Page 22 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

Not that I had any intention of starting something romantic with Logan again. But for Charlie’s sake, he’d be easier to accept in jeans. I doubted she’d ever seen a man in a suit who wasn’t on television.

Logan cleared his throat before his next question. Did he think it was as hot in here as I did? “My grandmother would cringe that I’m asking, but how old are you?”

“Thirty-one. You?”

“Thirty-three. And when is her birthday?”

“August fifth.” I smiled. “She was ten days late in the heat of summer. I’d never been so miserable in my entire life. Hazel, Charlie’s Gran, rented me a room at the motel because I wouldn’t stop snapping at her to get air conditioning.”

He smiled back. “Charlie. That’s a unique name for a girl.”

“It’s Charlotte. Charlotte Faye Landry. But she hates to be called Charlotte. At four, she declared she was Charlie and that’s all she goes by now. I’m sure you could tell, but she’s a bit of a tomboy. She loves nothing more than to play in the trees or around the lake. She’s always building forts in the woods and finding animals to bring home.”

“Hmm.” His eyebrows furrowed and his gaze drifted to the floor.

I waited for another question but it never came. Instead, a heavy silence settled in the workshop, chasing away the heat. My arms broke out in goose bumps as he stared at his shoes.

What was he thinking? Did he not like hearing about her? Charlie was my pride and joy, so I talked about her constantly. Had I said something to spook him? Maybe I’d misread his questions for interest in our daughter. Maybe he was here tonight to say he didn’t want to be a part of her life. That he had no interest in being a dad.

How would I ever explain that to her?

Please, Logan. Just give her a chance.

He finally looked up and whispered, “Do you think she’ll like me?”

The air whooshed out of my lungs and I wanted to cry again. He wanted to know her. Logan wanted Charlie. “She’ll love you.”

It would take some time. Charlie wasn’t outgoing like most of her friends and she was shy when it came to strangers. She’d put Logan under a microscope, making him prove he was genuine. But once she got past the initial hesitation, she’d love him completely.

It would just take a little time.

“Can I meet her?”

I nodded. “Of course. How about tomorrow night? You can come for dinner. That will give me a chance to tell her about you first. She doesn’t do great with surprises.” That was an understatement, but I didn’t want to scare him away.

“Tomorrow.” His face lit up, filling my heart with hope. “I’ll be here.”

I had no idea what to do with myself. Since leaving Thea’s art studio last night, I’d been a nervous wreck. Sleep had come late and short. I’d finally gotten tired of staring at the ceiling so I’d gotten up to shower.

My face was shaved, my hair combed. I was dressed and ready for the day, but I had no idea where to go next. Now, instead of the ceiling, I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, unable to look away.

She’s going to think I’m uptight.

Maybe I should just wear a T-shirt.

Would that make me look more like a fun dad?

I should have asked Thea more questions. I didn’t feel prepared at all to meet Charlie.

Last night, Thea had calmed a lot of my nerves. Whether she knew it or not, the little things she’d told me about Charlie had put me at ease. There was no mistaking how much she adored our daughter. The glint in her eyes had made me excited about meeting Charlie.

But the moment I’d left that garden shed, without Thea to reassure me, self-doubt had crept back in. What if Charlie and I had nothing in common? What if she didn’t like me? What if I was a bad father?

By the time I’d walked the five blocks from Thea’s house to the motel, I’d all but convinced myself that Charlie was going to hate me.

In the last decade—hell, two—I couldn’t remember being this nervous. Not about starting college. Not about taking the bar exam. Not about a date.

I was terrified of meeting my five-year-old.