Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Why are you doing that?”
“It looks cuter that way.”
“They didn’t do that in the video.”
“Oh my gosh! So what?”
Burgess shut his mouth and reached for the rubber band, securing the uneven bottoms of the three sections, praying to the God of Single Dads that it was good enough. When he heard tears coming from the bathroom a minute later, he knew the braid hadn’t passed muster and he hung his head, massaging both eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“I’m not going to school.”
“You are going to school,” he said patiently. “I have a meeting with the Bearcats manager this morning and practice in the afternoon. I won’t be home to watch you today.”
“Can I go with you?”
The desperation in her voice raised his antennae. Was something going on at school with her classmates? Was her whiplash mood about more than a braid? And if so, was he even qualified to handle the problem? “Lissa—”
The apartment buzzer rang, cutting him off. Both of their gazes zipped to the door. It wasn’t unusual for Burgess to get deliveries. There was always stuff coming in. Equipment samples, shit he needed to autograph, game footage sent from the coaching staff. However, the doorman usually accepted the delivery for Burgess to collect later. No reason the buzzer should be going off.
“Hold on a second,” he said, crossing the floor of the living room to the electronic panel on the wall, tapping the button that would bring up the security feed from the lobby.
Tallulah stood there with her arms crossed.
Just like every other time he saw this particular woman, the muscles in his stomach flexed involuntarily, his pulse doing something ridiculous in his neck. He got sweaty without actually being sweaty, which made no sense. This morning’s reaction was no exception. Although this time, a touch of dread crept into the pleasure he got simply from looking at her.
Because that was one ticked-off lady.
His love life might be nonexistent now, but he’d gone through a divorce.
Therefore, he knew.
Although, she seemed sort of conflicted, too, and he had no experience with that combination. The doorman who stood behind Tallulah signaling him with a finger slashing across the throat must have been equally alarmed by a woman who looked unsure about how much anger she would be unleashing, as well. At least he wasn’t alone.
Still . . . “Shit.”
“Dad.”
“Sorry.”
“Who is it?”
“Tallulah.”
Lissa gasped. “Really? She’s here?” She was already clawing down his attempted hairstyle, his pitiful handiwork gone in seconds. “Do you think she can braid my hair?”
“Something tells me she isn’t in the mood.” With a long exhale, Burgess pressed the buzzer that allowed her into the lobby, not even remotely surprised that his pulse started to beat faster. Because pissed or not, he wanted to see her. Was looking forward to it, even. When she left yesterday, he wasn’t sure he’d have the privilege again.
Burgess leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, crossed his arms, and waited for the elevator doors to open. As soon as they did and he got eyes on Tallulah, his fucking heart started to hammer. Yeah, it had a lot to do with her tight jeans. But hell if the flush on her cheekbones, the delicate notch of her throat, even the purposeful way she swung her arms didn’t fascinate the shit out of him. Uncharted waters—that’s what this was. His ex-wife had never done this to him, even when they first started dating.
No one had.
Ever.
Roll your tongue back into your mouth before you humiliate yourself.
He was verging on retirement and this woman’s life was only beginning.
Burgess stood very still as Tallulah marched right up to him, indignation crackling in those gorgeous brown eyes. And oh yeah, she definitely knew what he’d done. Any second now, she was going to open her perfect mouth and tell him to go straight to hell. That she could take care of herself. That he’d had no right to interfere. She would be right, too.
“Tallulah?” called Lissa behind him. “Hey! Do you know how to French braid?”
Tallulah flicked a softening glance over his shoulder, then returned her attention to him. “We’ll talk about Chloe’s apartment later.”
“I believe you.”
She hummed in her throat. “Fishtail? Pigtail? Or regular, Lissa?”
A cry of relief came from the apartment.
Lissa pushed past him into the hallway and hesitated awkwardly in front of Tallulah. But when Tallulah opened her arms, his daughter walked right into them, resting her chin on Tallulah’s collarbone. Burgess spent the next few seconds pretending the sight didn’t affect him. It did, though. He hadn’t imagined the seemingly immediate bond between his daughter and Tallulah. And he was as envious of it as he was grateful.
“Hey, girl,” Tallulah said. “You still have those fire dance moves?”
Lissa giggled. “Maybe. I haven’t danced since the last time.”
“Not even in the shower?” exclaimed Tallulah.