“You know it.” She dips down and pops a kiss on his cheek, then scurries toward the dining room.
“Did you two have a good talk?” I ask without looking away from Grace.
“Not about what we should have.” He gently runs his hand over Grace’s curls. “I wanted to but with Blake still not here, it seemed like the wrong time.”
“I don’t know that there will ever be a perfect time for that talk.”
“Probably not.”
The front door opens and closes. “I’m so glad you’re here, Charlotte. I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately,” Hope says. “Thanks for watching her, Teller.”
“No problem,” Marcel says.
Rock follows her inside but his gaze slips from his son to his daughter. “How’d she behave for you, knucklehead?”
“She was perfect.”
As if Grace senses her parents have returned, she scrunches up her little face and wails.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whisper.
“Aw, I’ll take her, Charlotte,” Hope says.
I’m not ready to relinquish Grace yet, but I can’t exactly keep Hope’s baby hostage, either.
Rock’s glued to Hope’s side as she takes Grace to the couch opposite us. He’s the kind of attentive father I know Marcel will be…eventually.
Hopefully.
One day.
Panic increases my heart rate. Sweat pops across my forehead.
I have to get out of here.
I glance at Marcel. Please, let’s go.
He nods.
“We’re heading home.” Marcel stands and takes my hand, pulling me off of the couch. “Unless you guys need anything?”
“Nah, we’re good.” Rock touches Hope’s shoulder, then approaches us. “Thanks for staying with her.”
“No problem.” Marcel curls his hand around mine, the warmth easing my tension. “You need anything, call me.”
“Thank you, Teller,” Hope calls.
“You got it.”
“Good to see you, Charlotte,” Rock says. “Work keeping you busy?”
Heat floods my cheeks and I can’t meet his intense eyes. “Almost more than I can handle,” I answer. The excuse seems weak.
“That’s good, though, right?” His eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Sometimes.”
Once we’re finally outside, Marcel pulls me closer. “You all right?”