But this wasn’t a family. Callan watched her one time to do me a favor, and that was it.
Here I went looking too far into things again.
Maybe Penny was right to assume there was more going on.
After being alone for so long, I got used to not having someone to pass things off to, but my heart wanted this so bad that it was playing tricks on my brain. I had to approach this logically, not emotionally. Otherwise I’d get my heart broken and let Avery down.
Squeezing my eyes shut for a few seconds, I finally opened the driver's side door and got out. I beeped the locks on my car and headed for the house. The litter box and food brought a slight smile to my face. I just hoped it worked.
I tried the handle on the door, but it was locked.
Good.
Slipping the key into the knob, I unlocked it and stepped inside, relocking it behind me. Voices drifted down the hall, along with a giggle. I set my keys and wallet on the front entry table, then followed the sound to Avery’s room.
I peeked around the doorway to where they wouldn’t notice me watching with their backs to me as they sat on the ground next to each other. I raised up on my tiptoes to get a better view of what they were doing.
They were painting.
Callan, this big, teddy bear of a man, was on the floor with my daughter, painting.
And from the looks of it, he was painting a pink castle.
Avery moved to grab a different brush and must’ve seen me from the corner of her eye because her gaze shot to me, and I dropped from my toes. “Mama!” she shouted as she scurried to stand, racing my way.
“Hey, Aves. Did you have fun?” I asked her as she threw her arms around my waist.
Callan twisted where he sat, looking up at me.
“Thank you,” I mouthed, and he dipped his chin in response with a smile.
“We had so much fun. We made pink slime, and then Callan helped me with my handstand, and then we played with my ponies and he met every one of them, and now we’re painting. Do you want to see what I painted?” Avery’s words tripped over each other as she couldn’t speak fast enough to tell me all about their few hours together.
“Of course, I do,” I replied.
She released me, hurrying over to her painting to pick it up and bring it to me. “It’s not done yet, but Callan is helping me with the castle.”
I stared at the piece of paper, the paint still wet, and swallowed back the lump in my throat. She’d painted herself standing on the grass next to a horse, with Callan and his cowboy hat to the left of her. Next to them was a field of flowers, and a big castle that was half filled in with pink.
“That’s Boots,” she told me, pointing to the horse, “and that’s Callan and me.”
Callan stood up with the wet paint brushes in hand. “I’m going to go rinse these.”
I stepped to the side to allow him room to leave, his arm brushing against mine as he passed. His skin was so warm, like a walking heater, and I could imagine curling up next to him in the winter while snow fell outside, our Christmas tree twinkling in the living room as Pudding swatted at the ornaments.
I shook my head at myself. Stop fantasizing, Sage. It’s one time. This doesn’t mean anything.
“It’s beautiful,” I told Avery.
“He helped with a bunch of it, but the flowers are all mine.”
I set the paper on her dresser, then bent to press a kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t you clean up your paint while I make you some dinner?”
“Okay!” She bounced away, getting to work on tidying the paint supplies.
I headed out to the kitchen where Callan had his back to me at the sink as he ran the brushes under the faucet.
“I can clean those. You probably want to get going,” I said to him as I opened the fridge.
“I don’t mind. I had fun.”
Grabbing some chicken breasts out of the fridge, I set them on the island behind me and closed the door. “I really appreciate you watching her for a few hours, and all that you’re doing to get Pudding to come home.”
He turned off the water, setting the brushes on a paper towel to dry. He dried his hands on the rag hanging from the oven door. “Anytime. I’ll get out of your hair for dinner. I’ll still be seeing you two in a few days for her next lesson, right?”
Anytime? Did he mean that? Surely he was just being nice.
“Avery wouldn’t let me forget if I tried. We’ll be there.” I pulled a cutting board out of one of the cabinets, setting it on the counter. “And thank you for the texts. It helped ease my mind…a lot.”
His brow furrowed. “Of course. I figured if she was my kid, I’d want updates, too.”
God, why did we have to have that in common?
Shut up, Sage, every parent would.
“Is that why you don’t have a babysitter for her?” he asked.
I opened the package of chicken, placing them on the cutting board to slice. “That, and the fact that not many people are up for watching a five-year-old, especially with my constantly changing schedule if I have to stay overtime.”
