Page 27 of Falling for the Single Daddy

Emery sits in the library, staring at a book as if her sanity depends on it. It’s as if she doesn’t want to acknowledge reality, terrified of what it will do to her mind. I have to call Gray. I step out into the hallway, out of earshot of Emery but close enough to watch her.

“Sorry to call at work,” I say as soon as he answers.

“Is Emery okay?” he says.

Of course, that would be his first thought. “Sort of… Physically, yes. There hasn’t been an accident or anything like that.” I give him the rundown of what happened in the park, starting with the picnic and ending with the appearance of Sloane.

“Forfuck’ssake,” he snarls, sounding angrier than I’ve ever heard him. He sounds like he could go fully berserk. “What the hell was she thinking? And she said she was there doing book research. So she’s not even in Maplebrook to see her daughter, and yet she thinks she has a right to waltz back into her life and make her cry.”

“It was awful,” I admit. “Emery didn’t even sound sure it was her mother.”

“From your description, it was definitely Sloane. You did the right thing, Callie.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” I say. “I know it’s not my place to get involved, but the whole vibe just felt so off. It was like she thought Emery should run into her arms and play happy family. But Emery wasn’t even completely sure that Sloane was her mother.” I lower my voice. “It was really messed up.”

“Sloane’s only visited a few times,” he says. I can hear the rage in his voice, but he’s trying to bury it. Maybe he’s worried aboutletting his anger get out of hand, worried about what I’ll think, about what he’lldo. “And she said she was in town to research a book?”

“Yeah,” I say.

“Must be her latest passion,” he mutters. “She left us because she was going to be a photographer, and we were stifling her freedom.”

I almost ask him how they ever functioned as a couple since there’s clearly so much animosity and resentment, but that’s not my place. I should use this as a warning sign. It’s giving me an insight into what a relationship with Gray looks like… as if I needmorereasons we can never work. I just wish his taste would leave me the hell alone—or do I?

“Just keep Emery at home today,” he replies. “I’ll contact Sloane and see what she wants to do. Technically, I have full custody. She gave it to me. But as her mother, she has a right to see her, I suppose. But…” he sighs.

“You don’t want Emery getting attached, only for her to disappear again.”

“Exactly,” he says. “That’s a general concern I have, actually.”

Was that a dig at me? He doesn’t want Emery and me getting too close, only for whatever this is between us to ruin it. I decide not to respond… it would be so much easier if I could categorically say thathekissedme. But I can’t go that far. The moment just sort of happened.

After saying goodbye, I hang up and join Emery in the library. She doesn’t look up, just stares stubbornly down at her book. I want to comfort her, put my hand on her shoulder, give hera squeeze of support. But I don’t want to overstep. I have to remember I’m a professional. And Gray’s words are prominent in my mind. He doesn’t want his baby getting close to somebody if they’re not going to be here long-term.

“Are you enjoying your book?” I ask.

“Hmm,” she mutters.

“Would you like something to eat? To drink?”

She shakes her head. “Hmm.”

I open my own book, looking at the page, but also looking at Emery every so often. She reminds me of myself at her age, agony and resentment simmering beneath the surface. It’s like I can see the pain turning inward.

Are you excited for your daddy to come home?I almost ask, but there’s no point barraging her with conversation if she clearly doesn’t want to talk. I almost wish I was back with Jorge, with the twins, even if that had a host of other problems. At least, then, I never had to worry about being attracted to my boss or getting in the middle of a custody battle.

Chapter Thirteen

Gray

“It’s a novel,” Sloane says over the phone. “I’m setting it in Maplebrook. It’s reasonable that I’d visit for research. Don’t try to turn it into something it’s not.”

I leave the city, my head clouded with rage, doing my best to focus on the road as her voice comes from the speaker. She always sounds so goddamn pleased with herself, as if everybody else is an idiot for not seeing the obvious—that she’s right, and always has been, and always will be, according to her.

“It wasn’t fair to approach her in the park like that,” I say, keeping my voice level.

“It wasn’tfairto approach my owndaughter?”

“You heard me, Sloane,” I reply. “It’s been years. Two years, at least, since the last visit. Callie said she hardly recognized you.”

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