Billionaires Dollar Series

“Come on in,” Ethan says. “I’ll leave the front door open for you. We’re in the backyard.”

I close the gate firmly behind me and head up the path, stepping into the empty hallway. The house is quiet-he must have unlocked the door with his phone. These Greenwood Hills houses and all their security protocols.

“Ethan?” I ask, walking through the living room. It’s a mess of toys and games and a giant plush unicorn I haven’t seen before.

I find them outside, by the treehouse. The sight is enough to make me smile. Ethan, lifting Evie up. Haven, leaning out of the treehouse window.

He’s so unbearably attractive right then. Strong arms as he holds his daughter. Thick hair, pushed back from his face. Slightly tan skin. A man who exudes everything a woman might want: stability, strength, competence, humor…

“Bella!” Evie calls. She wriggles out of Ethan’s arms and comes barreling toward me. “I heard you have muffins!”

“I do.” I crouch down and open the container. “Do you want one?”

“Yeees.”

I put the lid back on playfully as she reaches for one, and she giggles. “Have you had dinner first?”

“Yes, we’ve eaten,” she says. “Chicken nuggets.”

“Chicken nuggets?” I glance past her to where Ethan is trying to coax Haven out of the tree. Maria must have the evening off.

She manages to grab one of the muffins and darts back, her blonde ponytails swinging. “Got it!”

“Yes you did. You have to tell me what you think, too. Do you like chocolate?”

“I love it.”

Behind her, a sudden wail rings out. Haven is lying on the ground by the treehouse, Ethan beside her. “Haven? Honey?”

Things move very quickly after that. He carries her inside, telling me that she might have broken her wrist, that we need to go to the hospital.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask. “Do you want me to come? To stay here with Evie?”

Ethan hovers by the kitchen island, one hand on Haven’s back as she cries into his shoulder. Evie stares at her father and crying sister with round eyes.

“Haven’s upset,” she tells me quietly. I wrap my arm around her and she leans into the touch.

“Come with me,” Ethan says. “Please.”

“Absolutely.”

The following minutes are an exercise in careful, diligent patience. Putting the shoes on Evie. Grabbing her toy elephant-he has to come too. Where are we going? The hospital. Is Haven going to die? What? No, absolutely not. She might just have a sprain. Okay. Can I have ice cream? No, not right now. But can I bring my muffin? Yes.

By the time Ethan backs out of the driveway, the kids buckled in and their backpacks in my arms, I feel sweaty.

Haven’s crying has become softer now.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asks, looking at her through the rearview window.

She shakes her head.

“Of course not, honey,” he says. Everything about him-from his voice to his hands on the steering wheel-radiates quiet confidence. “But the pain won’t last forever. And you might even get one of those cool casts, like your friend Kevin, remember?”

Haven nods miserably. “It was green,” she murmurs. “I don’t want a green cast.”

“You can have any color you want,” Ethan promises.

From her car seat, Evie starts suggesting all the colors in the rainbow, much to Haven’s distraction. By the time we arrive at the nearest clinic, she’s settled on either a soft purple or a pastel pink. That’s if she needs a cast at all.

Ethan parks and we head into the private clinic, all four of us. The receptionist gives a short, professional nod as soon as Ethan says his name and pushes his card over the counter.

“Come with me,” she says, smiling down at Haven. “We’ll get you X-rayed and looked at right away.”

Halfway down the corridor, Evie decides that a fake planter is more important, and I scoop her up in my arms, putting her on my hip. She immediately starts playing with my hair instead.

“Pretty,” she tells me, her voice far away. She’s looking at the approaching doctor.

Ethan turns to me. “I think it might be best if Haven and I do this part alone. Is that okay?”

“We’ll be out here,” I tell him. “Won’t we, Evie? There’s a playroom here.”

His exhale is one of gratitude, and then he disappears into the treatment room with a miserable Haven.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Evie and I stay occupied, but it’s hard not to let my mind wander to that room. Evie asking questions I can’t answer doesn’t help, either.

“Will Haven get a cast?” She grabs a few plastic figurines, setting them down decisively on the table in front of me.

“I’m not sure. Maybe. Where was Maria tonight?”

“In town.” She hands me a small, plastic dog. “This is you.”

“This is me?” I turn the dog over, a tiny Dalmatian. “And who are you?”

She holds up a little firefighter. “Ah,” I say. “Good choice.”

We play for a little while, Evie completely lost in the imaginary world. I’m woof, woofing, when Ethan and Haven finally come down the hallway to join us.

Her arm is in a cast, Ethan’s hand on her shoulder.

“Look,” she tells us, holding up her arm.

“Purple!” Evie exclaims.

“How are you feeling?”

Haven gives me a small nod. “Okay, sort of.”

“She’s been given painkillers,” Ethan says, smoothing his hand over her hair. “You don’t hurt anymore, do you?”