Page 27 of Educating Arrogant Mr. Hunter

Zoey turned toward me. Heartache shadowed her eyes, and I hated that I couldn’t banish it. I held out my arms to offer the only comfort I had. Without hesitation, she rushed into them, her sobs shaking her tiny body.

“I miss her so much.” Her low-pitched voice was barely loud enough to hear. I rubbed my hand up and down her back a few times before lifting her into my arms.

“I know, baby. And I’ll be here for you anytime you’re sad or want to talk about your mom. Okay?”

She wailed with a hiccuping sob and buried her face against my neck.

I held her tight and tucked her head beneath my chin. With each cry that burst from her, I rocked my body side to side like I used to do when she was a toddler.

Wren moved closer and lifted her hand to Zoey’s back. Her eyes sought mine in approval before she rubbed a soothing hand up and down.

Eventually, Zoey quieted and wiped her nose on my shirt. “Ugh, that’s gross, Zo,” I said, giving her a playful grimace.

She giggled and pretended to do it again.

She could do that a hundred times, and I’d take it if it made her smile. Anything to help her deal with her grief, I’d happily do. Her laughter helped diminish the fear that I would fail my daughter in the way she needed me the most.

She wiggled free and faced Wren. “Thank you, Ms. Winter. It helps to know I’m not alone in how I feel.”

“You’re never alone. And if it’s okay with your dad, you can talk to me anytime. Just know I’ll need to contact him if I get worried about you.”

Zoey tilted her head to the side while she contemplated Wren’s words. “Okay.”

I laid my hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “I’m okay with you talking to Ms. Winter, and maybe we can talk about finding a group for you to join that has kids who understand what you’re going through.” I’d encouraged this when Heather died, but Zoey wasn’t interested.

Now she shrugged. “Maybe.”

It was the best I could hope for. “Why don’t we all get in the car and head home,” I suggested.

We climbed into the car in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. When I said goodbye to Wren as I dropped her off at her place, I turned in my seat to see Zoey’s head hanging forward, and her fast asleep.

With a soft smile, Wren thanked me for the lift home. My gaze gravitated to the navy dress that cupped her backside. I wanted her. My dick hardened as my eyes stayed glued to her tantalizing body. I wanted to lift her up, press her against the brick building she walked towards, and find every spot on her body that made her scream.

She turned and waved goodbye, jerking me out of my erotic fantasy. I shook my head to dislodge my dirty thoughts. The point of watching her was to ensure she’d gotten inside safely before heading home. Not wondering what sounds she’d make with me pounding into her from behind.

I had to stop thinking of Wren sexually. I had far more critical issues to worry about than getting laid.

I glanced back at Zoey and wondered if I’d be enough for her or if her grandparents were right and they could provide a better life.

* * *

I juggled the grocery bag in my hands and knocked on the bright yellow front door of the small ranch.

My mom opened the door, her light brown eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Beckett, what are you doing here?”

“And me. Don’t forget me, Mimi.” Zoey popped up by my side.

“I could never forget you, my darling girl. You’re my favorite granddaughter.”

Zoey gave Mom a look that would make her teenage self proud. “I’m youronlygranddaughter, Mimi.”

“Which clearly makes you my favorite.” She opened the door wider. “Come in, you two.”

We walked directly into her living room. Tissues were in a small wastebasket by the coffee table and empty mugs rested on top.

“I thought you were feeling better.” I put the bag on the armchair to my right and scrutinized her appearance. Her shoulder-length brown hair threaded with silver was pulled up into a ponytail, an uncharacteristic style choice for her, and she still had on her two-piece flannel pajamas. She wasn’t coughing, and her face had a healthy glow.

Mom swept her hand at the mess. “I am. I just needed more rest yesterday and planned to clean this up today.” When I contacted her on Wednesday, she told me she’d gone to her doctor and had been diagnosed with bronchitis.

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