“I saw you yesterday,” Izzy said, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. Her entire expression opened up, her eyes just as expressive as Bex’s. “At the gate. And in the morning, too.”
“You did,” he agreed. “I like yoga. Do you like it, too?”
“I like dancer pose and the one where you make a bridge, but the others are booooring. I only go because Mummy needs someone to help Sterling.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “He’s not very good, but he’s a grown-up, and I thought grown-ups were s’posed to know how to do stuff.”
His lips twitched. She certainly wasn’t lacking in confidence. “Grown-ups can do some things well, but not everything. Just like you. I’m sure he appreciates having you there to show him how to do it properly.”
She nodded sagely. “He does.”
That was the sound of his heart bursting. Dear God, she was freaking adorable.
He pulled himself together. He couldn’t turn all melty over a girl who had no idea who he was or how he might change her life. “Lian, Dawn, do you girls like yoga?”
Dawn scrunched her nose. “Is that like yogurt?”
Izzy howled with laughter, and batted her arm. “No, silly!”
Dawn pouted. “Then I don’t care about stupid yoga.”
“What do you like?” He tried to draw her into the conversation because it lessened his guilt over digging for details about Izzy.
Her forehead furrowed, ginger brows drawing together. “I like netball and ice cream.”
He couldn’t fault her there. “I like ice cream too. What’s your favorite?”
“The red velvet type that Faith makes.”
He wondered who Faith was. “Do you like ice cream, Lian?”
She shook her head and stuck her tongue out. “It’s gross. Cake is better.”
“Cake is pretty good.” He snuck a look at Izzy. At her straight nose, so similar to the one he saw in the mirror every day, and her determined little chin. “What’s your favorite dessert?”
She thought for a moment, as if he’d asked her a complicated math equation. “Cookies. The kind with chocolate chips.”
“Yum.” Even the thought of warm, homemade cookies had his mouth watering. Unfortunately, there would be no cookies for him. Especially once Bex got wind of this conversation. But she didn’t have a leg to stand on, because Izzy was a Briggston through and through, and Bex had kept her a secret for years. All that remained was to decide what to do about it.
Chapter Nine
When Bex arrivedto pick up Izzy from school, she was both relieved and disappointed to see Shane on traffic warden duty. Relieved, because she’d suspected Michael had been trying another of his tricks to get close to Izzy yesterday, and disappointed because despite her best efforts not to notice, he’d been sexy as hell in an orange vest. What kind of unicorn actually looked good in orange? She was convinced that color brought out the worst in everyone—except, apparently, for Michael Briggston. She’d never allowed herself to dwell much on his looks when she’d been with Wesley, but now she couldn’t seem to help herself.
From her park across the road, she watched Mandy Helm hit on poor Shane, who had a deer-in-the-headlights expression, and chuckled to herself. If he didn’t do something to dissuade his many admirers, he’d end up with a stepmother for Hunter and Dylan before the end of the year. Every divorcee and nanny in the area had their eye on him, but he was too nice to tell them to back off, and doting single dads who happened to look like a hot professor were in short supply. Izzy came out of the school yard, deep in discussion with her friend Lian, their heads bent together. When they reached the road, they each went their separate ways, and a moment later, Izzy climbed into the back seat.
“Hey, honey,” Bex said. “How was school?”
“It was great! We got to make up stories about imaginary people, and then Dawn hurt her knee, but Mr. Briggston fixed it. Did you know he likes cookies?”
Bex’s blood chilled, turning to liquid nitrogen in her veins. Slowly, she turned to her daughter. “You were with Mr. Briggston today?”
“Yeah, and his favorite type of cookie is chocolate and peanut butter. Do you think we could make some and take them to school?”
Bex was still trying to process what Izzy had said, and panic swelled in her chest. “What did I say about talking to strangers?” She fumbled with the key in the ignition, mentally running through options. She’d go to her parents’ place instead of heading home and leave Izzy there while she had words with Michael.
“Mr. Briggston isn’t a stranger,” Izzy said as they took off, speaking with a degree of certainty that made Bex gnash her teeth. “He’s the principal. He likes ice cream, too.”
The liquid nitrogen in her veins boiled over, icy fury building within her. “Is it normal for the principal to look after the sick bay?”
Izzy cocked her head. “No. But he was the only one at the desk.”