“But—”
He stopped. “Do you trust me with Mouse?”
There was no hesitation. I had seen the way he acted with her on Saturday. I knew his responsible nature from the length of time I had worked with him. I trusted him completely.
“Yes.”
“Then let me do this. You can give me all the instructions on the way. If you need references, you can call my buddy AJ, and he’ll tell you how often I take his son, Jesse, for the night. I’m good with kids, Liv. Sammy will be fine, and you can take care of whatever you need to.”
Shocked at his plan, I let him guide me to the truck. He opened the door, and before I could move, lifted me into the cab again, and handed me the seat belt.
“I was going to give you my truck, but given your, ah, height restriction, I decided this was the best option.”
Without thinking, I cupped his cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiled, warmth and kindness spilling from his eyes. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to my palm.
“Sure, Liv. Anytime.”
I watched him hurry to the driver’s side.
Somehow, I knew he meant those words.
* * *
“That puts us three days behind schedule.”
I looked at Ben Campbell, trying to be patient. “I realize. There isn’t anything else I can do. These cupboards are the wrong style and color. They screwed up the order and are express shipping the correct one.” I dug deep, trying to find my patience. “Surely, we can work on something else and come back to the cupboards in three days?”
He grunted, flipping through his file. “The tiles arrived for the master bath. I guess I can switch around some guys to work there and start the framing for the laundry room downstairs. But I need those cabinets ASAP.”
“They assured me they would be on the truck and here by ten a.m.”
“And the fixtures?”
“Will arrive tomorrow.”
He huffed a sigh. “Fine.” He snapped the file closed. “I guess it’s all we can do.” He crossed his arms. “You can talk to Mrs. Miller. I’ve dealt with her enough today.”
This was a rare job for us. Usually, BAM bought a place, Van and his crew did the demo and rebuild, I decorated it, and it was sold. This time, a client was involved in the flip and had her own ideas of what she wanted. It was proving to be difficult on many levels. She was demanding and exact. Bentley had assured me he would never allow this to happen again, but in the meantime, we had to finish the project.
“I’ll call her right away.”
His tense expression loosened. “Sorry, Liv. I was out of line earlier. She was here when the cupboards and fixtures showed up and went off on us big-time. She ranted for a good fifteen minutes. Nothing I said worked, and I lost my cool.”
“I know,” I soothed. “She is very difficult at times. I’ll talk to her, and we’ll get back on track.”
He huffed a sigh. “Okay. I’ll go and rearrange the guys.”
He left and I pulled out my phone, dialing Mrs. Miller. Once I spoke with her, I could go home and relieve Van of his babysitting duties.
I was shocked by his offer—not only that he made it, but the fact that he seemed excited at the thought of spending some time with Sammy. I had tried dating a few times since she was born but found, to my disappointment, the men I went out with either stopped calling once they knew I had a child or were content to say hi then whisk me away, not at all interested in Sammy. After one particularly disastrous experience, I decided that part of my life was over until Sammy had grown. She was my priority.
Van was different. That much was obvious, yet I was still nervous about what could happen between us. If anything.
After a conversation of soothing and promising, I requested an Uber. Mrs. Miller had been surprisingly understanding, assuring me she knew how hard we were working and “glitches happen.”
“I’m so glad I have you and Mr. Campbell to deal with the details,” she gushed. “You’re both so amazing!”
I had pulled my phone away from my ear, convinced I was being punked. Her next words made the picture a little clearer.
“Your boss, Mr. Morrison, also called. He told me of the lengths you are going to in order to make sure I got exactly what I wanted. He told me you and Campbell are his best and I was in great hands. He even gave me his number in case I needed it in an emergency. I love the personal attention.”
I was going to have to speak to Van. Although I appreciated his kind words, he didn’t have to smooth over angry clients for me. That was my job, not his, even if this was an odd situation for us to deal with.
I dealt with some emails and messages on the car ride home. When I arrived, I hurried up the stairs, knowing I had to get dinner for Sammy, follow up with the cabinet people, and finish the design I had been working on. I also wanted to go over and check on my mom, to make sure she was all right. I sighed, already weary. It was going to be a long night.
I opened the apartment door, two things hitting me. Something smelled wonderful, making my stomach growl. The second was the sound of laughter coming from the back of the apartment where Sammy’s room was located.
I set down my bag and wandered down the hall, pausing in the doorway. I had figured Van would bring Sammy home, give her some cheese and crackers, and let her play. Maybe put in a movie. I had told him where everything was located.
I didn’t expect this.
They were sitting in her room, her in a small chair, holding up her teapot, asking if Van wanted more tea. Between them, her tea set was arranged on the table, many of her stuffed animals gathered around it. As usual, she was dressed up while having a tea party. A hat, gloves, and one of her princess dresses.
Van sat on the floor, his legs crossed, a few animals on his lap. A blue boa was draped around his neck, and a tiara sat askew on his head, the plastic gems glittering in the light. He held out his cup, his pinkie extended, no doubt having been schooled in proper tea party etiquette by Sammy, murmuring his thanks for more “tea.”
Sammy filled his cup with water and held out the plate of Oreos. I frowned. I never bought Oreos.
“More cookies, Prince Van? I made them myself.”
Prince Van?
He lifted his chin royally and accepted a cookie. “They are delicious. You must give me the recipe. I’ll have my cook at the castle make them.”
Never had I wished for a camera more than I did at that moment. Unable to contain myself, I giggled. They both turned to the door, excited to see me home. Sammy clapped her hands, demanding I join them.
I expected embarrassment from Van, but he simply tossed his boa around his neck and indicated the floor beside him with a wide grin.
“Liv, you’re home. Join us for tea? Sammy has made the most divine cookies.”
How could I resist?
* * *
Van
Liv had a lot of responsibilities, and as I was discovering, she carried a huge load on her shoulders all of the time. She was always friendly and polite, but her real smiles were rare. The ones which lit up her eyes and curled her lips into a perfect bow. I had determined on Saturday I loved Liv’s real smile. I especially loved being the one to make her smile.
Seeing her reaction to the accessories Sammy insisted I had to wear made it all worthwhile. Liv’s golden eyes were lit with amusement, her expression filled with levity. The giggles that escaped her mouth were endearing. She glowed.
She was so beautiful.
“I like the tiara,” she deadpanned. “And the boa suits you.”
“It’s blue because he’s a boy, Mommy. Van said he couldn’t wear a fancy hat because he isn’t a girl, so I let him borrow my tiara and he says that made him a prince.”
“I see.” Liv cut her gaze in my direction. “Funny, I don’t remember having Oreos in the cupboard.”
I grinned unabashedly. “You didn’t. We got them at the store.”
“We made supper, Mommy!”
Liv looke
d surprised. “You did?”
“Mr. Van and me made it together! It’s his special thing!”
Liv looked confused. “Special thing?”
I chuckled. “My specialty. A little mouse told me your favorite comfort food was mac and cheese. It happens to be one of my signature casseroles.”
Liv’s eyes grew wide. “You-you didn’t have to do that,” she sputtered. “You’ve done so much—”
I cut off her protests with a wave of my hand. “Nonsense. I was hungry and so was Mouse, so we made dinner. We ate and I have yours ready to heat up.”
Her expression morphed into something soft. Grateful. Sweet. Her eyes shimmered like liquid gold, and she blinked, dropping her gaze.
Was she crying over macaroni?
She laid her hand on my arm, her voice quiet. “Thank you, Van. Having dinner, my favorite dinner, made for me is a treat. What you did for me today—I can’t even begin to say thank you.”
I looked at her hand resting against my bicep. Small and delicate, her fingers clutched at the material of my shirt as if she needed something to hold on to. I had to refrain from telling her she could hold on to me anytime she wanted. Instead, I covered her hand with mine and squeezed her fingers.
“Anytime, Liv. Mouse and I had a great time together.” I winked at her. “And I was good. I made her eat dinner, including carrot sticks, before we had tea and cookies.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well then, you did well. She never eats carrot sticks for me.”
“Mr. Van’s taste better, Mom.”
“Oh?”
“I think it’s the ranch dressing we dipped them in,” I confessed. I unfurled my legs and stood, holding out my hand in invitation. “Why don’t you come, eat your dinner, and tell us about what happened. Mouse has lots to tell you about her day.”
She accepted my hand, letting me help her up from the floor. “I want to check in on my mom.”
“Oh, ah, well, she called about twenty minutes ago. Mouse spoke to her, then I did. Her head was feeling a little better, but she was going to bed. I gave her the name of the pain clinic I go to. There’s a guy there who does wonders with migraines. I told her she should go see him.”
“She’s been trying to get into one, but so many aren’t accepting patients.”
“I know. I know Phil really well, and I sent him a text telling him to expect her call. He promised to see her as a personal favor.”
Liv stared up at me, silent.
“Was that okay?”
Her voice was thick when she spoke. “More than okay.”
“So how about dinner?”
Mouse jumped up. “I’ll go push the button on the microwave!”
I looked at Liv. “Coming?”
She launched herself at me, catching me by surprise. Her hug was hard, her arms tight around my neck. I embraced her, holding her snug, enjoying having her close.
“Thank you,” she breathed out. Her lips pressed on my cheek, once, twice. “Thank you.”
She hurried away, rushing down the hall. I could hear the emotion in her voice, and I knew she was crying. I wanted to go after her and hold her some more, but I knew I needed to take things slow. Instead, I headed to the kitchen to help Mouse heat up Liv’s dinner.
* * *
“This is delicious,” Liv mumbled around a mouthful. “I can’t believe you cook. Is there anything you can’t do?”
I chuckled while trying not to stare. When Liv had reappeared, her hair was loose and hung down her back in a long, silken wave. It was gorgeous and I wanted to touch it. I had to stop myself from doing so by staying busy and getting her a drink. “I cook simple. My mom taught me casseroles, and I do a mean barbeque. I can’t create meals the way she does.”
Liv kept eating, obviously hungry. I had put extra effort into dinner since I knew she liked Sammy to eat healthy. I added carrot and celery sticks, sliced cucumber, and red pepper pieces to the plate. Sammy had gobbled them up, especially after I told her she only got Oreos if she ate everything, vegetables included, on her plate. Liv laughed when I told her the same thing.
But they both polished off their dinner.
It felt good knowing I had helped Liv. The look of exhaustion and panic on her face when she bumped into me in the hall made the need to do something, anything, for her, paramount. Her hesitancy had been easy to override, and I knew she was at her limit today. Mouse had been thrilled to find out we were spending some time together. Shopping with her was fun, although I quickly realized she played the cute factor often. I only allowed her to add two items to the cart.
Oreos for the tea party she was desperately wanting, and a KitKat bar we shared in the truck.
Once she was strapped in, I broke off a wafer and handed it to her. “You were very good in the store, Mouse. But this treat is just between us, okay? Don’t tell Mommy. I’m not sure she’d approve of cookies and a chocolate bar.”
She giggled. “Okay. But you get some too, Mr. Van!”
I broke off another wafer and bit into it. I ruffled her hair, the golden strands wild and soft. “You’re a good kid, Mouse. You share well.”
“Mommy says you should always share and be nice.”
“Mommy is right.”
She grinned at me, looking so much like Liv, it made me smile.
“Okay, let’s go home and make supper.”
She bobbed her head. “I can help!”
I ruffled her hair again and gave her another wafer. “I’m counting on it, Mouse.”
Liv set down her fork. “Thank you, Van. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed dinner so much.”
I frowned. “Then you need some serious spoiling, Liv.”
She smiled, looking down at her plate, running her finger around the rim.
“You do that a lot,” I observed.
She glanced up, confused. “Do what?”
“You look down when you smile.” Without thinking, I laid my hand on top of hers. “You have such a beautiful smile. You need to let people see it.”
“Oh,” she breathed out.
Sammy giggled, looking up from the picture she was coloring. “Grammie says my smile is just like Mommy’s. Does that mean it’s beautiful too?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “It is.”
“I like your smile,” Sammy stated. “It’s nice. And your eyes get all wrinkly. I like that.”
Liv looked horrified, but I was amused by her honesty. “That’s what happens when you get old, Sammy. You get wrinkly.”
“You’re not old,” Liv objected. “I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m seven years older than you.”
She shrugged. “It’s a number.”
Her easy acceptance somehow made me feel better. It also made me feel as if perhaps she wasn’t as set against the possibility of a date as I feared. Or a relationship.
Both of which, I realized, I wanted with her.
* * *
“She’s out like a light,” Liv murmured, stroking Sammy’s hair. She peeked up at me with a grin. “I would have thought with all the sugar you fed her, she’d be wired.”
“A couple of cookies isn’t bad,” I scoffed.
“Add in a chocolate bar, and it’s a lot.”
I grimaced. Obviously, I was busted. “She told you?”
Liv smiled. It was gentle and soft, filled with love as she looked down at Sammy. “She saved me part of one wafer. She didn’t want me to miss out on the treat.”
Aw, hell.
If I wasn’t already fond of the kid, that did it for me.
“It was melted and stuck to the inside of her knapsack pouch, but I ate it,” Liv said. “She was so proud of herself for sharing.”
My voice sounded oddly thick when I spoke. “She’s an awesome kid, Liv.”
“Thanks. I think so.”
With a final stroke to Sammy’s head, she bent low and kissed her brow. Watching the two of them together did something to my chest. The love Liv had for Sammy, and the way
Sammy adored her mother, hanging on her every word, saving a piece of chocolate for her. They were an amazing little family.
I followed Liv from the room, resisting the urge to kiss Sammy’s head myself. I had already been given hugs and “smooches.” And she demanded I come listen to Liv read to her. As I had discovered, when Sammy asked me to do something, I was powerless to resist, so I had sat on the floor listening to Liv’s quiet voice as she read to her daughter. A yearning I had kept under wraps for years stirred as I watched them. The need to protect them. The desire to have them in my life. The longing to be part of their world.
It brought me up short, and my footsteps faltered behind Liv.
She turned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
In her living room, I hesitated. “I should go. You must be tired.”
She sat down, curling her legs underneath her. “Not as tired as I would have been without your help.” She indicated the chair beside her. “I would like to talk to you, though.”
I sank into the chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Except, you didn’t have to call Mrs. Miller. Or Ben,” she scolded gently. “I don’t expect you to fight my battles for me, Van. You can’t do that.”
“I didn’t. Ben is a great foreman, but he goes off the rails at times with his demands. He doesn’t deal well, and I stepped in to tell him to back off. I would have, regardless of the person he was dealing with,” I assured her. “And Mrs. Miller is a handful. Bentley promised me this is the only time he will ever take on a project like this. I only smoothed her ruffled feathers. Again, nothing I wouldn’t have done for any of the staff.”
She gave me a challenging look but let it pass. “I still don’t know why he took it on. We don’t usually do builds for people. We buy, flip, and sell.”
“She wanted this house, but Bentley outbid her. She told him the house used to be her grandparents’ and she wanted it for sentimental reasons. She asked him to let her be the one who purchased it when it was complete and to be involved in the renos. She even offered him more than he felt it would be worth when it was done.” I chuckled dryly. “He had no idea what he was getting us into. Last week, he offered to sell it to her for what he paid plus expenses, walk away, and allow her to finish, but she was adamant she loved our work and she didn’t want that to happen.”
Vested Interest Box Set Books 4-7 Page 29
