Page 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN: SUNDAES

OWEN

“Owen! Can we get rainbow sprinkles?”

I grin at Millie, who’s holding up a shaker of the sprinkles and waving them above her head. We’re in the middle of the grocery store, collecting all the supplies we could possibly need for sundaes. Honestly, offering to take Millie so Stacey could drive her grandma home had been a bit of an impulsive thing. Part of it was just that I wanted to help Stacey out, but also, another part of it is that Millie’s pretty fun. Being in the grocery store is even more enjoyable than I anticipated. She’s hilarious and adorable, and so full of energy I can hardly keep up.

She hurries to me and drops the sprinkles into the cart I’m pushing, right next to her teddy bear, snuggled in the corner.

“Okay, do we have everything?” I ask, looking down at our haul.

“I dunno,” Millie shrugs, hoping on the back of the cart so she can look inside as well. “What all do we got?”

“Well, we’ve got vanilla ice cream and strawberry ice cream,” I say. “The most important thing. We’ve also got chocolate fudge sauce, cherries, whipped cream, marshmallow fluff, sprinkles, and waffle cone bowls. Anything else?”

She beams up at me and shakes her head. “Nope! We got it all!”

“Do you want peanuts?”

She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue in disgust. “Ew, I don’t like peanuts.”

“All right, no peanuts.” I arch a brow at her. “Do you like peanut butter?”

Nodding, she declares, “Yes! Especially with chocolate!”

“Agreed.” That’s funny… I don’t really like peanuts either. I’ve never been a fan of their texture, but I love creamy peanut butter. Weird coincidence. “All right. I think we’ve got everything we need then. Let’s pay and head to your house to get our sundae on, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Millie bounces on the cart and I push it to the front of the store.

As we approach the checkout, my phone starts to buzz in my pocket. I dig it out, half-expecting it to be Stacey checking on us, but I freeze when I see that it’s Gerald. I shake my head and shove my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the call. Whatever he has to say, it can wait. I’m giving Millie my attention right now and I don’t want him ruining my mood. The phone buzzes a few more times, but I let it ring until it finally stops.

We get through the checkout line and she continues to ride the front of the cart as we make our way to the parking lot. After reaching my car and loading our groceries in the trunk, I help her into her booster seat. A few minutes later, we’re on the road to her and Stacey’s house.

“So, Millie,” I say, glancing up at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “How’s school going?”

She shrugs. “School’s okay. My teacher is nice, and I like hanging out with my friends. Some of the kids are mean, though?”

“Oh?” I frown. “Are they mean to you?”

She shakes her head. “No, but they tease my friend Casey a lot because he has to wear these big glasses that make his eyes look kind of buggy, but it’s not his fault because he needs them to see. I tell them to knock it off, but then they tease me and say I’m his girlfriend, which I’m not. Casey and I are just friends, but I don’t want them to make fun of him. He’s really nice.”

Geez, isn’t she just in first grade? Why are they worrying about boyfriends and girlfriends already? “Have you told your teacher about the bullies?”

“Yeah, and she told them to stop.” Millie releases a dramatic sigh. “But they’re just sneakier about it now.”

I feel a strange surge of protectiveness for Millie and I don’t like to hear that she and her friend are getting picked on. However, I’m also crazy proud of her for standing up for this Casey kid.

“Well, the next time they pick on you or Casey, tell your teacher again,” I instruct. “But you kill them with kindness, okay?”

She frowns up at me, clearly confused. “What’s that mean?”

“It means that even if they’re mean to you, you don’t stoop to their level. They just want to upset you, so if you just keep being nice to them, they won’t want to pick on you because they aren’t getting the reaction they want.”

“Huh.” Millie appears thoughtful for a moment and then grins. “Okay! I’ll try that, Owen.”

“All right, and you let me know how it goes, okay?”

“Okay!”

Millie chats the rest of the drive about school and her friends, barely stopping to take a full breath. I don’t mind, though. I actually feel happy that she’s comfortable enough with me to be so talkative.

As soon as we step into the house, Millie kicks off her tiny sneakers by the door and races toward the kitchen. It’s a cozy space with dark wood cabinets, a laminate topped island, a ceramic farmhouse sink, and appliances that are a little dated. Everything is clean and organized, though, so nothing seems as old as it might look otherwise.

“Come on, Owen!” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going to make the best ice cream sundaes ever!”

I chuckle, hanging my jacket by the door and following her with our bag of groceries.

“You sound pretty confident,” I tease as I step into the kitchen. “Let’s see if you can actually back it up.”

Millie is already dragging a stool over to the counter. She climbs up and sets her teddy bear on the counter nearby.

“Oh, I know I can,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’ve been perfecting my sundae skills for years. ”

“Years, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Impressive for someone who’s… what? Six?”

“Six and three-quarters,” she corrects me with a serious look, and I can’t help but laugh.

As I unpack the grocery bag, I notice that she’s sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth as she watches me, her eyes bright with anticipation. This cracks me up. I do that exact gesture when I’m concentrating on something. Am I already rubbing off on her? How quickly do kids pick up on stuff like that? Weird.

“Okay, Owen,” she says, plunking down the jar of marshmallow fluff in front of me. “You’re on fluff duty.”

“Fluff duty?” I ask. “That sounds like serious business.”

“It is ,” she declares. “You can’t mess it up.”

“I’ll do my best, coach,” I say with a mock salute.

We get to work, and chaos ensues almost immediately. I get ice cream into the waffle cone bowls and hand over hers so she can put her own toppings on. That turns out to be a bit of a mistake. Millie tries to squeeze too much chocolate syrup into her bowl and it overflows, spilling onto the counter. I go to grab paper towels, but she beats me to it and ends up knocking over the jar of sprinkles in the process.

“Uh-oh,” she says, staring at the mess with wide eyes.

“Uh-oh is right,” I tease. “I specifically told your mom we wouldn’t get chocolate all over the kitchen, and you’ve managed to get chocolate and sprinkles everywhere!”

“It’s your fault,” she insists, pointing at me with a spoon. “Mommy won’t get mad at me!”

“My fault?” I laugh, holding my hands up in mock surrender. “You’re the one who tried to drown your sundae in syrup!”

She giggles and sticks her tongue out at me before grabbing a handful of sprinkles and tossing them at my shirt.

“There, now Mommy will know you made the mess! I won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh, it’s on,” I say, grabbing a dollop of whipped cream and smearing it on her nose. Her squeal of laughter fills the kitchen. Before our mini-food fight can get out of control, I call a timeout and grab paper towels from the top of the fridge to clean up our mess, handing some to Millie. As she wipes at the counter, she does that thing with her tongue again, and scrunches her nose up in concentration. Again, it reminds me of my own mannerisms.

She suddenly looks up at me.

“Do you know what?” she says thoughtfully. “Your eyes are kinda like mine…but mine are cooler.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, leaning against the counter. “What makes yours cooler?”

“They’re like... more sparkly,” she says, grinning. “Mommy says they’re special. Yours are still okay, though.”

I smile, but something tightens in my chest. I’ve always gotten compliments for my dark blue eyes. Now that she’s pointed it out, her eyes are really blue as well. Stacey’s are bright green. Millie has her wild red hair, but her eyes…

A crazy thought enters my mind.

Could Millie be… mine?

The possibility swirls through me for a moment and I feel like I’m spiraling in a twister of my own thoughts. I can only focus on that question: Could Millie be mine?

Have I been a father all this time and never knew it? The timing makes a certain amount of sense… or does it? I’d have to count those months.

The thought of potentially being Millie’s father isn’t what bothers me. I’ve already decided I want to be her dad, even if she isn’t biologically mine. I want Stacey and Millie both to be mine, and I haven’t cared one bit who her real absent father is. In fact, if Millie were actually mine, it would make things simpler— I wouldn’t have to worry about any legal barriers or need to go through the adoption process to have the law recognize her as my daughter.

No, the issue isn’t whether Millie is mine or not — the issue is that Stacey didn’t tell me. That bothers me.

If Millie were mine, Stacey would have told me. Right? I mean, the only person I’d ever imagined having a family with is Stacey. If she kept that from me…

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. Stacey told me she hooked up with someone not long after me. She wouldn’t lie about something so monumental… she wouldn’t intentionally hurt me by keeping my kid from me.

Would she?

Forcing my concentration back on Millie and our sundaes, I’m finishing putting my toppings on my ice cream when I hear the front door open. Millie glances up from her bowl, a huge grin lighting up her face smeared with whipped cream, chocolate, and marshmallow fluff.

“Mom’s home!”

Stacey walks into the kitchen and pauses in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Damn, every time I see her, she takes my breath away. Even when she’s wearing something as simple as her curve-hugging jeans and gray crewneck sweatshirt, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She looks weary, though… almost sad. I know she’s been working long hours and is probably exhausted. My cock still twitches at the sight of her ass in those jeans. Her tired eyes brighten when she takes in the scene — me standing at the counter, covered in a few stray sprinkles, and Millie, who looks like she’s been in an ice cream war, standing on her stool next to me.

“What on Earth is going on here?” she asks, her voice warm and teasing.

“Nothing!” Millie insists with a giggle.

“Nothing?” Stacey raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at me.

I shrug and grin. “We were just refining the art of sundae making. Turns out, we’re a pretty great team.”

Stacey laughs, shaking her head as she steps further into the room. “Well, if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a bowl myself.”

Millie hops down from her stool, immediately taking charge. “I’ll make it!”

I move to help, but Stacey waves me off.

“She’s got this,” she says, shooting me a wink.

Another chocolatey, marshmallowy mess later, we’ve all had our fill of sugar and it’s time to put Millie to bed.

“Come on, missy,” Stacey says, reaching for Millie’s hand. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

“I want Owen to tuck me in!”

I blink, taken aback by Millie’s insistence but Stacey nods and gives me a small smile.

“Come on,” she tells me. “You heard her.”

That’s all the encouragement I need. I follow the two up the stairs and wait in the hallway while Stacey gets Millie cleaned up and into her pajamas.

A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens again and Stacey pops her head out. “Come on in. She wants you to read her a story.”

I make my way inside and cross to Millie’s bed. She’s tucked under the covers with her new teddy bear next to her, and she’s holding a picture book of fairy tales.

“Owen! Will you read me Cinderella?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

Millie makes room for me and pats the spot next to her.. Sitting, she hands me the book and snuggles into my side. She’s so relaxed. So trusting.

I swallow down a sudden lump in my throat before I begin reading the story.

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land…”

Stacey watches us from where she’s leaning against the doorway. I can see that the sugar crash is starting to take hold as Millie’s eyelids droop and then shut fully. She’s fast asleep before the prince puts the glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot. Closing the book, I lean down and place a soft kiss on Millie’s head before carefully slipping out of the bed.

As we step out of Millie’s room and I pull the door shut behind us, Stacey turns to me, a look of determination in her eyes. I’m not really sure what to make of that… it’s a stark shift from the tender expression she’d had while I read Millie her story.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For everything tonight. Going to her performance and coming over for ice cream. She had so much fun.”

“She’s a great little kid,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me. “I had a blast hanging out with her.”

Lowering my head, I capture her lips in a long kiss. I’ve been wanting to kiss her since I saw her at the rink, but I knew better than to touch her in front of Millie. She responds, wrapping her arms around my neck and opening her mouth so I can deepen the contact.

I could get used to this. Spending the day having fun with Millie, like we’re a real family, and then spending my nights with Stacey wrapped in my arms. It’s the type of life I always imagined with her, and now it feels so natural to just step into it. To go all in with her and Millie.

To be a husband and a father. I only want it with these two.

When we break our kiss, Stacey gazes up at me for several long moments.

“Owen,” she murmurs. “There’s something I need…”

Before she can finish, her phone buzzes in her pocket. Releasing a frustrated sigh, she digs her phone out and furrows her brow when she sees who’s calling.

“Who is it?” I ask, curious.

“It’s the assisted living facility my Gram lives in,” she says. “Why would they be calling this late? Hold on a sec.” She steps out of my arms and answers the call. I watch her as she talks, but suddenly, face crumples and I tense, alarmed. “A heart attack?” she repeats, her voice breaking. “Is she…? Okay. Okay. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

She ends the call, clutching the phone against her chest as her breathing grows heavy.

“They think my Gram had a heart attack,” she whispers, her eyes wide with panic. “I need to go. I need to…” She trails off. She’s in no state to go anywhere on her own, and I’m overwhelmed with the need to help her. My heart hurts seeing her so upset.

“Stacey, breathe,” I say, stepping closer and placing my hands on her shoulders. “Call Grace or Skyler to come stay with Millie. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I interrupt firmly. “You’re in no state to drive right now. Grace or Skyler live close, right? They’ll be here in minutes. Let me help. It’s okay, you’re not alone. You have friends. You have me . You can lean on us for support, okay?”

Her hands tremble as she nods and fumbles with her phone. A few moments later, she’s spoken to Grace, who promises to be here within ten minutes.

True to her word, Grace arrives as promptly as ever. She gives Stacey a reassuring hug and promises to take good care of Millie. Once she’s settled, I guide Stacey out to my car.

As we set out for the hospital, her breathing is shaky and uneven.

“This is all my fault,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I kept her out too long. I shouldn’t have brought her to Millie’s show…it was too much.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, I reach over with the other and grab hers, giving it a squeeze.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” I try to assure her. “Sometimes, these things just happen, okay? You did not cause this.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she entwines her fingers with mine.

“If I lose her…”

“Don’t talk like that,” I say gently, quickly cutting her off. I can’t let her dwell on that possibility right now. She’ll completely fall apart.

“But…”

“She’s tough, right? She’ll pull through,” I say, praying to God I’m right.

Stacey nods, but her grip tightens around mine.

“I hope so,” she whispers.

I don’t let go of her hand the entire drive.