“Dada?” Zoe blinked at me.
“Oh wow. She has totally got your number.” Briar laughed.
Adam laughed too. “She has us all wrapped around her finger.”
“Here.” Briar handed the cheese-stained kitchen towel to Zoe. “Let’s get to work so you can get some lunch.”
Zoe immediately rubbed the towel over the top of Briar’s head.
My heart stuttered in my chest watching the two of them. Briar’s face lit up with her laughter at Zoe’s intent concentration on cleaning Briar.
This. This was what I’d wanted for so long.
Adam was right.
She was perfect.
And now totally off limits.
Adam sidled up to me and asked under his breath, “So what do you think?”
We both watched Briar and Zoe bend to wipe up the mess. Zoe happily babbled away while Briar nodded and actually cleaned up the mess behind Zoe’s efforts.
I sighed. “You were right. Show her the room and have her sign the contract if she still wants.” I could practically hear Adam gloating. “Can you at least try to be a gracious winner?”
Adam smirked. “Doubtful.”
I just shook my head and watched Zoe and Briar another minute. Despite the way they clicked, a sense of doom settled into my stomach. This wasn’t going to end well. None of them had so far. Only now I was worried that Zoe was the one who’d end up with the broken heart this time.
And I’d fight like hell to make sure that’d never happen. The second Briar proved herself unworthy, I’d boot her ass out.
I had to protect my little girl. No matter what.
Chapter Three
Briar
It was moving day.
To say I was nervous was an understatement.
And my parents weren’t making it any better.
“Are you sure you want to move into this guy’s house?” My dad asked as he heaved my huge suitcase into my trunk. “I don’t like this.”
I sighed and curbed the urge to roll my eyes. “I understand you have reservations, Dad, but I’ll be fine. I’m thirty years old. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s just…” My mom huffed. “I just don’t trust any of those Hollywood types. You know they all swan around like the rules don’t apply to them. I worry about you living with one.”
“We’re not in a relationship, Mom. He’s my employer. Besides, I doubt I’ll see much of him. I’m there because he can’t be. My whole job is taking care of his daughter because he’s working.” No pressure. I might be saying all the right things to my parents, but I was also saying them for me too. I’d never done this before. The longest I’d been in charge of my preschoolers was like three hours. Now I’d have a whole day to fill. My stomach danced at the thought.
“I know, kiddo.” Mom shrugged. “Doesn’t make me worry any less about you.”
I smiled. “And I love that you do. But I really need to get on the road. You know traffic will be insane, and I’m supposed to start today. I don’t want to be late.”
“Because if you’re late—” Dad paused and raised his eyebrows.
“You might as well not show up,” I finished for him. Since he’d worked as a general contractor in commercial construction my whole life, the saying was practically our family motto. My dad had drilled punctuality into us our whole lives. I’d been the most reliable teenaged employee at Marie Callender’s restaurant in high school.