Page 56 of Yours To Hold
“I don’t know.” Willow screws up her face in concentration.
“I don’t want to interrupt anymore. I just stopped in when I saw you in here on my way to grab a coffee.”
Willow’s bright eyes turn to me. “Can we get coffee after this?”
“You don’t need coffee, Pipsqueak.”
“Can I try it?”
I shake my head. “No. Maybe a hot chocolate.”
“Yes!”
Ivy’s smile is wide as she takes in our exchange. She looks nothing less than spectacular. In a simple tee and jeans, she couldn’t look more beautiful if she tried.
It’s one of the things I like most about her. She isn’t fussy. She puts up with my ever-changing schedule and crazy daughter without batting an eye.
Ivy bops her on the tip of her nose. “Have fun on the rest of your special day, Willow.”
“Bye, Ivy!”
“Bye, Willow.” She turns to face me. “Mason.”
“Ivy.” I dip my head in her direction.
What I wouldn’t give right now to be able to pull her in my arms and kiss her. She sends a wink in my direction as she leaves the shop.
I watch as the man dips the brush in the thick green polish and paints it over my now smooth nails. I’ve never thought about doing this—even though Willow comes back with painted nails from her aunts all the time—but I can see myself doing this with her again.
It’s relaxing. While I wouldn’t get this kind of color every time, it’s nice.
“All done.” The woman caps the bottle and Willow pulls back her hands to stare in admiration.
“How do mine look?” Willow holds up her hands. Flowers dot every finger on top of the bright pink.
“Beautiful. How about mine?” I hold them up for her to see.
“Beautiful,” she parrots back. “This was so much fun!”
“Maybe I can bring you back again.”
“You liked it?” Willow hops out of her chair, careful not to mess up her new nails.
“It was more fun with you.”
Hell, maybe even next time we could bring Ivy.
Following the woman to the counter, I hand over the money and wait for change. A small calendar with the Dixon Damsels sits there. Our college softball team.
“You have a wonderful daughter.” She passes back the change, but I give it back to her.
“Thanks.”
Willow is admiring her nails as I open the door for her.
“Hey Willow. Want to see the Damsels play today?”
Her tiny head pops up to look at me as a wall of heat hits us. “Can we get a hot dog for lunch?”
