Until You (The Redemption, #1)(11)



She stands there for a beat as the girls stare at her with puppy-dog eyes. Her smile is soft, reticent as if she’s uncertain she wants to be here. That makes two of us. “Yes. Sure. That would be lovely.”

“Girls? Can you help me in the kitchen, please?” I ask without waiting to see if they follow.

The minute we clear the doorway, I tug both of their arms so they’re forced into the small pantry space in the hopes that our location will prevent Tenny from hearing this conversation.

“Explain,” I demand.

“We found her cat,” Paige says.

“That’s not what I mean,” I say. “Since when is it okay to randomly go with strangers?”

“We’re eleven, Dad.”

“Exactly,” I whisper yell.

“Chill,” Addy chimes in, which only serves to irritate me more. “She didn’t offer us candy. She didn’t ask us to help her look for her lost cat. We’re the ones who found it. We’re the ones who returned him.”

“And you’re the ones who went into a stranger’s house without anyone knowing where you were.”

“And we’re perfectly fine.” Paige raises her eyebrows as if to ask what the problem is.

And there are a whole lot of problems, but ones to be discussed at another time when we don’t have a guest within hearing distance.

“We’ll discuss that later. But why did you lie and tell her I invited her over for dinner?”

Their devious grins have me groaning. “We thought you might need a friend, and she’s super pretty.”

“Why in the hell would you think that?” I ask, glancing out of the pantry to make sure we’re still alone.

“Language,” Addy says, which I answer with a glare.

“Because you have to be lonely with just us keeping you company,” Paige explains.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh as I read between their eleven-year-old lines, and then look back at them. “I can handle my own love life, girls.” Fucking hell. Seriously? I look so desperate that my own kids are trying to set me up?

“We know, but we thought maybe if you were happier . . . it would help with—everything,” Paige says softly as the knife twists in my heart.

I hang my head for a beat, the tightness in my chest returning. How dumb was I to think simply being here would be enough to make up for what they’ve gone through?

“Girls—”

“Besides, we’ll be dating boys soon,” Addy adds before I can apologize again for things I have no control over, “and the last thing we want is for you to be lonely when we’re out with our boyfriends.”

I choke over my laugh. “You do remember that you’re only eleven, right? There will be no dating while we’re here in Redemption Falls or ever.”

“Dad,” they say in unison.

“Or at least until you’re . . . thirty.”

My comment is met with groans punctuated by smiles. “And that’s why you need a girlfriend,” Paige says.

I can’t help but laugh, so appreciative for their levity, for them. They’ve gotten good at trying to make me laugh, at being the parent when they should never have had to.

Guilt is a bitch sometimes. Scratch that. All the time.

“So?” Addy says, nudging me with her elbow. “Go pour her some wine. Be a nice host.” She winks and owns every part of my heart. Oh, wait. They already do. “We’ll get the lasagna out of the oven and serve you guys.”

I eye her warily, not na?ve to their sudden capability. It’s amazing how they suddenly want to help when normally they’re nowhere to be found around meal prep time.

“Fine,” I say as all three of us step out of the pantry. I watch them move about the kitchen, knowing looks being shared between them as I uncork the wine. “Before I walk out there, can we agree that setting up Dad isn’t going to be your hobby while we’re here?”

They both snicker.

“Girls?” I repeat.

“If we had our ring light, we’d be busy filming videos instead of meddling in your—”

“Okay. Okay.” I chuckle as I pick up both wine glasses and hold them up as if in surrender. “You’re cute for blackmailers.”

“We know,” Addy says, a hand on her hip and a grin on her lips. “So?”

“We’ll talk later.” And before they can respond to my lack of commitment, I head into the family room.

Tenny is standing at the window looking out at the slowly darkening sky when I approach. She turns to face me. “I promise I didn’t know what they were up to,” she says.

“You heard?” I wince. Now I know who the girls get their lack of subtlety from. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant—”

“Don’t be.” She laughs and takes a sip of the wine I’ve handed her. “You can’t blame them for trying. Besides, that determination will serve them well someday.”

“One can hope.” I sigh, again, more embarrassed than I prefer to be when around a beautiful woman. It’s only fair that I give her an out. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, but don’t feel obligated to. Besides, I’ve never claimed to be a good cook, so be warned that frozen lasagna is the best I have to offer.”

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