal with her pout and not cave to everything?
“I’ll think of something else.”
I nod, waiting. But when she goes back to brushing her doll’s hair, I realize she doesn’t mean this instant.
“How about something to eat while you think it over?” I suggest, needing her away from the distracting doll.
“Pancakes?”
“I burn them.”