He kissed his fingertip and pressed it to the back of my hand before sliding out of the booth. The gesture was so sweet, I sat there dazed while he said goodbye to his family and loped out of the diner, every one of his long-legged strides doing something funny to my belly.
Oliver got up to go to the bathroom and I tucked away my notepad. Might as well wait to take notes when I spoke to Seth. I grabbed my book and my purse and was about to take off when Mr. Hamilton turned in the booth to smile at me. But it was the expression of a shark who scented blood.
Mine.
“It’s never going to happen, you know.” He stretched his arm along the back of the booth. “You’ve played a long game, but he’ll never settle down with you.”
My spine locked and I gripped my well-loved book until the pages crinkled. “I think you have me confused with your son’s ex-wife. I don’t play games.”
Except wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Pretending I wasn’t in love with Seth. That I could have a baby with him and we’d still be friends and everything would be hunky-dory.
Having a baby together was a life changer. A friendship changer. What would our new reality look like on the other side?
“No? I bet Laurie’s mother would have something to say about that.”
Not Seth’s ex-wife. Laurie’s mother. Another reality I didn’t like to face. That little girl didn’t just belong to him. She had a mother out there, and whether or not she’d been paid to split—and had accepted that payment—she could come back anytime. Rules were made to be broken. Contracts made to be ripped up.
Bonds meant to be rebuilt.
“Laurie’s mother’s feelings have nothing to do with me. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“No? She knew you would always be between her and her husband and she grew tired of second place.” Mr. Hamilton shifted back to face forward, adding over his shoulder, “Laurie not having her mother around is on you.”
Oliver approached the table as I stared at the back of his father’s head. Seth’s twin hadn’t returned to his own table, he’d come to mine.
“Hey, Al, you know next time you don’t have to whisper—” Oliver stopped and frowned. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
“Fine. I’m fine.” I started to slide out of the booth, but he halted my movement with a hand on my arm. “Don’t touch me,” I snapped.
He immediately drew back. “Okay. I won’t touch you. Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“Oliver,” Mr. Hamilton barked, but his son didn’t pay him any mind.
“I’m fine. Really. I just need some air. I think I’m getting the flu or something.” I attempted to get out of the booth and this time, Oliver let me pass.
My mistake was glancing up into his dark eyes, so familiar and so foreign at the same time. They matched Seth’s in color and shape, though not in feeling. Not in humor or mischief.
No one was like Seth. And maybe that did make me a game-player, because I’d been lying all this time. To myself most of all.
Now I wasn’t the only one without a mother. Laurie was too. I wasn’t dumb enough to completely believe what Mr. Hamilton had said, but if any part of it was true, it was too much.
Swallowing hard, I sidestepped Oliver and hurried out of the diner.
TWELVE
My day was goingto consist of chaperoning twenty-plus four-year-olds—and a three-year-old or two—and instead of drinking beforehand as any other intelligent father would be doing, I was again trying to bathe my daughter. Without success.
“I thought boys were the ones who didn’t like to take baths,” I muttered as Laurie gripped the edge of the bathroom door with both hands so she couldn’t be nudged any farther into the bathroom.
“Ally,” she said again. At this point, it was starting to become a chant.
“She’ll be here in a little while. Wouldn’t you like to be all dressed in your pretty party dress for her? She’s so excited to see it on you.”
Since the only reason Laurie even had a new party dress to wear was because of Ally taking pity on us and coming shopping with us last weekend, I’d wanted Laurie to be ready when Ally showed up. But naturally, my willful child was not having that. God forbid I demonstrate my competency at parenting even once per month.
Hell, per year at this rate.
“Wait for her.” Laurie changed tact and decided to push the door shut, effectively shoving me into the hallway. I slammed a hand on the wood, halting her efforts. It wasn’t much of a victory, considering she was four and all, but hey.