Always With You - Part Two(5)
After about ten minutes, she pushes her legs out behind her and stretches out on her stomach, resting her chin on her folded hands. I turn my head just enough to watch her without being detected. I take in her long, long eyelashes, her button nose, her softly rounded chin. She's a beautiful little girl. Could I have had a part in making her? Or does she belong to someone else?
I watch the lashes blink slower and slower, her eyes get heavier and heavier until her head lists to one side and settles along her forearm. She looks like an angel, her cupid's bow lips parted just enough to puff warm air at me.
I want to take her in my arms and hold her for a few minutes, to watch her sleep and feel the weight of her against my chest. But I don't. It's not time for that yet. Instead, I move silently to my feet and pull the end of the comforter up to cover her with, leaving her undisturbed as I exit the room to stand quietly, thoughtfully in the office outside.
CHAPTER THREE
Olivia
I didn't know days could speed by so quickly. Or that a man could heal so quickly from having his chest cut open and his heart tinkered with. And yet here I am, watching my dad putter around in my kitchen a mere eight days after surgery. He insisted on making dinner and then he's pushing me out the door to catch up on the end-of-month accounting at Dual. I've practically taken over the books there. I just fill in shifts behind the bar to help out or just be near Cash when he's doing his thing there.
"I told you I can do that tomorrow, Dad," I'd said.
He'd adamantly refused. "Nope. Tonight. End of story."
I think he'd overheard Cash tell me that he missed having me around the club at night. Since we got married, we've been together most of the time. I've seen him less over the last few days than I have in months. Neither of us likes it, but I only have one father, and this is not forever.
Once the dinner dishes are cleaned up, which I insisted upon doing, and Dad is situated in front of the television with the remote, snacks and the phone nearby, I leave for Dual. I have to admit that it feels good to be doing something as ordinary as heading to the club to work. It seems nothing is normal these days. Every routine is altered, every plan subject to change. From the time I get up to the time I go to bed, nothing is the same. I see Cash for a few minutes here and there, in the mornings and late at night when he comes in, but we are never really alone. Since Dad is staying with us until he recuperates, we don't really have any privacy. And we can't go to the club apartment either because Sophie and Isabella are there. It makes me miss him, even though he hasn't gone anywhere. Maybe that's why I'm looking forward to this one tiny bit of normal, to going to the club, working in the office while Cash keeps an eye on things in Gavin's absence.
There's a big crowd when I pull up out front. There's no point in using the garage since I can't really use the apartment entrance. If I remember correctly, Sophie is off tonight, so she and Isabella will probably be back there. I definitely don't want to intrude on that. I don't want to see or be around Sophie one bit more than I absolutely have to.
Pour Some Sugar On Me is pumping through the speakers when I push through the door. A body shot must be going on. I glance over at the bar to see a girl spread out on the bar and a male patron sucking what is most likely tequila from her navel. I smile at the sizzling memory of my first body shot. It was on that very bar with Cash doing the licking. It's why I can never listen to this song without feeling warm and achy.
I'm filled with the pleasant glow of those thoughts as I make my way through the crush of bodies to the door at the back corner of the club. It's pulled closed, telling me this is where I'll find my husband, why I didn't see his face among those cheering the body shot.
I swing the door open and step quickly inside to pull it shut behind me, not wanting the noise to disturb him. Only Cash isn't in the office. I hear his voice, though. It's coming from the next room. From the apartment. The door is partially ajar and the lights are on.
I listen as I walk forward. Cash's low rumble can be heard beneath the giggle of a little girl. It stops me in my tracks and steals my breath for a few seconds. It's both heartwarming and heartwrenching. I gulp, noting that my throat is dry as parchment, and I creep to the crack and peek inside. Cash is sitting in the floor playing some sort of card game with Isabella. He throws down cards as quickly as he can, chanting something each time he does. Isabella watches intently, waiting for a certain card I assume. When she sees it, she slaps her hand down on it and holds it up, squealing in victory. She bounces where she sits, clapping her hands excitedly. And then, from outside my vision where the door obscures the rest of the room, Sophie leans forward to hug her. The perfect picture of a mother and father enjoying a night of fun with their daughter.