A Secret for a Secret Page 31

“They’re in school until four, and then Robbie has his Botany Club and Maverick has hockey practice, so we’re all set there.” She guides poor River out of the office, murmuring reassurances.

I turn to Lavender, whose attention is focused on the empty doorway. Her hands are in her lap, and she’s wringing them nervously. “We should probably wash our hands, shouldn’t we?”

She drags her gaze away from the doorway and nods once. After slipping off the chair, she follows me to the bathroom. She’s too small to reach the sink, so with her permission I lift her up onto the vanity and turn on the taps. She runs her hands under the water, and I pump soap into them. “We’ll wash them really well so you don’t get what River has, okay?”

She nods again and rubs her hands together, and I start singing “Happy Birthday.”

She tips her head, and a slight smile curves one corner of her mouth.

I pause to tell her, “My dad always sang ‘Happy Birthday’ twice when we washed our hands; then we’d know all the germs were gone. Do your parents do that?”

She shakes her head.

“Want me to keep singing?”

At her nod, I start over, thinking it doesn’t hurt for us to wash our hands longer, considering how ill her poor brother seems to be. Once we’re all done, we dry our hands with paper towels. Back in my office, I clear a spot on my desk for her and grab some paper from the printer while Lavender unpacks her knapsack.

I pull up a chair beside mine, and Lavender sits on her knees, shimmying forward until she can reach the desk and her crayons. She picks up a piece of blank paper and very carefully lines up the corners, her tongue poking out as she tries to get one side to line up and then the other. But her little hands make it impossible.

“Do you want to make a card for your brother?”

She nods.

“Can I show you a trick?”

Another nod.

“You hold the corners for me, okay?” I wait until her little fingers are pressed on each corner; then I pinch the center on both ends, helping her flatten it out. For the next half hour we sit side by side, quietly coloring. Every once in a while Lavender peeks over at my paper to see what I’m drawing.

Crayons aren’t the best medium for fine art, but I follow the contours of her face, sketching lines with a pencil first before I start filling them in with color. When Lavender is done with the card for her brother—she spells River without any vowels, although she’s barely four—she starts another picture while I continue working on mine.

Lavender tugs on my sleeve to get my attention.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

She points to the two crayons I’ve been using to shade in the area around the nose and then the picture itself. “How do that?”

She’s pretty shy around people she doesn’t know, but maybe since we’ve met a bunch of times, she’s getting more comfortable around me. “You mean the shading?”

“Yes. The sading.” She points at her own picture. This one has a big sun in the sky. “I want here.”

“Want me to show you how?”

We bend over her picture together, and I lightly run the yellow crayon around the edge of the sun, filling in the middle. Lavender hands me the orange crayon when I set down the yellow one and slips it back in the package.

She doesn’t have the manual dexterity yet to be able to manage it, but I can already see her eye for color in the way she sets up her pictures.

“Do you ever use paint instead of crayons?”

Her lips pucker and her fingers flex, lids fluttering rapidly. She exhales a loud breath and says softly, “At home. It’s too messy for here.”

“Mmm. Good point. But maybe we can find a time to paint together, when it’s okay to be messy. Would you like that?”

A huge smile breaks across her face, and she claps her hands. “Oh, yes!”

“I’d like that too.”

We go back to working on her drawing, heads bent together over her paper while we shade in her sun, then give it a silly face.

And that’s exactly how King finds us when he stops by, likely wanting to discuss our dinner plans for tonight. His eyes flare with surprise, and a wide grin makes his gorgeous face even more stunning. “Miss Lavender, what a wonderful surprise.”

She ducks her head and gives him a shy smile, peeking up at him from under her lashes as she waves.

“What are you two up to?” He tucks his thumbs into the pockets of his khakis and rocks back on his heels.

“Creating masterpieces, of course.” I hold up the card she made for her brother, where Lavender re-created a version of a puking emoji sitting in a sunny field, but instead of throw up, it’s a rainbow coming out of his mouth.

“That is definitely a masterpiece. We should call the Louvre and tell them we have the next Picasso on our hands.”

“I totally agree.”

Lavender blushes some more and snuggles into my arm.

The door to my dad’s office opens, and a man I’ve seen once before, when Corey was first brought to the team, steps out. I have to assume he’s Corey’s agent. I seriously hope he gets a decent cut of his salary for dealing with so much bullshit. Alex and my dad follow behind him. They all look a little worse for wear, and agitated. The men shake hands, and Corey’s agent nods at us, then rushes out like his ass is on fire.

Alex runs a hand down his face and sighs. “Well, that’s three fuc—” He stops just before he completes the curse, his gaze landing on his daughter, whose eyes are as wide as saucers, and a hint of a naughty smile flirts at the corners of her mouth. I’m sure she’s heard bad words before, since Violet often forgets to censor herself.

“Lavender? Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t realize you were here.” Alex gives me a look that’s halfway between questioning and apologetic.

Lavender hops off her chair and rushes over to her dad. He scoops her up and plants loud kisses all over her face. She giggles and then snuggles right into his neck.

I bet every pair of underwear I own that Kingston would be exactly the same kind of dad. And that thought makes my lady parts excited. Which is crazy, because I’m only twenty-four and I’m in no way ready for kids. We haven’t even dropped the L bomb on each other.

“Is everything okay? Where’s Vi?”

I stop staring at Kingston and address Alex. “River isn’t feeling well, so Violet took him to the doctor. She was hoping she could leave Lavender with you, but since you were in a meeting, I volunteered to hang out with my favorite budding artist.”

“Is River okay?”

“Violet thinks he might have the flu.” I look at my phone to check how long she’s been gone. “I have messages from her. Hold on.” I pull them up and scan them quickly. “Yup, it’s the flu. She’s going to take him home and get the nanny to come over to watch him so she can come back and get Lavender.”

“When did Violet drop her off?” He adjusts his hold on Lavender so she can effectively wrap her arms around his neck without choking him.

“Maybe a little more than an hour ago.”

He rubs the space between his eyes and then kisses his little girl’s cheek. “Jake, I might need to run Lavender home. I don’t want Vi to have to leave River with the nanny if he’s sick.”

“Or we could take her,” Kingston offers. “Queenie and I, I mean. I don’t need to be on the ice for a couple of hours.”

Alex looks conflicted. “Lavender, would it be okay with you if Queenie and Kingston took you home?”

She rubs the space between her dad’s eyes and then leans in, whispering something in his ear.

“I’m okay, honey. It’s just work stuff and nothing you need to worry about.”

She places her hand on his cheek and says quietly, but audibly, “Okay. I go with Keenie and King.”

He blinks a bunch of times, clearly taken aback that she’s answered without whispering in his ear, which is pretty typical, from what I’ve witnessed. “Okay. That’s great.” He kisses her on the cheek and sets her down.

Together she and I put away all her art supplies. It takes far less time with me helping than it does when it’s her brother.

“Oh, this is for you. Do you want to put it in your sketch pad?” I pass her the crayon portrait.

Alex leans in so he can have a look. “You drew this? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

I wave off the comment. “It’s just a crayon doodle.”

“That makes it even more amazing. You know, if you get tired of working for this guy, you can teach Lavender art classes.” He thumbs over his shoulder at my dad.

I laugh at that. “I’m not sure that’s a great way to earn a living, but I’m always happy to spend time with Lavender.”

Once she’s all packed up, we head out to the parking lot, and Alex hands over his car keys, which is easier than moving the car seat into Kingston’s SUV.

“You want me to drive your car?” Kingston stares at the keys like they’re acid-soaked zombie piranhas.

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