Page 39 of Learn Your Lesson

“I’ll explain upstairs. Go ahead. Leave this all on your bed and I’ll take care of it before I come in.”

“Okay!”

Ava ran up the stairs as best she could in her padding, and Chloe stood, smiling at her the entire way before she slowly turned to face me.

“You made that?” I asked, and damn if that knot wasn’t still tight in my throat.

Chloe shrugged, folding her arms over her middle. She was dressed in an oversized knit sweater that hung off one shoulder, her leggings covered in cat hair.

And yet, I’d never wanted to strip a woman bare so badly in mylife.

“I needed a project,” she said, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if she hadn’t just made my daughter’s entire life with that fucking outfit.

“She was smiling.”

That made a grin bloom on Chloe’s lips, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. “Shewas, wasn’t she?” Then, she threw her fist into the air and jerked it back down by her side, shimmying her hips in her own little celly dance. “Mission one accomplished.”

“Mission one?”

“Well, mission two is to makeyousmile,” she said, poking her finger into my chest.

I had to fight against the urge to capture her hand in mine and pull her into me, to feel that soft body of hers pressed against me, to slide my hands into her hair and show her how much what she’d done meant to me.

“And then mission three is to make both of you laugh.”

“I smile,” I said defensively.

Chloe flattened her lips, crossing her arms again. “That little centimeter curve of the right side of your mouth doesn’t count.”

I scowled. “Who made you the smile police?”

Before she could answer, Ava was calling for her from upstairs, and I could hear the bathwater running.

Chloe shook her head at me on a grin, pointing at the kitchen. “Not sure if you already ate, but there’s leftover chicken zoodle stir fry in the fridge.”

“Zoodle?”

“You know, like noodles but made with zucchini.”

My eyebrows inched into my hairline. “You got my daughter to eatzucchini?”

Chloe grinned, satisfied with herself as she shimmied up to me. “Every bite.”

It was a miracle, and I knew my face said as much.

“You didn’t need to cook,” I said. “When Chef Patel takes off, we usually just order in.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making a well-balanced meal, Mr. Perry.”

“I wasn’t doubting you.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She gave me a sassy look over her shoulder before walking up the stairs. She was halfway up when I called out, “Thank you.”

“Ah, so hedoesstill have manners.”

She winked at me, and then disappeared up the banister.