Page 12 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

From the floor in Isla’s room, Christian stared at the computer screen.

The website updates he’d been working on for the last hour blurred in front of him.

Giving in to a yawn, he rubbed his palms against his eyelids and closed his laptop.

The soft glow of Isla’s nightlight—a quirky, non-scary replica of a haunted house to go along with the Halloween princess vibe—replaced the harsh blue light of the screen.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he listened for any sounds indicating his daughter had fallen asleep. Quiet snores coming from Pumpkin lying on the shag carpet next to him reached his ears instead, so he leaned his head against the wall for a minute to rest.

Was he enabling Isla’s sleep troubles by hanging out in her room until she fell asleep every night? Mom seemed to think so. But she’d never experienced raising a child with challenges as severe as Isla’s. Bedtime was far less painful if he didn’t have to redo the routine a dozen times.

After several minutes of silence coming from Isla’s bed, he slid his laptop off his legs and pushed himself from the floor. He arched his back, and a satisfying pop eased the crick that had settled in his spine from sitting for so long.

Approaching his daughter’s bed, he watched her for a moment, willing the frustrations of the day to melt away.

Too many times, his anger toward Sabrina had made him wish he’d done things differently in his life.

Like not eloping, for one thing. If they’d continued to date instead of rushing into an impulsive marriage, her red flags would have surely come out before it was too late.

He could’ve spared himself the agony their divorce had created.

And his children could’ve come under happier circumstances too .

But that was the catch, wasn’t it? Without Sabrina, he wouldn’t have the girls. And he couldn’t imagine his life without them.

With a weary sigh, Christian turned from the bed, nudging Pumpkin with his foot on his way to the door. The dog lifted her head long enough to huff out an annoyed grunt.

“Come on,” he muttered, digging his toes deeper into her side.

Pumpkin let out a low whine and Christian froze, darting a glance in Isla’s direction.

If she wasn’t deeply under, he’d be back on the floor to start the process all over again.

Her breath stuttered, but she only rolled over and settled deeper into her pillow with a sigh.

Pumpkin reluctantly stood and followed him into the hall.

Tucking his laptop under his arm, he closed Isla’s door partway, then poked his head into Penelope’s room.

The child slept soundly, her legs tucked underneath her belly, and her arm hooked around her favorite blanket.

Thank goodness he had one champion sleeper.

It never took more than a story and a few minutes of snuggling in the glider chair to get her down.

With both girls finally asleep, the weight he carried around every day lifted somewhat.

Rolling his shoulders, he headed downstairs, not bothering to turn the lights on in the living room.

The one from the upstairs hallway provided enough of a glow for him to see.

He lowered himself onto the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table, crossing his bare feet at the ankles.

Hoping to get in a few hours of work before crashing himself, he opened his laptop.

Princess Pumpkin jumped up beside him, turning in a circle before lowering herself onto the couch cushion and resting her head on top of Christian’s computer keys.

“Needy mutt,” he cooed, scratching the retriever behind the ears before nudging her head off his lap so he could work.

Pumpkin curled her face into her chest next to him, and they settled into their typical evening ritual of him catching up on work while she dozed.

He’d always pictured spending these kid-free hours cuddling with Sabrina—not the dog—and reconnecting after work.

Or slow dancing in the kitchen while doing the dishes.

Even talking while folding laundry had once seemed like the perfect way to end a day.

But now he knew what marriage really involved. Those desires were only for the na?ve saps who hadn’t yet fallen from the clouds.

“It could be worse, right?” he muttered to himself. At least he wasn’t shackled to that misery any longer.

Princess Pumpkin snored in her sleep, and Christian’s eyes flicked to her. Silly mutt. She didn’t seem to mind his shortcomings. And she wasn’t trying to find new reasons to blame him for their circumstances. It only took a full food dish, lots of walks, and a little affection to keep her happy.

As he turned away from the dog, he noticed the box Hallie had delivered earlier, illuminated by the upstairs hall light.

He’d forgotten all about tossing it onto the coffee table after coming inside.

Even more surprising was that neither of the girls had spotted it either.

They were like bloodhounds when it came to sweets.

A nighttime snack sounded kind of nice right now. He moved his laptop to the couch cushion on his other side so it wouldn’t slide off his lap as he reached for the box. Pumpkin startled awake, snorting as she jumped off the couch and padded into the kitchen.

Christian stared at the box, his mind drifting back to this afternoon when Hallie had appeared in his driveway.

The shock of seeing her had wiped clean the rational side of his brain, rendering him incapable of having a normal conversation.

He couldn’t recall what he’d said to her, or anything else about the interaction, for that matter.

Except the part where Isla had physically assaulted her, of course. Who could forget that?

A wave of guilt turned his stomach. Should he reach out to her to make sure she really was okay?

He thought he’d muttered an apology in the moment, but again, in his mentally blacked-out state, he could’ve asked her what she liked for breakfast for all he knew.

It was safe to say he wouldn’t be seeing her again.

Ignoring the surprising disappointment that realization caused, he flipped open the box and pulled out a cookie—chocolate chip, on closer inspection. He returned his attention to the website on his computer screen. As he toggled to the page’s html code, he absentmindedly took a bite, and…

Whoa.

He stopped typing, glancing at the cookie with wide eyes.

He’d eaten a lot of chocolate chip cookies in his twenty-seven years of life, but apparently, not all were created equal.

And this was a little slice of heaven. Crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a little kick of spice to make it unforgettable.

Was everything Hallie made this fantastic?

He finished off the cookie, immediately reaching for another. If more people knew of her talent, she’d have enough clients to keep her bakery running for years. Yet she’d admitted that her business was struggling. Impossible. The people of Buena Hills didn’t know what they were missing.

Popping the last of the second cookie into his mouth, he slid his laptop back onto his thighs.

He clicked out of the legal website he’d been working on—with its straight lines and boring colors—and logged into the dashboard for Hallie’s Cakes.

Although she hadn’t sent him a full list of products she wanted displayed on the menu page, he at least had enough information and photos from what was already there to get started.

His eyes burned with fatigue. Tomorrow would be rough if he didn’t get to sleep soon, but he needed to follow this motivation train while it accelerated down the track. Staying up a few minutes longer wouldn’t make much difference in his ability to function tomorrow.

Just a few minutes of work and then he’d go to bed.

“Daddy?”

The little voice, followed by someone jabbing at Christian’s cheek, jolted him from slumber. He grunted, turning his face to the side to evade the poking .

“Daddy?” A second voice, then the fingers found his cheek again. “Daddy!”

His eyes flew open, and he glanced around the room. What am I doing on the couch? And sitting up, no less?

Sunlight shone through the small windows above the front door, bathing the living room in a morning glow.

Raising his head from where it had been resting against the back of the couch, he spotted his open laptop laying haphazardly on the cushion next to him, the screen dark.

He must’ve fallen asleep before making it upstairs to bed.

More fingers poked his cheek, and Christian finally registered his daughters standing in front of him.

“Hi, Daddy.” Penelope smiled at him as she climbed onto his lap, all cozy in her white fleece footie pajamas. Her mousy brown hair stuck out in all angles. The child always woke with the best bedhead. “I hungwy.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his three-day-old stubble scratching his palm. “Morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled. “How’d you get out of your crib?”

“I climb out.” Her words were perky like she’d been up for a while.

Wait, she climbed out? “I guess it’s time to turn your crib into a real bed. Why are you awake so early?”

Isla sat down on his other side, pulling on the hem of her nightgown so it covered her legs. “My clock turned green. That means it’s time to get up.” She shoved the clock from her nightstand in his face.

You choose now to follow that rule? Christian blinked at the green light surrounding the device before taking it from her, half glancing at the digital numbers.

What he saw on the screen sent a jolt of panic zipping down his spine. “Oh—” He swallowed the curse that almost burst from his mouth, barely managing to secure Penelope in his arms before flying from the couch. “We have to go. Now.”

They should’ve been out the door fifteen minutes ago. At this rate, no miracle could get both girls to school before the tardy bell .

Isla scrambled up the stairs behind him. “What about breakfast?”

“We’ll take something in the car,” he said, rushing into Penelope’s room. “Get dressed.”

They were ready in record time but still didn’t make it to Isla’s school before the car line attendants had gone inside. Once he’d signed her in at the office, then dropped Penelope off at preschool, it was already ten minutes to nine. There was no way he’d make it to the office downtown on time.

Jim will have my head for this. What number infraction was this? He couldn’t begin to guess. How many more would the man put up with before he used it as an excuse to fire him?

Christian should’ve known it wasn’t a good idea to help Hallie. Bad things happened when he didn’t stick to the exact plan.

He sure hoped his decision wouldn’t cost him his job.