Page 12 of Protecting the Boundary
Her face breaks out in a giant smile—bigger than any she’s ever given me—and she wipes her eyes before she slides off his lap and runs past me toward the main house. “Be right back!”
I laugh and try to wrap my head around the whiplash I just got. How is it that little kids can bounce back from such big emotions so quickly?
Romel stands, gripping his neck. “Sorry about that. She’s got a lot of separation anxiety when it comes to me. It’s gotten worse as she’s gotten older.”
I shake my head. “The apology isn’t necessary. I get it. My dad said I was the same way when I was little. I don’t remember it as much.”
He stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Larissa said you lost your mom when you were a baby?”
“Yeah, she died from complications with her delivery.”
His gaze moves to where his daughter went. “Did you miss her?”
I chew my lip and lean back against the wall. “It’s hard to miss someone you’ve never met. I missed the idea of her, if that makes sense. My dad showed me pictures and videos of her all the time growing up. It felt a lot like she was a relative I knew about but had never seen in person. So I cared about her, but not in the same way I cared about people I saw regularly.”
“That makes sense.”
Since I’m so close with my dad, I know what he’s really worried about—it’s the same fear my dad voiced more than once when I was growing up. “You’re a great dad, Romel. I’ve only spent a little time with you and yet that’s clear as day. She’s not lacking for love just because she doesn’t have a mom.”
He looks down at the floor and I know I was right. How can he even doubt what a great dad he is when his daughter soclearly loves him? When he’s the one person she seeks for comfort?
It seems my duties—whether he knows it or not—are to not only take care of Kaylee, but to help Romel see that he’s not failing her.
SEVEN
My alarm goes off at five a.m. so I can be up before Kaylee wakes up at five thirty. I get out of bed and head downstairs to get my first cup of coffee so I can be somewhat functional by the time Kay is awake. It’s unfair that kids can wake up before the sun has even risen with enough energy to power a whole city, while the rest of us struggle just to function.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I stare out the kitchen window to the backyard and notice the net over the pool is off.
My brows furrow.What the hell?
Panic hits me that Kaylee might’ve woken up before me and gone outside. I rush out the door only to stop two feet from the pool when I see long, tanned arms slicing through the water.
Meredith’s body glides effortlessly, like she’s been swimming every day of her life. I try to steady my erratic heart rate from the panic of worrying Kay got into the pool without supervision, but the longer I watch her, the more chaotic my heartbeat seems to get.
My jaw clenches as she stops at the edge of the pool to catch her breath. She turns her head in my direction and jerks.
“Shi—” she catches herself before the curse word fully leaves her lips. “You scared me.”
I scowl at her. “What are you doing?”
Her eyes go wide at my question—or maybe it’s because I delivered it like an accusation. “I wanted to get a workout in before Kaylee woke up. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”
“Yes, you should’ve.” My jaw clenches tight at the slightly wounded expression in her gaze. I don’t know why I’m being such an asshole. I scrub my face and let out a breath. It doesn’t do anything to calm my heart rate, but it does clear my head a little. “Sorry. Of course you can use the pool. I just thought Kay had gotten out here on her own.”
Understanding dawns on her face. “I’m so sorry. I can text you next time to give you a heads-up.”
“Sure,” I acquiesce. If I say anything else, I’ll come off as an even bigger asshole. “Listen, Kay will be up soon if you want to dry off and come to the main house for breakfast.”
She nods, but still looks at me like she’s not sure what to expect from me. Frustrated with myself, I spin around and head back toward the patio door. When I hear water sloshing, I glance behind me and watch her grip the edge of the pool and push herself up out of the water. She’s wearing a conservative black one-piece bathing suit, but it’s still the most naked I’ve seen a woman since my wife died. My gaze is glued to her lithe form as she stands on the edge and wrings water out of her dark hair before grabbing a white towel that she must’ve placed on the lounge chair before she started swimming.
I stand transfixed, frozen to the spot. And then before I even have a chance to remind her—before she even goes inside to get changed—she walks around the pool putting the safety net back in place. My chest feels tight, and before she can catch me watching her, I duck back inside and head straight for the stove to make breakfast.
I pull out a skillet, but I barely see it. All I can see is Meredith lifting herself out of my pool, the way the water ran down her skin, her toned arms gripping the edge of the pool, and then how she took the time to secure the net before worrying about herself.
I grip the edge of the counter and tuck my chin to my chest, trying to pull myself together. I owe her an apology for my behavior—a sincere one, not the gruff, half-assed one I gave her outside when I realized I was acting like a grumbly jerk. I’m not usually a giant asshole, but I keep scolding her like she’s done something wrong when she hasn’t.
So why does she bring out that side of me?
