Page 67 of Daddy's Unexpected Gift

“I was told Cecelia Harrison lives here.”

I stepped back, giving this unknown person room when she took a step toward me. She wiggled her hips from side to side and flipped her hand over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. “Her? Yeah, she’s in there.”

She sashayed away, leaving the door open.

“Don’t just leave the door open! Jeez, who the hell is it?” I heard Cecelia call out from inside the apartment. “I fucking hate this place.”

“Cecelia?” I called out before stepping inside.

The apartment was dark with just the flicker of the TV. It took my eyes a moment to adjust.

“Sterling?” she asked as she uncurled from a pile of blankets on the couch.

“Cecelia.” After I closed the front door, I put Georgie’s car seat down and went to her, arms outstretched.

She came to me, and then I had her in my arms. She clutched me with desperation.

I peppered her hair with kisses and smoothed my hand over her head and shoulders. She shook in my arms. I knew she was crying.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you now. It will be okay.” Cecelia clutched my arms and looked up into my face. Hers was streaked with tears.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you. You just left,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t care. I had to leave. They made me come here for the job.” She took in a shaky breath.

Guiding her back to the couch, I pulled her down with me so that I could continue to hold her. She settled in against my chest. I held her for a long, quiet moment. My heart settled, finally at peace at having her back where she belonged.

And then she hit me. It wasn’t a hard hit, but she slapped her hand against my chest. “You made me think I was crazy and that you wanted to break up. Why didn’t you say anything? You just let me leave.” She sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

I reached out to wipe away her tears, and she swatted at my hand like an angry cat.

“I’m sorry about that.” I closed my eyes and searched for the right words. “I messed up. You were upset, and then Georgie was screaming. I didn’t know what to do. I was going to make the wrong move no matter what I did. By not doing anything, I still made the wrong move. You were hurt and angry. And you dropped a couple of bombs on me. You thought Peggy Stanholt was spying on me, on us. And you were moving. My brain latched onto your moving when Georgie started screaming.”

Cecelia wiped her face again and pushed off the couch. She crossed the small living room and crouched down to look at Georgie.

“I missed you, baby,” Cecelia said softly. She looked over at me. “I missed you too.”

“I’ve been miserable,” I admitted. “Have you been here the entire time? Did you come back to Dallas at all?”

She shook her head. “I closed up my apartment, expecting to have to pack up and move. But they keep stringing me along. And as long as they are giving me a place to live, I guess this is what I’m doing for now.”

“You don’t want to be here,” I said.

She shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice right now. And no, I don’t. But job leads are scarce, and I need a job with benefits right now. I can’t just go back to being a cashier.”

“Why?”

She glared at me.

“No, sorry, stupid question. Yes, insurance is important. I figured you left your phone back in Dallas, then?”

Cecelia nodded. “And my bag. At first, I thought that had been dumb. It's a good bag. But with the roommate I’ve had this week, I’m glad I didn’t bring anything valuable. I don’t trust her. But yeah. The phone and all that are back at my place in Dallas. Why?”

“I’ve only left you about a million voicemails. I fucked up, Cecelia. It didn’t take me too long to figure that out. But you never returned any of my calls. All I knew is you were in Amarillo. It’s not like the director of your office would tell me where you went.”

“How did you find me?” she asked.

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