Page 8 of Savannah Sweethearts

Oh, this was going to be harder than I thought.

Tyrell

It was like no time had passed. But then the realization that a decade had gone by would rear its ugly head. I knew one thing for sure, though. I was not going to let Ashley Gloss go without a fight. And this time, I was prepared. I had a home, a career, and the wisdom to not back down from her father.

When I went to pick Sami and Saffi up at school on Monday, I took a very simple, small bouquet of those colorful daisies she always liked. I also got two single carnations for the girls. Because I’m that dad. When I walked up to the girls’ class, Miss Britt called for the girls and eyed the flowers.

“Those for someone special?”

Crud. Did she think they were for her? Then she winked, and I realized she was the one who had given Ashley my number. I smiled as the girls came running to me. I presented each of them with a beautiful pink carnation, and they squealed with delight.

Saffi eyed the other flowers. “Who are those for, Daddy?”

I had prepared for this question. “Do you know Miss Ashley across the hall? She’s an old friend of mine; and I’m so excited she’s my friend again, I got her flowers.”

Her sister looked from their single flowers to the bouquet with nine flowers. “Why does she get more than us?” There was a reason I called her Sassy Sami.

“Because she’s older.” Miss Britt came to the rescue.

Twin sets of doe eyes stared up at me. Saffi beat her sister to the question I knew was coming. “Is Miss Ashley your girlfriend?”

I squatted to be eye to eye with them. “No, she’s not. Maybe she will be one day. I don’t know. But right now, she’s just an old friend of mine—and one I’ve missed for a long time. Okay?”

They led me over to the door across the hall. Ashley had to have heard the entire exchange, but she waved to a child who was leaving instead of watching us approach. When she looked our direction, her eyes lit up.

“Miss Ashley, these are for you.” Sami made a show of her hands to present the flowers.

Color rose to her cheeks, and she pulled her dark hair over her shoulder as if to cover herself. “Oh my goodness. Really?” Her eyes met mine as I held them out for her. “You really didn’t have to.”

Now it was my turn to blush. I had felt like a knight in shining armor bringing them in, and now I felt like a crazy man giving them to her. “I know, but I wanted to.”

The tender moment was interrupted by Saffi announcing that her mother was there. The fluttering in my stomach turned into lead as Sabra approached us.

“What are you doing here today, Tyrell?” She crossed her arms in front of her and narrowed her eyes at us. “And why are you giving flowers to that teacher?”

My sweet Sami never knew when to keep her mouth shut. “She’s Daddy’s old friend, and he likes her.”

Drawn-on eyebrows shot up, and Sabra’s posture stiffened. “Excuse me? You’re hitting on this teacher in front of our children?”

Sabra and I had only been a one-time thing. We never dated. I know that made me look like a grade-A player, but she was a mistake. The girls were not, but Sabra was. I have never called her my ex, just the girls’ mom. She has brought boyfriend after boyfriend into and out of the girls’ lives, and I’ve tried really hard not to speak ill of her. Since the girls were born, I have had one semi-serious girlfriend who didn’t last long enough to introduce to the girls.

I ignored the comment and turned to Ashley. “Give me a minute, if you don’t mind.” I didn’t wait for an answer before approaching Sabra. Needing to control the level of my voice, I took a steadying breath.

“Ashley and I go way back; we knew each other in high school. I’m not hitting on her. I am bringing her flowers because she deserves them. If you notice, I also brought Sami and Saffi each a flower.” Another breath came through clenched teeth. “Now, it’s my day to get them, is it not?”

Sabra pouted. A thirty-year-old woman pouting was not attractive. “I know, Tyrell, but I thought we could do something as a family.” She pulled my arm around her waist and looked over my shoulder, I presume at Ashley and the girls.

Stepping back, I knew I needed to maintain my distance. “We spend Christmas and the girls’ birthday together and anything else that might be really important. And that’s it. No more than that. We may share Sapphire and Samirya, but we,”—I gestured between her and me—“are not a family.”

Anger rose up in her, and I wasn’t sure I could shield anyone from it. “Fine. Fine, Tyrell. Girls! Want to come home with Momma today?”

I could feel the girls crowd into the back of my legs, shaking their heads. “I have them today and tomorrow,” I reminded her.

“But I want them.” She stepped toward us and reached out for Sami. “Sami. Come with me.”

My Sassy Sami wasn’t afraid to speak up. “No. We want to be with Daddy. He’s nice, and Gigi makes us cookies.”

A scowl that could scare a lion came across Sabra’s face. “Unreal. Saffi? Want to come with Momma?”

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