Page 16 of Manny's Surprise Baby

I doubted it, but I dreaded seeing her sad little expression again, so I said, “You never know what can happen in a week.”

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It was nine at night by the time Seth came home. He looked beat, with lines under his eyes and a tense set to his jaw. When he peeled off his suit jacket, I found it hard not to scan his muscular body. He was a good-looking man, and whether I liked alphas or not, he was sexy as hell.

He smiled tentatively at Emily, but she stayed sitting next to me on the couch, making no attempt to hug him. I couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not.

“How was your day?” His tone was pleasant, and his gaze fixed on Emily.

She looked to me for whatever reason, as if she was a mute. I elbowed her gently. “You can talk. Tell you dad how your day was.”

Grimacing, she said, “Fine.”

“Don’t overload me with info.” He smiled, but there was tension around his eyes. “Did you buy some nice things?”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

He shifted uneasily. “Would you show me?”

She swallowed loudly. “Okay.” She stood and walked past him with her head down.

Seth glanced at me, and his disappointment was clear. “Maybe you should come too. She seems to hate me,” he whispered.

“She doesn’t hate you.” I stood and walked after her, annoyingly aware of his cologne and masculine energy close behind me.

When we reached her room, she stood in the center with her arms crossed. “See.”

He took in the plaid comforter and the matching curtains. “Wow, it looks better in here already.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was hushed. “Can we… can we still paint?”

He frowned. “Of course. Did you get the paint color you wanted while you were out today?”

“We did. But I wanted to make sure it was still okay.”

“I want you to paint the room,” he said firmly.

She gave him a shy smile. “Yay.”

Just that one little word and smile seemed to make his day. He glanced toward me with a relieved look, and his eyes seemed less tired. He raked a hand through his hair, looking around the room. His eyes fell onto the photo on her dresser of her and her mom. He walked slowly toward it, leaning in to study the picture.

“Do you remember her?” Emily asked quietly.

He nodded. “I do.” He started to pick up the photo, but he stopped. “May I have a closer look?”

She nodded.

He picked up the frame and cocked his head. “Her hair was blonde when I met her.”

“Really?” Emily perked up, moving toward him. “Mommy had blonde hair?” Her voice went up an octave.

He grinned. “Yep. She was reallysexy—I mean, beautiful.” His face flushed as he met my amused gaze.

“Yeah, take it down a notch, Casanova.” I smirked.

“It’s weird to think you knew Mommy before I did.” Emily grimaced.

“But you knew her better.” He set the photo down. “And she loved you. She only liked me.”