Loving Hard by Lisa B. Kamps

Author:Lisa B. Kamps [Kamps, Lisa B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BimHaven Press
Published: 2018-01-16T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

"Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself when you fell?"

"Positive." Nothing but her pride, not that she would admit that out loud.

Sammie placed the cups—two hot chocolates and a small plastic cup of ice—on the table then slid onto the bench, moving over to make room for Clare. But her daughter clung to Jon instead, her head resting on his shoulder. He didn't even hesitate, just slid into the booth across from her and readjusted Clare on his lap.

Sammie frowned, tried to ignore the flash of hurt that pierced her. It was a good thing that Clare had bonded so quickly with her father. Right? Yes, of course it was.

Sammie slid back out then leaned over, her hands reaching for Clare's jacket. "Her coat needs to come off, so she doesn't get overheated."

"I've got it." Jon flashed her a smile then unzipped Clare's jacket, easily sliding the sleeves from her arms. Sammie stood there, feeling like a sudden outcast, as he tossed the jacket beside him and readjusted Clare on his lap. Not that he needed to do anything, because Clare willingly settled against him, like she was staking her claim on him and nothing would get in her way.

Sammie frowned again then sat back down, telling herself it meant nothing.

Maybe, if she said it enough times, she'd actually believe it.

She reached for Clare's cup and eased the lid off, blowing on the surface of creamy hot chocolate before taking a small sip. It was still too hot, even though she asked for it to be served warm. She grabbed a few ice cubes and dumped them in, stirring them until they melted, then replaced the lid.

"Ready for your hot chocolate, Boo?"

Clare nodded and reached across the table, her hands outstretched as Sammie handed her the cup. Jon frowned, his hand coming up to hold the bottom of the cup as Clare took it.

"Are you sure it's okay for her to drink? It's not too hot or anything, right? She's not going to burn herself?"

It should have been cute, even adorable, the way Jon sat there, hesitation and concern creasing his face. A doted father, putting his daughter's safety first.

It should have been—but it wasn't. It annoyed her instead, like he was questioning every little thing she did, questioning her ability as a mother. It was that irrational annoyance that made her words come out sharper than she intended.

"I'm positive, Jon. I'm her mother. I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing."

Jon sat back, his face going carefully blank. He watched her with those dark, intense eyes, completely void of any emotion. Then he blinked, and the vacant mask was gone, replaced by a flash of regret.

"I'm sorry. This is all new. I didn't mean to question you."

Sammie sighed, the irritation leaving her. She ran a hand through her hair then dropped it to her lap, the fingers curling against her palm. "I know. I didn't mean—I'm sorry."

She looked away, unable to meet Jon's gaze, and busied herself by glancing around.

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