Page 57 of Married to the Frenemy

I glance over my shoulder and meet her gaze. “Anytime, Haley. I mean it.”

She gives a slight nod, then turns around, continuing to clean the kitchen.

I head up the stairs and pause outside Maggie’s door that’s slightly ajar. “Maggie?” I knock softly. “Are you ready?”

“Yup!”

I push the door open, smiling as she slides down her bed. With a blanket and her favorite stuffed elephant in her hands, she heads toward the oversized chaise lounge I bought after I noticed Haley standing beside Maggie’s bed to read to her. This way, they can snuggle together on the chair before Maggie climbs up into her bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask as Maggie sits in front of the bookcase, pulling book after book out of it and stacking them in a lopsided pile.

“Picking out the books I want you to read!”

I narrow my gaze at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Your mom said you have a three-book limit.”

She gives me a pleading look that would rival the puppy-dog eyes Monte reserves for when he wants a treat. “Please, Beck. You never read to me. And I want you to read all these books.”

“I tell you what, squirt.” I crouch down to her level. “I’ll talk to your mom and ask if we can take turns reading to you at night. How does that sound?”

Her expression lights up. “For real life?”

I chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “For real life. Now pick three.”

She scowls, but it only lasts a second before she has three books picked out. And they’re three books I bought for her upon my sister’s recommendation.

I climb into the chaise lounge and arrange Maggie beside me, my heart expanding when she rests her little head on my chest. I’ve spent the past few months living with this little human, but I’ve never held her like this. There’s something so innocent and pure about it.

And something absolutely terrifying, too.

It makes me appreciate everything Haley’s sacrificed for her even more. I’m not sure I would have had the strength to do what she did — continue her pregnancy with no support. It’s further proof of how tough she is. How much she’s changed since everything fell apart. She’s no longer the scared teenager who refused to stand up to her parents and fight for what she wanted.

She’s already done that.

It’s more than I can say for myself.

I snuggle Maggie closer to me as I read her a story about a farting dog who ends up saving his family from a bunch of burglars, thanks to his putrid gas problem.

When Dylan recommended it to me, I questioned whether a book about a farting dog would be appropriate for a four-year-old. But I can’t ignore the message inside — to accept everyone, even if they’re not perfect.

Noticing a movement out of the corner of my eye, I look up and meet Haley’s gaze as she leans against the doorjamb, a heartwarming smile pulling on her lips. I return her smile before continuing to read to Maggie. Even though she’s already asleep, I’m in no rush to finish, savoring the warmth of her in my arms.

When I finally reach the end of the book and place it on top of the pile, Haley starts toward us.

“I got her,” I whisper so as to not wake Maggie.

I can’t help but laugh at the fact that she initially wanted me to read every book she owned, yet she couldn’t even manage to stay awake for the first one.

Carefully arranging her in my arms, I stand and carry her to her bed, easily hoisting her over the railing and onto her mattress. After covering her with blankets, I smooth her auburn curls out of her face and touch a gentle kiss to her temple.

“Sweet dreams, pipsqueak.”

I move toward the lamp in the corner, but Haley stops me. “She sleeps with that on. It’s like a nightlight for her.”

“Right. Sorry.”

I leave the light on and follow Haley into the hallway, closing the door gently behind us.

“She’s a great kid,” I say, still keeping my voice low.

---