Page 31 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

Eight-thirty had come and gone by the time Christian pulled up next to Hallie’s sedan in the driveway. He leaned his head against the headrest for a minute to let his frustration ease before going inside.

The conference with the Lawson Group ran excruciatingly long.

It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes to realize that every point the representative addressed—in painfully monotonous tones—could have been outlined by email.

But pointless meetings were Jim’s bread and butter.

Why take care of things in writing when he could waste everyone’s time by hashing it out in person?

There were only two. And they waited for him inside the house.

The girls depended on his steady income, and he didn’t have the time or energy to go through the effort of finding another job.

Christian snatched his bag from the passenger seat before pushing the door open. He unfolded himself from the car and headed up the walk.

No one had thought to turn on the porch light. Using his phone’s flashlight, he punched the code into the keypad at the door. The lights on the thing had burned out last week, and he never remembered to switch the battery except for the times like now.

The faint aroma punctuating the air hit him first when he stepped inside. Like sugar and vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. Some of the weight of the day lifted from his shoulders with that comforting smell.

When was the last time his house smelled like cookies? Probably the time Dani spilled that liquid air freshener on the carpet in Penelope’s room. The whole upstairs reeked of vanilla for weeks.

He set his bag by the door, freezing when he flipped on the inside light. It’s so clean in here.

The living room hadn’t been a complete disaster when he’d left this morning, but he could’ve sworn there’d been a few toys lying around. As well as a pile of picture books on the coffee table.

They weren’t there now. Someone had arranged the throw pillows immaculately on both ends of the couch too. Was this really his house?

A giggle from upstairs captured his attention. Yep, definitely my house. He’d worry about the state of it later. Taking the stairs two at a time, he headed toward Isla’s room.

His gut clenched at what he found inside.

Hallie sat in between the girls on Isla’s bed, a picture book propped against her bent legs.

She had one arm around Penelope, who slouched against her side, completely passed-out.

Isla, though not quite touching, leaned toward her, fully invested in the story.

Pumpkin lay across the end of the bed, part of her head wedged between Hallie’s feet.

Christian’s heart thumped hard against his chest. The warm glow of Isla’s lamp bathed Hallie in a radiant light, somehow making her even lovelier than ever. Like the angel she was.

Before his marriage ended, he’d sometimes imagined coming home from work to exactly this: his wife reading a story to their children, making funny voices to match the characters.

“Ah ha!” Hallie read in a crackly witch voice, adding to the feeling of déjavu coming over Christian now. “There you are, my child. I’m ready for you.”

Isla giggled, and Hallie joined in for a second before continuing to read. Christian smiled too.

They were so engrossed in the story they hadn’t noticed him in the doorway. Leaning against the trim, he marveled at the way Hallie’s calm presence fit so well in the room. As if she belonged there.

The realization hit him hard, and he sucked in air just to keep breathing. An ache split through his chest, so deep he had to use the door frame to keep his balance. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on calming the jarring panic seizing his joints.

“You’re home.”

At Hallie’s voice, his eyes flew open.

Meeting his gaze, which was no doubt wild with panic, concern crossed her angelic face. “Is everything okay?”

Christian gave his head a little shake, pulling the safety blanket of his composure over himself once more. “Yeah, sorry. I was … thinking.” He stepped further into the room.

“Can we read another story?” Isla asked, drawing the woman’s attention away from him, allowing him to breathe again.

Hallie carefully reached over Penelope’s sleeping form to place the book on the nightstand. “It’s up to your dad.”

Isla turned her pleading brown eyes onto him. “Please, Daddy? Just one more?”

Approaching the bed, Christian gently lifted Penelope into his arms. “Sorry, kiddo. It’s already past your bedtime, and it’s a school night.”

Hallie’s face twisted into an apologetic frown. “I didn’t know what time you usually put them to bed.”

“It’s fine.” He shifted Penelope into one arm, using the other to squeeze Hallie’s shoulder. Bad idea. The touch only set off more panic racing through him.

Isla’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not even tired.”

“How about I come read you a story another time?” Hallie bumped her side.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Hallie patted her blanket-covered knee. “Goodnight, Isla.”

She shimmied off the bed, leaving space for Christian to take her spot. He adjusted the blankets over his oldest daughter. “I’m going to put Nellie to bed and then I’ll come back to tuck you in.”

“Okay, Daddy. ”

Hallie had already gone downstairs when Christian slipped from the room. Good. The distance would give him some time to regain control over his racing pulse.

Once in Penelope’s room, he lowered himself into the glider chair underneath the window. Rocking his precious daughter in his arms anchored him in the moment as his thoughts ran away from him.

He’d already told himself not to encourage whatever he felt for Hallie. He was no longer the na?ve sap who hung out with a woman a few times before recklessly taking a flying leap into romance.

Then why couldn’t he get past these overwhelming urges that made him want to pursue something with her, despite the impossibility of it?

And why did the image of his girls snuggled up to Hallie continue to dance across the backs of his closed eyelids? They were so comfortable with her, which made it hard to push away the spark of hope challenging everything he’d come to believe since Sabrina left.

Maybe there could be something there. Maybe someday in the future it wasn’t impossible to imagine someone becoming a more permanent fixture in their lives.

No, not just someone.

Her.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, pal, he reminded the hopeless romantic that fought to reemerge from his younger self.

He couldn’t risk letting that guy resurface.

No matter how much his heart wanted him to.