Page 73 of Imperfect Arrangement
But Willow shakes her head, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Oh, but she’s not getting out of this. She caught me off guard and now it’s payback time. With a single step, I close the distance between us, capturing her outstretched hand before she can make her escape.
“Backsies aren’t allowed in this house, Miss Pershing. You should know that by now. Isn’t that right, Bug?” I pull Willow gently toward the center of the room.
Quill nods with all the authority of an official referee, her hands mimicking my words. Her eyes sparkle as she signs, “No backsies, Willow!”
Willow tries one last time. “Raymond?—”
But I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. Not tonight. Not when having her here with me and Quill feels so damn natural, so right. I don’t want to think about anything other than how seamlessly she fits into this room, this moment, our lives.
I slide my hand to her waist, my movements slow, deliberate, giving her an opportunity to pull away. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stares at me—half shocked, half amused and that’s all the encouragement I need.
I guide her into a classic ballroom hold and Willow follows effortlessly, like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
“Aren’t you a surprise?” I murmur, raising a brow at her flawless steps. But why am I even shocked? Since day one, Willow Pershing has been defying every expectation, proving time and again that she’s everything I never saw coming.
Her lips twitch, and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so shocked, Teager. I run a B and B that hosts weddings. Not knowing ballroom dancing would be a crime.”
I chuckle, spinning her in a twirl that makes her pink dress flare out. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed how Quill and Willow have started to color coordinate their dresses. My chest tightens. Before I can let myself linger on it, Quill claps her hands, pulling my attention back to her.
“Daddy, dip!” she signs enthusiastically.
“What?” Willow’s brow furrows in confusion, but I don’t wait to explain. I lean forward, dipping her low. Her hazel eyes go wide, and she grabs my forearms like her life depends on it. “Raymond!” she squeaks.
But before she finds her footing again, I let my stubble graze her cheek like I did with Quill. A playful, innocent act—until it happens.
Quill giggles.
Not the silent, shoulder-shaking kind, but an actual audible, soft, beautiful giggle.
My arms tighten instinctively around Willow as my head whips toward my daughter. She stands there, oblivious to the seismic shift she just created and signs, “Amazing, Dad.”
My breath catches. She doesn’t even realize what she’s done.
I glance down at Willow, who’s smiling wide, her eyes misty. Her hand rises, brushing against my chest as she whispers, her voice trembling with the same emotion thrumming through me. “Yes, amazing, Dad. Really amazing.”
For a moment, everything else fades. It’s just the three of us—me, my little bug, and the woman who’s slowly but surely making herself a permanent part of our lives.
A SHIRTLESS TEACHER
WILLOW
Iscroll through the email from Elixir Estates’ design team, clicking open the attachments filled with layout proposals for the interiors. Each image makes my chest tighten. Gramps’s dream is right there in glossy mock-ups, so close I can almost touch it. I never imagined this would feel so…easy.
But then, like clockwork, guilt creeps in, whispering that I’m taking more out of this arrangement than I’m giving back to Raymond. The thought sits heavy, but I shake my head, refusing to let it take root. I made a deal with Raymond—yeah, except every moment I spend with him and Quill feels real in ways I never expected, filling my heart with emotions I can’t name. But even if my heart is tripping over feelings I can’t make sense of, I know one thing—I’ll be the best caretaker, the most reliable nanny, and the truest friend to Quill. That’s the job I signed up for, and I’ll do it with absolute perfection.
The vibrating buzz of my phone pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. I glance down, and of course, it’s Raymond.
Raymond: There’s something important I need to tell you.
No hi. No hello. Straight to the point, as always.
Once upon a time, I found his bluntness irritating, and now, it’s one of the things I admire most about him. No fluff, no pretense, just honest, unapologetic Raymond Teager. He’s everything one would want in a man—everythingI’dwant in my man. The thought comes out of nowhere, hitting me like a rogue wave.
Calm the heck down, Wills.
Raymond: It’s Quill’s birthday next week. Our little bug will be seven.
I blink at the wordour. It lingers in the air, curling around my heart like a warm hug.
