Page 78 of Who's Your Daddy
After all that, the woman still insisted that what we shared wouldn’t happen again. She asked for space. So that’s what I’ll give her. For now. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz. Shakespeare would be proud.
Once I’ve changed, I knock on Murphy’s open door and lean on the frame. He’s tying his shoes which is a skill T. J. still hasn’t mastered. This kid is so beyond his years in many, many ways. I wish I could just be proud, because he’s bloody brilliant, but his abilities stem from having to do far too much for himself, and that makes my heart ache painfully.
He straightens, brow furrowing. “You okay?”
I affect a casual expression. “Of course. You just about ready?”
With a nod, he stands. “Is Lola coming?”
The smile that splits my face can’t be avoided. I like hearing her name. But more than that, I like that Murphy likes her. That he’s asking for her.
“No, she’s staying home for the night.”
Lips twisted, he breaks into a thoughtful expression. “You know T.J.’s mom?”
I straighten and slip my hands into my pockets. “Auntie Sloaney?”
Murphy nods. He’s not quite ready to consider the lot of us family. Aunt, uncle, Dad. The titles may be a step too far for him yet. With any luck, we’ll get there in time.
“What about her?”
“She stayed here last night.”
“What?” My heart jumps in my chest.
“Yeah.” He nods a single time. “She put us to bed and then shehad breakfast with us this morning.” The blue of his irises deepens as he zeroes in on me. “Why can’t Lola do that?”
Tucked the boys inandstayed for breakfast? No wonder my brother was smiling.
With a grin, I point at Murphy. “You know, you’ve got a point. Why can’t she?”
Chapter 26
Lola
Sloane: Since I’m getting T.J. at two why don’t we meet for brunch near you?
Igrimace at the message. Sloane and I have met for brunch on Sunday for years, and after this weekend I’m all in. I need to know what happened with her and Sully.
But in Jersey?
I’d much prefer to make the drive to the city. Meet at one of our usual places, where the staff knows us well enough to greet us with our go-to drinks already prepared. We’ll never find that kind of quality or service here.
My phone buzzes again.
Cal: How are you this morning my lovely Lola? I heard a funny thing. Do you know anything about Sloane sleeping over?
My mind goes offline for half a second. The “my” part of that sentence has short-circuited my brain. I shake my head. Before I can think too hard on that, I focus on the other part of his message. Sloane.Shit.
Me: How do you know that?
Cal: How do you know that? Where exactly did she sleep?
Me: I might know something about that. But what have you heard?
Cal: I know something too. Tell me what you know and I’ll tell you what I know.
Me: I can’t do that. You tell me.
