Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1) - Page 12

Her shoulders went to her ears, her voice quieting. “Is you mad?”

Hugging her close, I pecked a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Of course, I’m not mad. We’re just gonna have to get you to the gym with me so we can start building up these muscles.” I lightly squeezed her tiny bicep. “How’s that sound? You ready to start pumping some iron? Before you know it, you’ll be as strong as The Hulk.”

She giggled like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “The Incwedible Hulk? You’re crazy, Daddy. I’m gonna be Wonder Woman. Don’t you know I’m a girl?”

She threw both her arms in the air before she started shimmying down my body, getting free of my hold, and heading straight for the drawer where we kept the dishtowels. She climbed up the step stool so she could reach it, that smile lighting up the whole room when she looked over at me. “Right, Daddy? Can I be the best dancer in the whole world and Wonder Woman?”

I crossed the kitchen to help her clean up the mess. “Yeah, Tiny Dancer, you can be whatever you want to be.”

I’d make sure of it.

Because she was the single wonder of my life.

I’d do whatever it took to keep her that way.

5

Rynna

Sunlight poured in through the long row of dark tinted windows that overlooked the bustling street. It struck the murky space like a blazing orb of fire against the quiet darkness that held fast to the silenced space, the light still muted in the far reaches of the restaurant.

It left the space filled with a dim hue of warmth, the atmosphere an intricate dance of peace and regret and the remnants of my lingering fear.

Lovingly, I dragged my fingertips through the layer of dust that had gathered on the bar, exposing the shiny white counter hiding underneath.

Buried, but not forgotten.

Yearning pulsed through my being, my spirit full and my heart heavy, that lump at the base of my throat prominent as I slowly wandered through the old diner-style restaurant that for so long had been the center of my life.

How many days had I spent at this counter? A little girl coloring and painting who turned into a teenager studying for the SAT?

How many mornings had I been there before dawn, standing on the step stool so I could see over the counter back in the kitchen? I’d watch in awe as my grandmother would mix the ingredients, helping her pour them into the bowl, my arm straining as I’d followed her instructions and pressed the dough into pie crusts. The whole time I would quietly listen to her chatting about life, the woman so easily relating everything to the pies she made.

How much life had buzzed in the bustling diner, the families that had gathered in the booths and the old men who’d sat at the bar with their tall tales to tell?

That life had been silenced, but it wasn’t gone. I could feel it. Bated, but simmering. Trembling all around where it was restrained, pressing and vying to be freed.

Waiting for someone to believe in it again.

For someone to breathe that life back into its walls.

And Gramma had somehow put her faith in me that I would be the one to do it.

Even after I’d run like a coward.

I just prayed I could live up to her belief.

I jumped when the old bell jingled above the door and someone called, “Knock, knock.”

Heart leaping to my throat, I spun around. I did my best to beat down the jolt of fear that had taken hold. My eyes narrowed as I tried to make out the two figures in the doorway.

They stepped forward, coming into view in the dimmed light of the diner.

Two women.

Their faces unfamiliar, but both had to be around my age, maybe twenty-eight or thirty. One was dressed in something like I would have worn to the office back in San Francisco. A perfectly fitted pencil skirt, blouse, and heels, her black hair done up in an intricate twist. The other was more casually dressed in trendy jeans and a flowy tee, her hair cropped and messy.

Dusting off my hands on my jeans, I walked their direction. “Can I help you?”

“You must be Corrine Dayne’s granddaughter.”

I gave a slight nod.

“We heard you were coming into town,” she said. “I hope we’re not intruding, but we wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Lillith Redd.” The woman in heels stepped forward with a welcoming smile and pushed her hand out in front of her.

I rounded the corner and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lillith. I’m Rynna.”

The other woman laughed. “Ah, forget that ‘Lillith’ nonsense.” She hooked her thumb in her friend’s direction. “This one right here goes by Lily Pad. Don’t fall for that suit-wearing, straightlaced attorney vibe she’s rockin’. She’s actually kind of a wild child when you get to know her. And we finally get to meet the Rynna Dayne, not to be confused with Grandma Corinne. I pretty much feel like we’re already best friends since your grandma never stopped talking about you. I’m Nikki Walters.”

Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance
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