Our Lost Song: A sweet single dad, rock star romance (For Love and Rock Book 3) by Emily Childs

Author:Emily Childs [Childs, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victorious
Published: 2022-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter sixteen

Jazzy

“We should make fairy crowns.” Micah takes a bite of her cinnamon roll, kicking her feet on the stool, a frosting smile on her face.

“I love that idea. I’ll make you one that is extra glittery if you want.”

“You’re so fun, Honey.”

My heart flutters. I give her a wink, and finish washing off the countertop, then flick some water from the faucet at her messy face. “You’re fun, too, Sunny.”

I find a little plastic bag to hold a stockpile of hair elastics. Call it an instinct, but as Micah tells me all the reasons princesses are tougher than people think, I go into autopilot and start gathering up the odds and ends.

Maybe Finn won’t appreciate my intrusion, but I’ve learned to trust my gut, and something is telling me the guy could use a break today. That, and when the rumor mill reached me that Finn Walker called in, I had a moment of daring, a need to be a knight in shining armor.

Ugh. I like him. Undeniably. Unavoidably.

I even checked with Steve about the rules on non-professional relationships between the crew and documentary subjects. He gave me a strange look, said it’s a bit of paperwork, but the crew is all about the natural course of life. If relationships build, they want them to build, and they want to catch it on film.

All those cautious steps I’ve tried to take are flying out the window, and I’m not sure if I’ll crash and burn, or begin something amazing.

I shoot a few of the elastics at Micah, then become every parent’s dream and teach her how to arrange them on her fingers to do the same, drawing out a belly laugh for the books.

“I must’ve missed a good joke.”

My body jolts into awareness. Finn steps into the kitchen, hair tousled and damp from a shower, bare feet, dark jeans, and a plain T-shirt that embraces those shoulders in ways that leave me weirdly jealous of an article of clothing.

He takes in the kitchen, a bit of red blooms over his face. “Jaz, tell me you aren’t cleaning my house.”

“I’m not cleaning your house.”

He scrubs his cheeks, groaning. Micah laughs at him.

Finn goes around the counter, tickles Micah’s neck, then digs into the box of honeybuns. “Might as well enjoy this since we’ll never see each other after today because I’m never showing my face at the studio again.”

He growls through a big bite, smiling when his kid snickers at him. He does very little to get this girl to smile, and it causes annoying, melty, gushy heat to spread . . . everywhere.

I click my tongue, and fold the washcloth over the faucet. “So dramatic. I thought we were friends Finnigan, and friends don’t let friends have morning meltdowns alone.”

“Fine. I’ll chill.” Finn shakes his head, exasperated. Or is he? There’s a whisper—a glimmer—of a smile on those lips and I want to explore this deeper.

I shouldn’t have come. Because a full smile might cause me to lose all

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