Page 36 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

“Yeah.” She nodded, stacking her bubbles in the corner.

“Was there anything else you didn’t like about him?”

She stacked two more handfuls of bubbles before she finally whispered, “No.”

My back sank further into the wall. If it was just the move, I could work with that. “Honey, I think you might have hurt his feelings tonight. When you didn’t want to talk to him at dinner. And when you said you didn’t want a dad.”

Charlie looked up from her bubbles, her eyes full of worry. “I did?”

She was so thoughtful and loving. I was exploiting those emotions tonight in hopes that they would lead to a better tomorrow. “Yeah. We’d probably better try to fix it, huh? Maybe we could try again with Logan. Would it be okay if I invited Logan to your soccer game tomorrow?”

Even though another dinner would give them more time to talk, I couldn’t endure a repeat of tonight. And maybe on neutral ground, the pair would find something to connect over.

“Okay.” Charlie nodded, going back to her bubbles. “He can come.”

“Good.” I relaxed. “Will you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Try to be extra, extra nice to Logan.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

I smiled and leaned forward, skimming some bubbles into my palm. Then I carefully arranged them as a crown on her head. “That’s my girl.”

She giggled, filling our bathroom with her musical laugh and banishing away some of my worries. Then we spent the rest of the evening in her room, reading books, coloring orange dinosaurs and singing bedtime songs.

After an hour, she was tucked into bed and I was walking down the stairs just as the back door opened. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, Hazel dropped her purse on the counter. “How’d it go?”

“It went.”

I crossed the cream linoleum floor, heading directly for the freezer. I yanked open the door, rifled through the frozen vegetables and ice-cube trays and moved things around until I found my coveted huckleberry vodka. With it in hand, I closed the door and sagged against the fridge.

“That bad?” she asked.

I nodded. “He suggested we move to New York.”

“Oh, no,” she muttered, taking a seat at the table. “I bet that didn’t go over well.”

“No.” I scoffed. “Charlie’s exact words were ‘I don’t want a dad anymore.’ ”

“Oh, my Charlie.” Hazel shook her head. “I knew I should have given Logan some pointers.”

“What?” My back straightened. I couldn’t keep up with her these days. “You met Logan?”

“He came into the bar this afternoon when I was there visiting Jackson. I chatted with him a bit. Told him about my research with Willa. Then he left to come over here.”

“Ah, I see.”

At least I didn’t have to explain Hazel’s stalking to Logan now. We had enough on our list of discussion topics as it was.

A throb was building behind my eyes, probably caused by the stress of the last day. With my free hand, I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the pain away. Had it really only been a day since Logan had come to Lark Cove? It felt like so much longer. I hadn’t had this much happen in the course of twenty-eight hours . . . ever.

If there was a night for my special vodka, this was the one.

I opened the bottle and took a shot, wincing as it burned my throat. When the warmth reached my stomach, I tipped the bottle back and did it again.

“I think I’m going to head to my workshop for a few hours. Is that okay with you?”