Page 12 of Swooning for the Summer Manny

“Happy Birthday, Ryan!” shouts Amelia, gleefully spinning in the neon pink party dress she has on.

“Wow. Thank you,” I say, caught off guard by how much this all means to me. I lean forward to blow out the candles, but Amelia stops me before I can.

“Don’t forget to make a wish,” she says.

I smile, silently think of my wish, and blow out the candles with a single breath.

Three hours later, I’ve danced to the entire party playlist Amelia made. I know I need to leave soon, but I’m soaking up these last few minutes before I go. This evening was close to perfect, and I don’t want it to end yet.

When I come back inside from taking out the trash, I look over at the couch and see Amelia sprawled across the cushions, asleep, a contented smile on her face. I gently take the party hat off her head, then walk into the kitchen, where Karin is tidying up.

“She’s passed out on the couch,” I say, setting the party hat on the counter.

“Aw,” Karin says. “I’ll wake her and get her to bed.”

“I could carry her up, if you want.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

“Give me two seconds. I’ll come with you.”

We head back into the living room together, and I carefully scoop up Amelia from the couch. She murmurs in her sleep but doesn’t wake up. When we reach Amelia’s room, Karin goes in first and pulls back the sheets.

I lay Amelia down and Karin tucks her in. I watch as Karin presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and whispers something soft that I can’t hear. Then we walk out of the room together, Karin closing the door behind us.

“Thank you, Ryan,” she says, smiling softly at me. “I mean, not just for that. But for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“I can tell it’s more than just a job to you. You care. That means a lot to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She looks at me for a few quiet moments. “I feel like I need to apologize again for last week. I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry again for doing something so inappropriate.”

The memory of our kiss, still so vivid in my mind, makes heat spread through my sternum. “I’m sorry for kissing you back.”

“For the record, if our situation was different…” she says, but then her words drift off.

I study her. “What? Finish that sentence.”

“I’d want…I don’t know.” She laughs a little. “God, look at me. Getting all flustered.”

“It’s sweet.”

“I’d want to date you,” she says in a rush. “That’s what I wanted to say.”

“I’d like that,” I say, my chest growing even warmer.

Our eyes are locked, and the air between us feels charged with electricity. It’s taking so much fucking effort right now to not push those beautiful curves of hers up against the wall and kiss her.

“I’ll walk you out,” she finally says.

But her voice sounds weak. And when we start to walk back up the hallway, she moves slowly, as if it’s taking great effort to move her feet.

“Would it be so wrong?” I ask.

---