Page 135 of Stolen Kiss

Emilia

I droveup to Jensen’s house on Sunday evening.

I was no longer using Warren to drive me around.

Before, it was okay as Jensen’s girlfriend, but now…

I wasn’t sure what Jensen was to me, but I knew I didn’t want to get to know Elodie as Jensen’s girlfriend.

I told him that before he left my studio two nights ago, and admittedly, seeing the disappointed look on his face had soothed something in me.

Like he had done so many weeks before, Jensen opened his front door not long after I pulled up. He looked at me, only this time I had no idea what he was thinking or how he was feeling.

I felt awkward and unsure.

I felt nervous.

It wasn’t my first time seeing Elodie, but this would be the first time I saw her after I learned the truth, and something about that made this time feel momentous.

I walked up his driveway and to his front door.

“Hey,” I said, offering a shy smile.

He didn’t smile back, though his eyes did soften a bit. “Hey. Come in. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Thank you.”

He stepped back only a half a foot and left the tiniest space for me to squeeze through.

My hand brushed up against his hard stomach, and my hip touched his side. I sucked in a sharp breath as if the touch burned me, and quickly moved inside, ignoring the look he shot my way.

He’d done that on purpose; I was sure of it.

I walked into the kitchen and found Elodie sitting in her high chair, a coloring book in front of her with some crayons. She looked up when she heard me, smiling widely. “Millie! You’re here!”

My breath caught.

Fuck. How had I not noticed it before?

She did have my smile. The same smile I shared with my sister.

I let out a gasp before quickly covering my mouth with my hand. Jensen walked up behind me.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” His voice caressed my skin, and speechless, I could only nod.

Yeah. She was beautiful.

Jensen clapped his hands, startling me. Both Elodie and I turned to him. He grinned. “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tonight. How does that sound?”

“Yay, Daddy! Lodie love spaghetti!” Elodie exclaimed, only she didn’t pronounce correctly, and she missed the ‘s’ in front, making it sound like pah-get-tee.

Jensen and I shared a smile, the kind of smile only proud parents share over their own kid.

The dinner went better than I had expected, and I had expected awkwardness, at least on my part. But Jensen filled in the conversation pretty well, and he was good at making sure I didn’t feel left out.

And we had Elodie’s endless chatter to keep us entertained.

By the time she was done with dinner, there was more tomato sauce on her face than there was on her empty plate. I let out a small laugh when I got a good look at her.

---