Page 19 of Before This Ends (Before)

“Probably.” His gaze fills with worry. “Is that okay? I can try to be back before then if?—”

“No,” I cut him off and hold up my hand. “It’s honestly not a big deal. I just don’t know how long your workday is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I have no plans, and tomorrow, I was just going to catch up on laundry. I can be here as long as you need.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, glancing toward the living room. “It’s just this case I got yesterday, and?—”

“You don’t have to explain. Winter will be okay, and I’ll be here.” I know what he does, or I at least get the gist of his job. And I can imagine it’s difficult wanting to be around for your kid but knowing there is someone on the streets who could harm someone else if they’re not caught in time. The amount of pressure he must feel as a detective and basically a single dad isn’t something any normal person could ever really understand. I know I don’t.

“Thanks, Em.”

“Stop thanking me.”

“Stop acting like you’re not saving my ass,” he counters, glancing past me, and I look back at Winter when he does and find she is now sitting on the floor in front of the couch, bent over a low-profile black coffee table and coloring. “I should take off.”

“Yeah.” I focus back on him and can tell with one glance that he doesn’t look happy about having to leave.

“I’ll call and check in.”

“Sure.” I give him a reassuring smile. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks, Em.” He gives my arm a squeeze, then moves around me. I turn and watch him walk to the living room and squat next to Winter. I can’t hear what he says, but he must say something to annoy her, because she rolls her eyes before getting up and wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him. When he lets her go, she goes back to coloring, and his eyes come to me for a brief moment. Then, like smoke, he’s gone, and the door is closing behind him.

Taking a sip of coffee, I walk into the living room and have a seat on the edge of the couch to watch Winter work on a picture of a castle. She’s colored it pink, with a gray horse standing regally in front of it.

“Do you think Daddy will be okay?”

The quiet question surprises me, but my heart hurts when she looks back at me with worry in her pretty brown eyes that are almost the same color as mine.

“Of course I do.” I smooth her dark hair out of her face.

“He catches bad guys and—” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “—sometimes I worry that he won’t come home.”

“I can promise your dad will always do everything in his power to come home to you, Winter. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” I say gently.

She nods before turning back to her coloring book, and I let out a long breath.

CHAPTER9

miles

Opening the door to my place, I find the TV still on with the volume low, and the light above the stove in the kitchen the only other source of light. Shrugging off my coat, I hang it on the hook near the door, then walk down the single step into the sunken living room.

Rounding the back of the couch, I stop to stare at Emma, who’s asleep with Winter’s fuzzy blankets pulled up to her shoulder, her head resting on one of the throw pillows. Her long hair is out of the ponytail she had it in this morning and fanned out behind her. I must have gotten a dozen pictures from her today while she and Winter were out and about. A few were of the two of them together and obviously taken by someone else as they smiled, hugging each other, or made silly faces at the camera. The others were of Winter alone, doing things like petting a kangaroo, riding the carousal, and eating cotton candy.

The constant stream of pictures that made me smile each time they arrived stopped coming in around four. I called at five-thirty to check in, only to be greeted by music blasting in the background and to find out that they were making dinner at home. For the two seconds I got Winter on the phone, I could hear the happiness in her voice, and there wasn’t even a question asked about when I would get home. Normally, that would be the first question out of her mouth. Then again, Winter has never done much more than go to the grocery store with Karen, and I’m pretty sure Karen would not agree to listening to music at dance-club level while cooking—or any time, for that matter. So Winter was on cloud nine.

After I hung up with them, I called back around seven to remind Winter to brush her teeth, but she already had and was at that point hanging on the couch with Emma, watchingTangled, one of her favorite Disney movies. At eight-thirty, Emma sent a text to let me know Winter was in bed and asleep, which was surprising, since on weekends she usually attempts to stay up as late as she can and is not in bed until closer to ten. Then again, she had a full day and was likely exhausted.

“Miles.” Hearing my name called from a sleepy-sounding Emma, I snap out of my thoughts and find her pushing to sit up as she looks around, as if in a daze. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“You had a long day.”

“The best day,” she corrects with a smile aimed at me. Fuck she’s beautiful. Tucking a thick chunk of hair behind her ear her gaze locks on mine. “How was your day?” she asks softly, tipping her head to the side and studying me.

“Shitty,” I mutter, and her face instantly goes soft, which is fascinating to watch.

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