Hello! Welcome to my new story! Hopefully, you'll like it. :)

Big thanks to Fran for beta'ing and just her general support with this story. I really appreciate it!

If there are any mistakes, please ignore them ... they're all my fault!

I don't own anything Twilight.

Chapter One-

I gasp and stumble into the wall, dropping the armful of items I'm holding and sending them scattering across the floor. I squeeze my eyes closed as the right side of my body throbs in pain, and tears burn behind my eyelids. Taking deep breaths through my nose, I try to push past the warning Leah had uttered this morning before I left.

"You're not ready to go back, Bella. It's too soon!"

She was right, but I didn't have a choice; there were bills that needed to be paid, and I needed to work for said bills. I didn't care what she said; I wasn't going to ask my mother for help. It wasn't her problem.

"Bella? What happened? Shit, come on."

I open my eyes and see my co-worker, Jane, rushing toward me, hands outstretched. Sliding an arm around my waist and lifting my arm, she helps me gingerly shuffle toward one of the tables in the break room, kicking out a chair so I can sit.

Collapsing into the seat with a whimper, I angrily wipe away the tears that had managed to fall.

Jane kneels in front of me; her blue eyes narrowed in concern. "Do you need anything?"

"N-no," I replied, clearing my throat. "No. I have medicine, but I'm saving those for tonight."

"Well, you need to take them now. You look like shit."

I laugh, amazed by her honesty. "Thanks."

She shrugs, unrepentant. "You look like crap. You should be resting."

"I have—"

She rolls her eyes, waving a hand. "Bills, I know. I get it. But look at you!"

This time, it's me who shrugs. I don't look great. I have a walking cast on my right foot, a brace on my left arm, and bruises that are finally light enough to cover with makeup. It's not the greatest, but I look better than I did a few weeks ago.

Gripping my right hand, she squeezes gently. "I don't mean it in an ugly way, sweets. I just don't think it's good for you to be working so soon after what happened. What did your doctor say?"

"Not to push it," I mumble.

Her lips purse as she hums. "It's nice to see you're listening."

"I didn't even do anything! I just had a pain."

"Mm-hmm."

I mutter a curse as I glance over my shoulder at the sound of a slamming door, seeing the angry scowl of my manager getting closer. Leaning against my good arm, I rise on shaking legs, trying to school my features so I don't look like I'm in agony.

"What the hell happened in here?" my manager, Alec, fumes, his eyes slowly sweeping over the plastic ponies littered the breakroom floor.

"Bella's fine, asshole," Jane snaps, her eyes alight with fire and annoyance.

Alec releases a long breath, the stiffness in his shoulders loosening … just barely. "Get this cleaned up and get it on the shelves. After that's done, you can take a small break. I want everything out on the floor before you leave today."

"How generous," Jane mutters. "You could help."

Alec glowers, his hands fisted on his hips. "I'm running the store, Jane. I don't have time to babysit you!"

"How are you running it? You're in your office, sitting on your ass."

His face turns an odd shade of puce as he glares at her. "Get to work."

With that, he marches to the back, the sound of a slamming door resounding through the area. Jane raises both hands and extends her middle fingers in the direction he disappeared before turning to face me.

"You shouldn't do that," I mumble as I start picking up the toys. "He probably has cameras back here."

Jane snorts as she joins me, tossing the small boxes into a pile flippantly. "I don't give a shit. I'll do it to his face."

I say nothing because it's true. Jane is fearless and doesn't hold back on giving her opinion, especially when it comes to assholes.

"You're gonna get fired."

Jane rolls her eyes. "Please. He's too chicken shit for one."

I nod in agreement, knowing this to be true.

"For another, I have too much crap on him," she admits, her smile devious. "I caught him being a little too friendly with the owner's fiancée at the company Christmas party last year."

My eyes go wide, and I freeze in shock. Alec would do such a thing. He didn't appear to be the type to fool around with an engaged woman, especially the one who's married to the guy who signs your paychecks.

Then again, I don't know Alec that well, so I don't know what he's capable of doing.

"Oh, yeah. He's afraid I'm going to spill at any moment. He gets extremely nervous whenever I stop to talk to Alistair," she tells me with a sinister giggle.

I frown, feeling bad for him. He isn't the friendliest guy on the planet; he's rather aloof and quiet, staring at you with a penetrating stare that unsettles you. Despite this, he's never done or said anything that made me think he's a bad guy.

In fact, he's been generous with Christmas bonuses and time off during emergencies, something a lot of places don't do.

"Shouldn't he know?" I quietly ask, being mindful of any ears that might be listening. "It feels wrong. He's not that bad."

Jane shakes her head. "Sweets, I'm sure he already knows. Men with his money have private detectives on speed dial, willing to look into anyone they think about. And if he doesn't, I'm sure he will soon. I doubt he will marry her without looking into her first … or have an ironclad prenup," she muses.

I hadn't thought about that, and I hope she's right. No one deserves that kind of treatment.

After all the toys are stacked, I sigh and pick them back up, holding them tightly against my chest. "I better get these out there."

"I'll come help," Jane says, following me. "It looks like you have a lot of inventory that came in."

I grimace at the thought; on the left sits a good amount of boxes filled with various toys that need to go out on the floor. I don't know if I'll be able to get them all out before my shift is over, considering I'm the only one in my department.

"You have your inventory to put out," I say, nodding toward the stack next to mine that belongs to the boy's department.

Jane scoffs, kicking one of the boxes as we stop near them. "Jess and Eric are here today, so they can do it. You're here by yourself. How that asshole thinks you can do all of this by yourself in your condition is beyond me."

I frown at that, pushing a flat rolling cart over. I hadn't noticed I was the only one working in the toy department when I checked the walk-sheet this morning. Then again, I don't look at it since I'm never scheduled anywhere else.

"I'll try my best."

"No, you'll have my help," Jane corrects, grabbing one of my boxes and ripping off the tape. Instead of unloading them, she places the boxes on the cart. "It's easier this way," she says, noting my confused look. "We'll just unload them on the floor and bring the trash back here."

I don't remark on it; Jane has worked here longer than I have, so I'm sure she knows the ins and outs of getting the new inventory out quickly.

I limp behind Jane as she slowly pulls the cart out of the back, leaning my weight on the cart while I help her push it. If she's annoyed by my turtle-like movements, she doesn't show it; she does, however, display her displeasure at a screaming kid somewhere in the store.

"I hate kids," she grumbles, wincing as a shriek fills the air.

"Jane!"

"What? They're loud and annoying."

Shaking my head, I stop and sigh; it's a complete mess. The various dolls are sitting haphazardly on the shelves or thrown about, accessory sets are strewn about everywhere, and hundreds of beads are scattered along the floor.

It's an injury waiting to happen.

"Jesus. I'll start cleaning. You straighten the shelves and get things unloaded."

"No, I—" I start to argue, but Jane ignores me, already grabbing the broom hidden behind a shelf and tackling the mess of beads.

I do as instructed, straightening the shelves and picking up the toys. When Jane has the beads swept up, she joins me in straightening the shelves, muttering under her breath the entire time.

"I don't know what Lauren does when she's here, but it's obviously not working."

I agree with her, but I don't say it out loud. While Lauren is cordial, she doesn't ever want to do any work. She wanders around the store on her phone, or she flirts with the guys she thinks are cute. Whenever a manager walks by, she pretends to work.

It's exasperating; it means more work for me. I've tried to bring it to Alec's attention, but he brushes me off, saying he doesn't have time for it. If this continues any longer, he will make time because I can't do two people's jobs.

Once everything is straightened, I drag a box of miniature dollhouses over, to where it needs to be. My eyebrows rise to my hairline as I spot the age on the box, wondering how something for kids could be safe, considering the small pieces.

Shaking my head, I place them on the shelf in a neat stack until the cardboard box is empty. Taking the garbage to the cart, I lug another over to repeat the process. As soon as I grab the last toy that needs to be put up, I feel a tug on the back of my shirt.

"' Scuse me, mis'am," a confident voice says, tugging on my shirt again.

Turning, I see a little girl who stands nearly to the middle of my thigh, her dark strawberry hair in misshapen pigtails on either side of her head. Her pink shirt is stained in what appears to be syrup, with wet splotches over them, as if someone had tried to scrub them away only managed to spread it.

In her right arm, she's holding a Little Miss doll to her chest, its light brown hair a mess of tangles and knots.

My niece has wanted one since they came out earlier this year because the main draw of these dolls is they eat, mess their diaper, and coo like a real baby. However, with my meager paychecks and the numerous bills I have waiting, there's no way I can afford it.

"Hello," I greet, with a smile. "How can I help you, miss?"

She giggles, covering her mouth as she does so, her hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hi!"

"Hi," I repeat, glancing up quickly to see if her mother or father are near, but see no one around. "Where are your parents?"

Her face scrunches in concentration as she thinks. "Well, my momma is home, and my daddy is 'round heres. I need a new dress for my baby," she tells me, thrusting her doll at me. "It's her birthday."

"Well, happy birthday to your baby."

Her responding grin is bright and joyful as she squeezes her doll to her chest. "Fank you. I need a pink dress for her. Momma said we will have a birthday party tonight, and daddy said he buy me one if I don't tell Momma about the scary movie we sawed last night," she tells me, her tone a matter of fact.

I'm not sure what to make of her confession, but I don't have to ponder on it for long.

"Hazel! Hazel Elizabeth Cullen!" A frantic, masculine voice calls out.

I look at the little girl, who rolls her eyes and sighs as if she's exasperated.

"Is that your daddy? Are you Hazel?"

She nods once, her hair bouncing off her cheeks. "Yeah. He know'd I'm in here. I don't know why he sounds like that."

I stifle a laugh, clearing my throat to cover up the sound. "Sometimes, when daddy's care about you a lot, they get worried when you disappear," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady as my throat tightens with emotion. "Let's go find him, okay?" Tilting my head to the left, I gesture for her to walk ahead.

"But what about my baby's dress?"

"We'll come—"

"Hazel Elizabeth!"

The little girl, Hazel, jumps as a man comes sliding around the corner, his eyes wide and wild, filled with anxiety and fear. His copper-colored hair stands at all angles, and his black shirt is wrinkled at the hem as if he had been twisting it.

Black ink swirls up his arms from his wrists, disappearing under his short sleeves. My mouth goes dry at the sight, wondering how far the designs go and if he has more.

He breathes a sigh of relief as he spots his daughter, his shoulders sagging. Hands on his hips, he trudges over, his steps staggering as if he's exhausted.

"Hazel-nut, are you trying to give me gray hair?" He asks, kneeling to his daughter's level. "You don't ever walk away from me, understand?"

"But Daddy—"

"No," he interrupts firmly. "Never. What is the rule when we're out of the car?"

Hazel's eyes water, her lower lips sticking out in a pout. "Don't let go of your hand and stay in your eyes."

Her father chuckles once, shaking his head. "Right, you hold my hand and stay in my line of sight. Did you do that?"

"No. I sorry." Her voice is so low I have to strain to hear her, but her father hears her just fine.

"I accept your apology, baby, but don't ever do it again, okay?"

"Okay," she mutters with a sniffle, a little fist rubbing at one of her eyes. "Amma I still gonna get a dress for my baby?"

He huffs, his eyes slightly narrowed. "I shouldn't after what you did."

Hazel gasps, her head snapping up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "But you said—"

"I know what I said," he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You promised."

He sighs, his head falling forward, so his chin touches his chest. "I know. And I know where that promise came from. Shit."

"Bad word!" his daughter scolds, wagging a finger in his face.

His eyes narrow, and he pulls her into his chest, blowing raspberries on her neck. She shrieks in laughter, trying to squirm away from him, but he holds her tight.

Realizing I'm intruding on a private moment, I take half a step backward. As I do so, I kick the box with my walking cast.

My face explodes in a blush and I give a half-hearted wave as I realize they're both watching me. "Hello," I mumble.

The man grins, his smile rising higher on his left than his right, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. Lightly, he chuckles and stands with a groan as his knees audibly pop. As he rises, he picks up his daughter, settling her on his hip.

His gaze sweeps down from my face to my walking cast, his eyebrows furrowed together as his lips purse in thought. I shift and clear my throat, my face heating for a different reason.

"Hi," he quickly says, shaking his head. "Do you know where we can find a dress for my daughter's doll?"

"Her name is Princess," Hazel informs us with a huff.

Her father rolls his eyes, giving her a placated smile. "Of course, I forgot."

"She your grand—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he interrupts with a shake of his head. "Nope. We're not gonna call her that, remember?"

Hazel laughs, her giggle making me smile. "But momma says—"

"Nope. Remember our bargain?"

Hazel's face screws up in concentration as she thinks before a huge smile light up her face. "No childrens for me until you're eighty-four!"

"Correct!"

I can't help but smile at their interaction; it's obvious love each other, and their exchanges are so sweet I'll probably have cavities if I watch them any longer.

A relationship like this seems so unreal to me, like something you'd see in a movie or a heartfelt family show, but to see it up close and in person, something that's not fake or put-on for people who could be watching is nice. Sure, I've seen how good of a relationship my friends and acquaintances have with their fathers, but there's just something so sweet about these two I can't quite put my finger on.

Idly, I wonder if I had any moments like this with my father. I know of one summer when he picked me up from the airport when he had visitation rights. He bought me a chocolate shake, and we blasted classic rock, singing at the top of our lungs as we drove down the highway.

But with that memory comes a wave of sadness for something that's gone.

Delicately, I clear my throat, nodding toward the stack of toys that still need to be unloaded. Their attention turns back to me, and the man's cheek colors to a delicate shade of pink. Nervously, he scratches the back of his head as if he had forgotten I was there, which makes everything all the more endearing.

As he continues to look at me, his embarrassment fades as his grin falls into a confused frown.

"I think I have what you're looking for over there," I softly say, pointing to the boxes.

Carefully hobbling over, I take a peek inside the first two boxes on top, not remembering which boxes I had seen the baby-doll dress in. The first boxes are duds, so I quickly move on to the one underneath. The third proves to be the right one.

It's full of Little Miss dresses styled after princesses.

"You were looking for pink, right?" I ask, looking at the duo over my shoulder.

Hazel nods, her eyes lighting up in happiness.

Quickly, I dig through the box, finding a pink dress. I hold it up, smiling as she squeals in delight, thrusting a hand out in a "give me" motion. With a soft chuckle, I hand it over, and she holds it up to her baby doll. Immediately cooing.

"Hazel, what do we—"

"Tank you, mis'am!" she exclaims excitedly, her grin huge.

"You're welcome, Miss Hazel."

Her father rolls his eyes, an indulgent smile on his face. "At least I don't have to remind her."

I nod in agreement. "You did well."

"I try," he says modestly, shrugging a shoulder.

I'm not sure what more I can say or do, and technically, I've done everything I can, so I guess my job here is done.

"Well, have a good day, you two. And happy birthday again to your baby," I say to Hazel, but I'm ignored as she coos to her baby attempting to brush out her hair with her fingers as she rambles about the party they're going to have later.

"She's adorable," I murmur.

Looking up, I notice he's staring at me with a pensive look on his face, a small smile perched on his lips.

"Yeah, she has her moments," he jokes.

I laugh before waving my goodbyes with a smile, returning to where I was before, resuming my earlier stocking.

A throat clearing behind me seconds after I start has me turning around, spotting Hazel's dad standing there, a mixture of apprehension and determination on his face. It has me curious, wondering what's going through his head.

"Yes?"

He clears his throat, shifting from right to left on his feet. "I'm Edward, and this is Hazel, as you already know."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Bella."

One side of his mouth lifts. "Bella," he says as if committing it to his memory. "Wonderful to meet you. Thank you for helping us."

"No problem at all."

His eyebrows come together, his mouth opening as if he's going to speak, but he never does. I smile politely and clear my throat, entwining my hands together at my front as I wait. After almost a minute, I take half a step back.

"Well, Edward, I hope you have a good day."

"Coffee," he blurts, his cheeks immediately turning pink. Squeezing his eyes closed, he chuckles lowly, shoving a hand through his messy hair. "You'd think I was fifteen again, shit."

Taking a deep breath, he turns his attention to his daughter, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he shifts her higher on his hip.

"Would you like to go out for coffee?" he asks, releasing a breath.

My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline as I process his request. For the slightest moment, I'm stunned. I'm surprised he would ask such a thing based on seemingly nothing.

I'm not really looking my best at the moment, with my injuries on full display. I haven't seen what my hair looks like, but I'm sure it's a mess of frizz and tangles, as it often is when I tie it at the base of my neck. I'm not unattractive, but the only guys that hit on me here are looking for some fun before they go home to their wives.

My eyes then drift to his left hand, in particular his ring finger. It's bare, with no sign of a ring ever being there, and while I'm slightly comforted by that fact, it doesn't mean he's not married. Several guys don't even wear a ring, so I'm unsure as to what his status is.

Hazel did mention her mother, but he could be co-parenting.

"Are you—" I start, only to be interrupted.

"Daddy, can we go home to Mommy now?" Hazel asks, unknowingly answering my question. "She says we're gonna have a birfday party for my baby."

"Sure, Hazelnut, just give me a moment, okay?"

Hazel huffs, her lower lip sticking out in a pout, and I decide not to waste any more time as Edward glances at me hopefully.

"I can't," I reply coldly. "I'm busy, and it seems you have somewhere to be."

His face falls into disappointment and confusion as I walk around him, glaring at him as I do so. I shake my head, muttering under my breath at his bold actions. Quickly as I can, I hobble away, not caring that I still have merchandise to put away.

I won't be going back over there until he's long gone.

How could he think of asking me out in front of his daughter? It seems like he's still with his daughter's mother if she's asking if they can go home to her now.

Did he not think I wouldn't notice that? Or not care?

I'm not the type of person to be 'the other woman,' and I never will be. I won't break up a family like that.

Of course, I could be blowing this out of proportion; he could be divorced, and Hazel is living with her mother.

The thought makes me pause, but I immediately shake it off.

For some reason, his asking me out in front of his daughter is a little off-putting, but that's just me.

Besides, whatever his situation is, it doesn't matter. I've seen too many movies and heard too many horror stories about ex-wives wanting to claim their territory on what they once had, and I do not want to be in that situation.

There's too much going on in my life, and I don't need anything new right now.

EPOV-

Shit.

I struck out big time. Normally, I can brush it off pretty quickly and continue on, but there's something about this woman that has me yearning for more.

It's probably due to the attention she gave my daughter. Normally, women will make sure I'm paying attention as they coo and shower Hazel with attention, only to ignore her once they get a second of my consideration.

Bella didn't seem like she was after me; she seemed to give her attention genuinely to Hazel, and while we did make eye contact and interact, I didn't get the feeling she wanted more than that … if she wanted anything at all.

That could be a possibility … and while I want nothing more than to get to know her, she's not a fan of the idea, so I need to respect that.

I'm extremely curious about her; where she comes from, how she got injured … and who hurt her because it's obvious she has some kind of pain in her life that goes beyond the physical.

My mind then runs rampant with the possibility of someone hitting her, and a red haze clouds my vision. I think of the men and women my father has helped in his clinic, one of them being my cousin, Victoria. When I remember the abuse she went through, it makes my blood boil thinking someone else could be going through the same thing.

I wonder if Victoria's fiancée, James, would help me look into Bella, just to be safe. He works for the Port Angeles Police Department and could check in on her.

Just as I think it, I realize how creepy it sounds, but Bella is someone's daughter. If Hazel were being hurt, I would want someone to help her

"Can I help you?" a woman with chin-length blonde hair asks, her eyes narrowed as she stares at me. Her eyes travel up and down my body, and from the sneer on her face, I think she finds me lacking.

"Uh, no, thanks. We were looking for this dress," I reply, holding up the doll dress.

The woman, whose name tag read Jane, huffs and rolls her eyes. "Okay, then."

My eyebrows rise into my hairline at her attitude, but I remember working retail. It's not always a treat.

She starts to step around me, but I reach out toward her, jerking my hand back at the last second when her eyes narrow further.

"Sorry, I was—I was wondering, do you know Bella?"

"Since I work with her, I'll say that's a yes," she drawls, her words dripping with sarcasm.

I laugh. "Okay, fair point. But we don't always want to know the people we work with, either."

Her lips purse as she considers this before nodding once. "Touché. What about her?"

"She helped my daughter find this dress … I—I know this will sound weird, but is she okay?"

A red flush washes over her face, flooding her neck. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" I exclaim, throwing my free hand up in the air and taking a step back. "I was just concerned, all right? She looked beat up."

Ever so slightly, the harshness fades out of Jane's face. "No, it's nothing like that … and that's all I'm telling you."

I nod, respecting the boundaries and feeling relieved it's nothing like I thought. "I understand. Thank you."

"Mmhmm," she hums, eying me skeptically. "You're the jerk that asked her out, huh?"

Shocked, my mouth drops open, which makes Hazel laugh hysterically. I hadn't realized she was paying close attention to what was happening. I need to be better about that; otherwise, she'll have a whole arsenal of blackmail material to use against me.

"Your doll's hair isn't brushed on this side, Hazelnut," I tell her, pointing to a random spot on the doll's head.

Luckily, I get the response I'm looking for; she gasps and starts combing her fingers through her doll's messy hair, muttering about how she needs to be pretty for her party.

Angling her away from Jane, I speak in a low hiss. "How am I a jerk? I just asked her out for coffee!" I mildly complain, thoroughly confused about the entire interaction.

Jane smirks, shaking her head. "Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out once you go home."

With that cryptic statement, she turns and marches off toward the area where Bella had been, sweeping some weird-looking looking bead-things into a pile.

"Are we going home now, Daddy? I can't wait to show Mommy my new baby dress."

Suppressing a sigh, I give my daughter an indulgent smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sure, Hazelnut. Let's go."

She squeals and bounces on my hip, making me groan and shift her feet slightly away from my groin, where she's extremely close to kicking me. She begins rambling again, and most of it, I can't make out, but she's happy, and that's all that matters to me.

After paying a ridiculous amount for a doll's dress that costs almost as much as a dress for my daughter, I make sure she's buckled into her seat and take off toward Kate's house.

As we get closer and Hazel's excited voice goes a pitch higher, my eyes start to burn, and a faint, dull throbbing emits from my chest.

This part of the evening is always so hard for me.

I want Hazel with me all the time, instead of sleepovers three times a week; I want to be able to tuck her in and comfort her after her nightmares and be there in the morning when she wakes with a raging case of bedhead and a grumpy, half-awake attitude every day.

I know I'm lucky to have such a good co-parenting relationship with Kate. She's pretty loose on the routine when I want her at my place on a whim, and she's even let me stay over at her house during the holidays, so I won't miss anything.

But I would like more.

That's being selfish of me, though. Hazel needs her mother just as much as Kate needs her daughter.

I suppose Kate and I could have stayed together for Hazel, and we did try for a little after we learned Kate was pregnant, but neither one of us was happy. We loved each other, but we weren't in love with each other.

That became even more obvious when Kate met Garrett; as soon as she met him, she had that starry-eyed schoolgirl look about her, like she was in paradise and never wanted to leave.

Not to say she wasn't happy with me, but I couldn't make her smile like Garrett.

What's even better is he treats both Kate and Hazel like they're the most important people in his world, which is all that matters to me. As long as they're happy, I'm happy.

… For the most part.

I still don't like being separated from my daughter.

Sighing heavily, I pull into Kate's driveway, and I can't help smiling as she excitedly squeals.

"Momma! Mommy, look what I got!" she calls, waving her doll in the air, who's half covered in the new dress.

I guess she couldn't wait until one of us helped her.

"She can't hear you, baby."

"Oh yeah," she says with a giggle before kicking her feet, her face turning demanding. "Hurry, Daddy. I wanna show her."

"All right, all right," I playfully grumble, removing myself and exiting the car. From the front window of Kate's bungalow, I see the curtain in the living room shift. Seconds later, I see half her face illuminated, her eyes crinkled as she smiles.

Giving her a smile and a wave, I head to the backseat to release my little monster.

Hazel attempts to unbuckle herself, and I clear my throat, giving her a pointed look. Guilt washes over her features because she knows she's not supposed to touch that buckle, regardless of whether the car is moving or not.

I know for a fact Kate, Garrett, and I have told her this repeatedly, but it seems it's not sticking.

"Hazel Elizabeth, what is the number one rule of any car you're in?"

Her eyes well with tears, and her head drops forward, her chin touching her chest. "No touching the buckle."

"Mmhmm. Hazel, we've talked about this. You can't unbuckle yourself. You wait for one of us to do right, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. I sorry."

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I move some of her crazy hair away from her face. "I accept your apology. Don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay."

Satisfied but not convinced she won't do it again, I unbuckle her and set her on the ground, quickly grabbing her bag and chasing after her as she races to the front door, calling for Kate.

The door opens before Hazel can reach it, and Kate bends down, pulling our daughter into her arms. She squeezes her tightly and closes her eyes as she inhales deeply, releasing a soft sigh before she pulls back, looking her over.

Some people might take offense, but I don't; I know Kate means well and trusts me. She just wants to make sure Hazel is okay.

I do the same thing every time I pick her up.

"Look what I got, Mommy!" she squeals, thrusting her doll with her dress half on her face. "Baby got a new dress for her birfday! She gonna be so pretty."

Kate jerks her head in an effort not to get struck in the face but still gets smacked in the nose. "I see. It's very beautiful. How did you get this?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me in question.

I shrug, shoving my hands in my pockets and hoping my face isn't as red as it feels.

"I made a promise to Daddy," Hazel tells her.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I swallow thickly, trying to avoid Kate's inquisitive glare.

"What promise, baby?"

Luckily, Hazel is paying her question no attention and pushes herself out of Kate's embrace, tugging her bag into the house and leaving it in the doorway.

"I hafta go get the party ready!" Hazel calls over her shoulder, leaving without saying goodbye.

"I can see I'm old news," I playfully joke, even though it does sting a little.

Kate moves Hazel's bag out of the way and leans against the door. "You know how she gets," she tells me, her voice dripping with understanding and sympathy. "And she doesn't realize—"

I give a dismissive wave, knowing she's not doing it on purpose. "I know."

"So, what did she promise that prompted you to buy her an expensive ass doll's dress?"

"How do you know how much it was?"

Kate rolls her eyes with a snort. "Please. You don't think she hasn't asked for that overpriced fabric since we got her that doll?"

I hadn't put that together; it didn't occur to me she might have asked for it, and Kate had already said no. Normally for holidays and birthdays, we coordinate with who's buying what; that way, there are no repeats of anything.

If we feel there's a need for a 'just because' gift, we do give the other a heads-up, just to keep them in a loop.

Something I didn't do today, for good reason.

"So? The reason."

I shrug again. "No reason."

Kate calls me out with a loud laugh. "That is such bullshit!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she levels me with a hard, pointed stare as she plants her feet shoulder-length apart.

It's her 'combat stance.'

I've seen her use this often when she knows someone is hiding something.

Shit.

"I asked someone out at the toy store," I blurt out, feeling the heat rise up the back of my neck at the confession. I didn't want to tell anyone about that failure, but if it got Kate off my back, I'd endure the embarrassment.

Kate's knowing look turns into a smirk, and her body relaxes. "Oh, really now?" she says, a teasing lilt to her tone. "Using our daughter to score dates? I told you, she's a babe magnet. How do you think I landed Garrett?"

I laugh, not at her words, but at the truth of her words.

She had been reintroduced to Garrett through Hazel, though it was purely unintentional and accidental.

They first met just before she and I got together. They had run into each other as he was delivering to her mother's office, and Kate confessed, they were both immediately entranced. According to the story, they stared at one another for almost five minutes.

Kate had told me there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She didn't get a chance to get his name or number before his cell phone rang, and he left, sparing a glance at her over his shoulder before he left the building.

They hadn't seen each other since, until one summer afternoon when Hazel was three.

Garrett had been walking his cat in the park, and Hazel informed him that he had the wrong type of animal on the leash. He had politely told her that he trained his cat to walk on a leash because he loved to go outside and was trained since he was a kitten.

Hazel was fascinated and called her mother over to see this marvel. And when Kate came over, she recognized Garrett … and the rest, as they say, is history.

They're now living together, and Kate doesn't know it, but sometime soon, Garrett is going to propose.

He had asked for my blessing, something he felt was important since I'm Hazel's father and the other important guy in her life.

Kate and Garrett's words, respectively.

He looked nervous, though I'm not sure if it's because he thought I'd say no or the act itself, but I'm going with the latter since he still looked apprehensive as hell even after I told him I thought he was perfect for Kate and my baby.

Humorlessly, I chuckle, scratching the back of my neck. "Yeah, not … quite."

"What do you mean?"

"She … uh, she turned me down."

A harsh bark of laughter leaves Kate. She slaps a hand over her mouth, but her shoulders still shake as she chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

"I'm sorry," she replies in between her giggles. "You look like a disappointed kid who didn't get what he wanted for his birthday."

Rolling my eyes, I wave a hand at her, silently telling her to hurry up.

"I'm sorry," she says again, her amusement dying down. "You can't win them all."

"Obviously," I dryly reply. "I'm not upset … just confused."

Kate's eyebrows furrow together. "Why? Maybe she wasn't interested. Or in a relationship. Or maybe she thought you were a creep picking her up with your kid while you had a wife hidden somewhere."

The possibility makes me pause, but only for a moment. I think of the other woman's words … Jane … and think Kate might be on to something.

But there's no use in thinking about it now. It's in the past, and there's no changing what happened. Besides, it's not like I'll see her again.

"Ha-ha. Hilarious. It's just everything was going fine, and then—" I trail off with a shrug. "Anyway, doesn't matter. Hazel said something about a project for her preschool class?"

Kate nods. "Yeah, a short story using a list of words she learned this week. We're working on it."

"She mentioned that. I helped with some of it, but she wanted to save the other part for you."

She smiles at the proclamation, her eyes turning a little glassy. She sniffles, rubbing her eye—the same thing Hazel does when she's upset or tired. This reaction seems a little extreme, and before I can ask her about it, she clears her throat and looks under control, like nothing ever happened.

"I'll help her. Thanks, Edward."

"Of course. You okay?"

Kate smiles, reaching for my hand and squeezing it once. "I'm fine, worrywart. Just tired."

I hum, not convinced, but it's not my place to interrogate her. "If you say so. I guess … I guess I better get going," I murmur, looking into the house for any sign of my daughter. I can hear her excited voice rambling and the faint, low tenor of Garrett's voice murmuring a reply, but they're nowhere in sight. "I'll see you later, okay?" I say, backing up. "Call me if you need anything."

"Always. But don't you want to stay for dinner? We have more than enough."

The idea is a good one; I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning, too busy trying to keep up with Hazel and make sure she had everything packed to return to Kate's.

My stomach agrees because it grumbles loudly. Luckily, Kate doesn't seem to hear it.

"I don't want—"

Kate rolls her eyes and turns her head toward the house. "Garrett, Edward doesn't want to impose on our dinner."

I hear the low murmur of his voice before his head of shaggy brown hair pops into view. "Stop being a stubborn ass. What have we told you? You're family … and it's free food and more time with your daughter. Don't be an idiot."

With those parting words, he's gone again, leaving me amused and Kate snickering.

I don't argue anymore because he's right … it's a free meal and more time with my baby. I won't ever pass up on that offer.

And maybe, just maybe, I can talk to Hazel again about our deal. She came close to spilling earlier, so I need to make sure she knows our movie night stays between us and that there's nothing to be scared about.

Maybe if I act like it's not a big deal—because it really wasn't—then Hazel will follow my example.

…Which she will.

She's a strong kid, and there's no way she'd be afraid of cute little Gremlins you don't feed after midnight.

At least, I'm hoping.

I'm going to try and update weekly, but please forgive me if I don't make it.

See you next time!