Page 59 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“Can I hold hands too?”

Gray chuckles. I laugh.

“Sure you can,” I tell her.

“Yippee!” She clasps both her hands around ours, grinning up at both of us.

***

Later, Emery is taking a nap. Wes has arrived with news from Sloane. We’re in the living room, and a light rain is falling outside. Gray’s best friend is looking at me so differently; it’s difficult to remember how distrustful he was when we first met.

“Sloane has checked herself into rehab,” Wes says.

Gray’s hand tightens on me, his surprise evident.

“I know,” Wes murmurs, glancing at his friend. “It shows a level of self-awareness I never would’ve anticipated in my sister. I know this might not mean much to you, Callie, Gray, but she’s been going through a rough time. All her life has been tough. It’s made her—” He cuts himself off with a dark sigh. “A bad person,” he continues as if it hurts him to say this. “I’ve tried to ignore it, to justify it, but I can’t. Seeing you happy for the first time in years, Gray, has changed my perspective. It’s forced me to take an honest look at the situation. Sloane was never right for you—she’s made mistakes.”

“She’s Emery’s mom,” I say. “If she can work on herself and come back in a position to care, I think that’s a great thing.”

Wes gasps, then smiles at Gray. “Is she putting this on?” he says, laughing.

Unlike the last time, when he seemed genuinely convinced I was pretending to be somebody I wasn’t, this was clearly a joke.

“This is who she is,” Gray replies, wrapping his arm around me. “You can’t fake perfection like this.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

As usual, warmth flutters through me at the kiss.

Wes takes something from his inside jacket pocket. “She’s written a note. I think it’ll explain things better than I can.” He clears his throat, then reads.“I’m aware I’ve behaved in ways embarrassing and dishonorable for a woman who calls herself a mother. I don’t want to blame my behavior on anybody or anything, but the fact is, I’ve been running from demons my entire life. I’m sorry that I threatened to drag Emery through the courts. That would’ve been a wicked thing to do. I was jealous when I saw you happy, Gray, but then I realized something… you could only be happy with her. Not me. Callie is as special to you as Emery should be to me. But I have put myself first too often. When I return, I hope you will let me see Emery in whatever capacity you see fit. I hope Callie can offer Emery her love and care. I hope we can find a way for all of us to coexist.”

I blink, shocked at the tears pricking my eyes. I’m imagining my mom writing something like that. I feel for her immediately, intensely. “I don’t want to replace her,” I murmur. “She’ll always have a place with Emery. Won’t she, Gray?”

I turn to find him looking down at me,hiseyes glistening.

“What?” I say.

“Just… you.” He leans down and kisses me briefly on the cheek. “For somebody who’s lived such a hard life, who’s been treated like crap when you never deserved it, you’re so forgiving.”

“Maybe I can only be forgivingbecauseI was treated that way,” I murmur. “And this is all about Emery. It has to be.”

“Thank you,” Wes says, tucking the letter away. “Really, Callie. I was a jerk to you when we first met. I’ve been trying to ignore Sloane’s bullcrap for years. But what she pulled with that Jorge asshat, that was just unacceptable. We had one hell of an argument, but she’s seen sense. I just hope she can stick to the path. And if not, then at least Emery has a maternal figure who cares about her.”

Finally, the tears start sliding down my cheeks. I nod, my vision blurring, unable to believe how lucky I am. Deep down, there’s a voice whispering,But what if he controls you? What if…?

“Callie, Daddy, can we have some pizza?” Emery calls, running into the living room, overflowing with happiness, and I couldn’t hear that small self-doubting voice if I tried.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Callie

“We don’t want to get lost, Emery,” I say as she eagerly leads me through the Maplebrook forest.

It’s been a week since Wes read Sloane’s letter to us. So far, Sloane has stuck to her word, remaining in rehab and dedicating herself to being a better person for her daughter. I’ve spent every day with Emery, taking her on playdates, telling her stories—behaving just like I did when I was her nanny. Except, now, it’s more special. I feel freer to bond with her and care for her. I don’t let fear of commitment or being boxed in flood me with terror or the urge to flee. Iembracethis beautiful life.

“We’re not getting lost,” Emery says, tugging on my hand as we slip into a clearing and then into some more densely clustered trees. “You’llsee.”

I’d be sure she was leading me on a wild goose chase if she didn’t seem so confident. One thing I’m learning about Emery is that she’s so advanced and clever for her age; when she seems certain about something, there’s definitely a reason. Finally, she stops before we break through the trees into a second clearing.

“C-A-L-L-I-E,” she says in a singsong voice, beaming up at me. “Are yousureyou want to be happy forever and ever?”

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