Page 9 of The Road Trip Romance

She nods enthusiastically.

“Should I read a chapter?” I ask as I look from Lizzie to Sophia.

Lizzie giggles. “Of course, silly! Just one chapter, right, Mom?”

I glance back to Sophia who is leaning against the doorframe. “Yes, one chapter, but Mr. Tate might be tired, so why don’t we say eight pages because there are some long chapters.”

“But, Mom,” Lizzie whines making the last “m” in mom go on for a full three seconds. Then she puts on her best pouty face, her lower lip sticking out as she gives big puppy dog eyes. Sophia rolls her eyes.

“How about ten pages?” I negotiate.

Lizzie puts her hands together in a pleading motion. “Please, Mom, please!”

“Fine,” Sophia moans. “Goodnight, Lizzie-poo.” She walks over and kisses Lizzie’s forehead as she pulls the covers up over her daughter.

“’Night, Mom,” Lizzie replies as she looks over at me.Damn, this kid is awesome.I wonder for a fleeting moment what it would be like to have kids. Maybe if Lacey ever changes her mind and we get back together, I can find out. I hope I can…someday.

I open the book to where a bookmark with leopard spots is wedged between the pages and begin to read. Lizzie giggles at my impression of Hans. As I reach the ninth page, I notice her eyelids starting to sag and by the tenth page she can barely keep them open.

“OK, ten pages. We’ll have to continue later,” I say as I close the book and set it down on her nightstand. Lizzie keeps her eyes shut and curls up into a little ball.

“Goodnight, Mr. Tate,” she whispers. I pull the covers higher up around her.

“Goodnight Lizzie,” I whisper back. Giving her one more glance, I quietly back out of the room and turn off the light. I notice she has a night-light on her desk that projects stars onto her ceiling. I can’t help but smile at the free planetarium show as I walk into the hallway, closing the door behind me, just as Sophia shuts Cal’s door. She turns and runs into me. My hands instinctively grab her upper arms to steady her.

Her hand flies to her chest. “Shit, you scared me,” she whisper-yells.

I smile down at her. “Sorry about that.”

She steps back and I release her after a moment when I realize my hands are still wrapped around her arms. At the rink earlier, I had the strangest desire to reach out and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. And right now, I have that same feeling.

“Come on, we can go downstairs and talk, and I’ll get you set up in the playroom,” she offers as she turns and starts down the steps.

“I probably should have asked this before I let you read to my child. But you’re not like a serial killer or a pervert or something?” she asks as we turn toward her hallway.

“Not that I’m aware,” I reply.

“Good. I don’t usually let strange men stay the night in my home,” she states. Something about that statement makes me happy, but I’m not totally sure why I care if she has strange men here or not.

I follow her into the kitchen, and she opens the refrigerator and holds up a glass pitcher. “Water?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say.

“The water on the fridge is broken,” she explains as she motions to the water and ice spigots on the front of the appliance.

“Are you hungry? Sorry, I was so shocked seeing you here I think I’ve lost all my manners,” she adds with a laugh.

“I could eat,” I admit as my stomach growls as if answering her question.

She laughs. “Uh, what do movie stars eat?” she asks as she looks around her kitchen.

I look at a bowl of fruit on her counter. “You got any peanut butter that I can eat with that apple?”

“You have come to the right place,” she replies as she opens a pantry door. “Chunky, smooth, organic, or no sugar added?”

“Wow! Quite the selection. I hadn’t pegged you as a connoisseur. I’ll take the no sugar added,” I answer. She brings me the apple, a knife, and the jar of peanut butter along with a glass of water.

Sitting down, she watches as I cut up the apple and slather the peanut butter on each piece. “So, Tate, any particular reason you’ve shown up at my doorstep with no plans for a hotel room on a random Sunday night? I mean, your agent talking to mine about a contract would have sufficed,” she asks.

---