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“Help your mama with what?”

“Her says she has nothing to wear, but Miss Jenny, her has lots of clothes. Not as much as me, but lots!”

Jenny laughs. “I’ll get her sorted. Maybe you can think about what’cha want to eat?”

“You can cook?”

“Lord no, but I can order takeout like a boss.”

“Uh. Okay.”

Jenny laughs again as she makes her way down the hall to my room. At the sight of damn near every stitch of clothing I own strewn across the room, she doesn’t even blink. Nope. She just sets to work organizing it and creating outfit choices out of items I would have never ever thought of pairing together.

I watch in awed silence as she works until she has three outfits laid out on the bed for me. The first one being a flouncy, burgundy-colored chiffon skirt with a black button-down blouse. The second is a little slip dress I forgot I even owned. It’s a silky emerald green and shorter than sin. The third is by far the most out of my comfort zone, which is saying a lot seeing as number two looks like sexy pajamas. Somehow Jenny managed to find an old crop top of mine that I only wear when I’m cleaning, and has paired it with a pair of pale pink, high-waisted linen shorts.

“The first is really cute,” I murmur, my eyes straying back to option number three.

“It is,” she agrees. “But let’s start with this little number.” She grabs the shorts and crop top, and shoves them into my arms, and then me into the bathroom. “Get changed, babe. Now.”

I do as she says because, at this point, someone else calling the shots is a weight off my chest. I’m already clad in sexy undies—not that he’ll be seeing them, but a girl can hope. I slide my legs into the shorts and pull them up, instantly appreciating how the rise accentuates my waistline.

It’s the crop top that has me out of sorts. It’s almost cut like an elongated sports bra, stopping at the bottom of my rib cage. Due to the cut, an actual bra is out of the question.Hope he doesn’t take me anywhere chilly.

All in all, the outfit is good. It doesn’t show nearly as much skin as I was imagining—just a sliver of my abdomen. Feeling inspired, I quickly turn on my curling iron, tease my crown, toss my hair into a low pony and curl the ends. After that, I dust on some bronzer, apply a hint of eyeliner, coat my lashes in mascara and gloss my lips.Hell yeah. I’d do me.

I step out, and Jenny appraises me like I’m a piece of art and she’s a critic. I’m worried she hates it, but said worry dissolves when a brilliant grin splits her cheeks. “Yesss! Bow to your queen!”

I give her a little bow and we both giggle.

“Now you need to accessorize.” A statement necklace and a few bangles later, I’m just about ready. I cross the room to my closet in search of the perfect shoes, settling on a pair of nude-colored wedges.

“Are you meeting him or is he picking you up?” Jenny asks, as Tatum barrels into the room.

“Mama! You look so pretty. But why your tummy showing?”

Her question catches me totally off guard. Luckily, Jenny answers for me. “Because she’s a grownup and wants it to.”

“Can I show off my tummy when I grow’d up?”

“As long as you’re over eighteen, go for it, kid.”

“Yay!” Just as quickly as she entered, Tatum exits the room in a tornado of excitement.

We both laugh and then I say, “And to answer your question, he wanted to pick me up, but I figured it would be confusing for Tatum if I went somewhere with her daddy and left her behind…”

“Ah. Smart, Mama.” She ushers me toward the door. “Have fun. We’ll call if we need you.”

On the way out the door, I stop and pepper my girl with kisses, hugging her tight. “I love you, Tater Tot. Be good for Miss Jenny?”

“I always good Mama.”

I smile and give her one last kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And with that, I’m out the door and on my way to my first real date with the father of my child.

CHAPTER 36