“Daddy,” Milli whispers as she climbs into my lap. “Look, our mom is dancing with another uncle. Go hit him.”
“Milli, I don’t fight with men who dance with women. Besides, she isn’t ‘our’ mom.”
“Then let her be!” she says. “I’ll write a new letter to Santa tonight. Let him take the dollhouse and make Eika my new mom.”
I roll my eyes and try not to growl with anger. How do I convince her? How—fuck—do I convince myself now that I don’t want her?
In the morning, Erika Coleman annoyed me. In the evening, she drew me in. And now I want her so badly it makes my teeth grind. It’s some abnormal reaction of the body. But it’s her fault, all of it. Because she kept throwing these meaningful looks at me. Smiling at other men, dancing, showing off her stockings. Damn Erika!
“A somewhat illogical heroine, a pilot hopelessly in love, and a funny little girl.
No drama! A light Christmas story.”