“Daddy!” Hazel squeals. “Open you-a eyes!”
My daughter holds out her hands. She’s dressed in a black leotard and leggings with huge cotton balls glued all over her smock. Pink and black ears jut out from a white, wooly cap. “Aww. What a beautiful little lamb.”
Abby clears her throat with a saucy smile on her face.
Okay. Wow. “Are you a milkmaid?” Because, Jesus, I wanna get up close and personal with her incredible rack right now.
“No, silly. I’m Little Bo Peep.” She presses her hands down her skirt. “Is this okay? Paige helped me get the costumes together.”
“You two look incredible.”
It’s really inappropriate to have an erection right now, but Abby’s so damn hot in that getup. She’s wearing a pink gingham dress that laces up the front with a fitted bodice, a lacy apron, and white tights. Her long, blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in pigtails tied with ribbons.
As I check her out again, I notice something’s different, more than just her outfit. “You fixed your glasses.” I almost miss the little bundle of white tape on the corner. “They look great.”
She smiles and traces a finger over where they were once broken. “Not too nerdy?”
“Not at all.” Funny how I used to think they looked a little geeky. Now I just think she looks smart and really fucking beautiful.
“I realized I’m actually pretty fond of this pair.”
When Hazel turns away to grab her jack-o’-lantern, I kiss Abby’s forehead. “I am too.” I take in her outfit once more and try to keep my jaw from unhinging because Abby’s a total smokeshow. “My shepherd costume makes sense now.”
“Baaa!” My daughter twirls in the middle of the living room. “Let’s go!”
Her happiness is infectious, and I find myself smiling for the first time this week. As my daughter skips to the front door, I hug Abby. “Thanks, buttercup. You’re the best.”
The shy smile she gives me makes my heart race. Damn, this woman is addictive. I’ve tried to get some space this week to work through my shit, but I can’t stay away from her anymore. It’s been killing me to tuck her in at night and not fuck her senseless, but it felt wrong to use sex to feel better.
After I tell Hazel to put on her coat, I whisper in Abby’s ear, “Don’t change out of the costume when we get home.”
The look she gives me makes me grateful I’m wearing this getup because it would be really awkward to go trick-or-treating with a giant stiffy.
Abby wants us to take photos, so she has me kneel down next to Hazel to snap a few. Thankfully, this family-friendly moment is an instant boner-killer.
“Join us. We’ll take a selfie.” I motion her closer.
With my daughter in my left arm, I wrap my right one around Little Bo Peep. She holds her hand out with her camera, and we yell, “Cheese!”
Then I take a few of her and Hazel. They look so damn sweet together.
I dash off pics to my dad and Cynthia. When Gemma’s mom immediately texts back, anxiety shoots up my spine, but she only thanks me and says Hazel looks adorable.
Abby and I once again swing Hazel between us as we head out. All the neighborhood kids are running from house to house. When we reach the first one, I hand my daughter her jack-o’-lantern. “Remember to say thank you when you get a treat, and don’t eat any of the candy until we can check it at home.”
She nods and skips up the walkway.
“Ring the doorbell,” I call out from a few feet away. As I watch her wait for our neighbor to answer, I lean over to Abby. “Do you think this is okay? Or should we go with her?”
“We’re right here. If she needs help, you can step in.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I realize I’m overprotective and need to chill my ass out, but how do you know what’s too much?”
“You have great instincts when it comes to Hazel. Trust yourself.” She gives me a sweet smile and squeezes my arm. “This is age appropriate. If she was a little younger or shyer, we could go up to the house with her. We’re close enough to keep her safe, but far enough away to let her do her thing. I think you’re giving her the perfect amount of independence. She’s going to grow up to be a confident young woman someday. Just watch.”
Thank God I’m doing something right. Some days I feel like I’m barely keeping this train on the tracks.
Abby’s phone buzzes with a text, which she reads and thumbs a response on the screen. “Just Paige asking if we want to go to a Halloween party.”
