Always Conall (Bitterroot #2) by Sibylla Matilde Read Free Book Online Page B

nervousness, peeked back up at me for reassurance. “It’s okay, monkey,” I softly promised. “He’s a… very close friend. I’ve known him since I was just a little girl like you.”
    Her eyes grew wide. This, after all, was an eternity to a four-year-old.
    My introduction seemed to soothe her wary concern somewhat, and, with her typical welcoming exuberance, she presented Conall with a cheerful smile. “We’re getting ice cream.”
    I could almost see some of the tension escape Conall’s shoulders with her nonchalant little declaration. “Cool,” he said with an almost wistful smile.
    “What are you getting?” she asked as she started eyeing his cart. Frozen pizzas, hot dogs… man food.
    “Um, nothing as good as your ice cream. Just some groceries.” He glanced back up at me. “I’m heading out to the ranch in a bit. Checked out of the hotel and moved some stuff out there this afternoon.”
    “Ranch? With ponies ?” Mattie was suddenly very interested in every word that came out of Conall’s mouth. “I love ponies.”
    “Well, there’s horses.” He seemed a bit unsure how to talk to her. Little did he know that he could easily reply in simple, monosyllabic answers, and she’d talk circles around him.
    “ Purple ones?”
    “ Purple horses?” Conall asked dumfoundedly, and I chuckled a bit at his confusion.
    “Can I ride one?” she smiled hugely ,  bouncing on the balls of her feet as she squirmed with a barely contained glee at the prospect.
    “Um, well, that’s kind of up to your mom,” he looked at me helplessly. I tried really hard not to, but I couldn’t help but find a little joy in just how uncomfortable he was. Mattie ’s incessant questioning could wear me down, and I was a seasoned pro. It felt entirely too good to see him, all tough and alpha male, rattled by my pint-sized clone.
    Then I realized her little blue eyes were staring up at me expectantly.
    “Maybe someday, monkey,” I murmured with that age-old motherly platitude, not saying no, but not saying yes either.
    “We’re making pasgetti for dinner,” Mattie said as she started looking through Conall’s cart. “My mommy makes the best pasgetti . You should come over. She always makes a lot .”
    “Um…” Conall looked over at me for some guidance on how to deal with our precocious little daughter. Suddenly, his nervousness wasn ’t nearly as amusing. It actually seemed contagious, which in turn seemed rather alarming. I became almost queasy with the thought of having him in our home.
    Yet… I suddenly really wanted him there. Like really really. It was something I’d fantasized about on many occasions. Something I had dreamed of for years.
    “You’re welcome to,” I quietly offered. “It might… be nice, you know, to have an old friend over?” I emphasized his role at dinner and arched my brow, hoping I was conveying the desire to keep him from spilling the beans. I wasn’t ready to tell Mattie who he really was. I didn’t know if Conall was ready for that either.
    “And look,” Mattie exclaimed as she dug through her little cart to hold up the tub of ice cream, “Oreo!”
    “Well, in that case,” Conall grinned down at her, “I’d love to. Oreo is my favorite.”
    “Mine too,” Mattie incredulously replied.
    His dark eyes locked onto mine once again, slipping down my body, and it all suddenly smacked me up-side the head at just how little I was wearing. Dressed to catch some rays, I had a relatively small bikini covered only by a mesh tank dress and sparkly little flip-flops. The realization actually seemed to hit both of us at the same time as his perusal sent tingles through me.
    “So, we’ll go and, uh… change and get dinner started,” I breathlessly rushed out. “Should be ready about six-thirty or so if you want to come by about then. We’re in the Prickly Pear apartments, number twenty-seven. Sound okay?”
    “It sounds wonderful.”
    “Okay. Well, Mattie,” I dropped my gaze