Page 28 of The Parent Pick-Up
She laughs so hard, she snorts. “That’s not the word I was looking for.”
I grab her around the waist and pull her close. “I kind of love it when you snort.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, smiling up at me. “I kind of love it that you’re so prepared.”
“Ivy?”
“Yes?”
I run my nose along hers. “Do you want to have a sleepover with me?”
She threads her fingers through my hair. “I’d like that.”
I lower my head to hers, and our mouths meet. The kiss is so all-consuming that I barely register the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“Owen!”
The sound of my name has me stepping back in surprise. I look up, and there’s my ex-wife, standing in the door jam
“What are you doing here?” I glance behind Emily, my heart beating wild. “Is Hannah okay?”
Emily crosses her arms. “You’d know if you were answering your phone.”
Panic rises in my chest, and I feel my face grow hot. “What’s wrong? Is she hurt?”
“I guessyou’rethe reason why Owen isn’t answering his phone.” Emily’s gaze zeroes in on Ivy, taking in her mussed hair and plush robe.
“Where’s Hannah?” I demand.
“She fell asleep in the car,” Emily says, still staring at Ivy. “You look familiar.”
I step between Ivy and Emily. “What’s wrong with Hannah?”
Emily lifts her chin at me. “Nothing.”
My shoulders inch down from my ears. “She’s okay?”
“Yes.” Emily shakes her head. “No.”
“What does that mean?”
“She’s being a brat. She hasn’t stopped whining since I picked her up.”
I’m torn between relief and frustration. “You’re saying you brought Hannah all the way home at—” I check the clock on the oven. “Nearly midnight because she was complaining too much?”
“I took her shopping and to high tea at the resort, and she complained the entire time.”
“Maybe you should have asked her if she wanted to go shopping or to high tea.”
“She missed the field trip. Her piano lessons stink. She wants a puppy.” Emily ticks off Hannah’s complaints, then narrows her eyes at Ivy. “You look like…”
Before she can say anything else, I usher Emily to the door. Once we are outside and I’ve peeked in the car to make sure Hannah is safe and sound, asleep in the backseat, I let Emily have a piece of my mind.
“She’s nine years old; she’s going to complain sometimes.” I glare down at her, wondering what I ever saw in her. “You can’t just give up on her because she doesn’t like what you planned.”
But Emily is not even listening. “Who is that woman?”
“She’s none of your business.”
