Page 29 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

This explains why he bought toys, at least.

“I love it!” she shouts, dropping the box onto the tile floor. “I miss you.”

“I know. I miss you too.”

The little girl pulls Alec’s arm impatiently. “I want to show you something.”

Alec allows her to pull him into the living room, and I’m not sure if I should stay put or follow along. I decide to move at least into the home fully.

Terry comes behind me, catching my attention. “He’s never been good at introducing people. Hi, I’m Callie’s babysitter.”

Callie.

I give her a soft smile. “Summer.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I respond, my eyes drifting back to where Alec and this little girl—Callie—are playing inside a small blow-up ball pit. I’m trying to make sense of this and failing. So, I watch them play for a few minutes, keeping to myself. But as I really look at Callie, my eyebrows crease. Her hair color matches Alec’s, and her skin is just as tan as his.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, and panic begins to claw at my throat.

Holy shit.

Is this… his daughter?

I’m very accepting, but if he has to sneak around to visit his daughter, he’s far from what I thought, and I shouldn’t be here. My father calling Alec a lowlife crosses my mind, and everything starts to make sense.

I should have known from the start that this guy isn’t as dreamy and perfect as I thought he was and that he would have just as much baggage as the next person. This, though, is not something I should be wrapped up in.

Alec gives Callie a smile and holds her hand as they walk to me. “Callie, I want to introduce you to my friend, Summer.” He then looks at me. “Summer, this is my little sister.”

My eyes widen slightly, and I look at Callie. Her smile is so warm and inviting.

“Hi, Summer,” she says and waves her hand repetitively. “I like your jammies. Purple is my favorite color.”

And just like that, the panic stops.

Chapter Ten

Alec

After leaving my aunt’s house, I drive straight to the closest Deli to grab Summer a sandwich and a bag of chips, then park in my usual spot at one of my favorite hilltops. It’s high up and farther into the woods, giving a beautiful view of the horizon.

Since my parents died, this has been the only place I enjoy coming when I need to think.

We both sit in silence while Summer scarfs down her sub. From the looks of it, she hasn’t eaten much in a few days, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

Why should I care?

I’m only hanging out with her to get her to fall for me enough to fight for my charges to be dropped. Once my charges are dropped, I’ll be able to see my sister more often without being arrested. Having Summer wrapped around my finger will only cause Charles Raleigh to give up everything for his precious, perfect angel.

Summer finishes her sandwich, crumples up the wrapper, and stuffs it into the plastic bag it came in. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. You should probably eat more often,” I state.

She laughs. “Yeah, well, it hasn’t really been the greatest few weeks. I often forget to.”

My jaw ticks, and I wish I could explain why. Could it be because, deep down, I actually care?

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