The woman smiled. And that’s when I realized exactly who she was. Catherine Celia. CC. Holy hell. The last time I’d seen CC for more than five minutes, she’d been home on some breakfrom college, hair in a messy bun, wearing sweats, rushing through Holland’s kitchen with a textbook under one arm and a granola bar in her mouth. Before that, she’d been a teenager babysitting Isla, all long limbs and quick smiles, helping my little girl build block towers on Cole and Holland’s living room floor. Now, if my math was serving me right, she had to be about twenty-four. And very much not a teenager. My beer went down wrong. I coughed hard, turning slightly as it burned its way into my lungs.
Max slapped me on the back. “You good, old man?”
I waved him off, still coughing. “Fine.”
CC’s eyes found mine from across the patio. Her smile widened. “Hunter Russell,” she said, coming toward me like she hadn’t just knocked the air clean out of my chest. “Wow. It’s been forever. How is it that I see Isla more than I see you?”
Her voice was smoother than I remembered. Lower. Still bright, but not girlish anymore.
I cleared my throat. “CC. Hey.”
She leaned in and hugged me. It was quick. Friendly. Normal. It still hit me like a body check. She smelled like vanilla, sunscreen, and something warm I didn’t have a name for. When she pulled back, her eyes flicked over my face.
“You look exactly the same,” she said.
“That’s because I moisturize,” I joked. Yup. Another bad joke.
Isla came running up then, wet hair already stuck to her cheeks. “Dad! Mila says they have diving rings.”
“Then I guess your day is made,” I said.
“CC!” Isla cheered, throwing herself at her.
“Isla, let go of CC. You’re getting her all wet,” I said.
“Oops.” Isla took a step back.
“No, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind,” CC replied.
“See, Dad?” Isla said, glaring at me. “CC is like my big sister too.”
“What?” I asked wide eyed.
“It’s a long story,” CC said.
“Okay,” I said slowly because the girls were smiling. Maybe it was some kind of inside joke?
“I asked CC to be my mommy, but she said she can only be my big sister,” Isla explained.
I felt my eyes widen. “Bug, that’s…”
“Don’t worry, we figured it all out,” CC said quickly. “We’re close, and I love Isla, so she is like my little sister.”
“Okay. Thanks?” I was so embarrassed. I didn’t have something better to say.
“Bug, go back to playing with your friends,” I said.
“Okay, Daddy,” she replied, then ran off.
“Sorry about that,” I said to CC.
“No big deal,” she said with a laugh.
I found myself staring. Which was a problem. A big one. Cole was my coach and my friend. Holland was one of the closest things Isla and I had to family in Dallas. CC was their daughter. Their daughter who used to babysit my kid. Their daughter who had been off building a life, grinding through seven years of school, undergrad in Pittsburgh and now medical school here in Dallas. She was not someone I got to look at like that. Not even for half a second.
“CC!” a voice shouted.
Max shoved his beer into my hand before I could stop him and jogged past me. CC turned just in time for him to scoop her off her feet. She shrieked, laughing, as Max lifted her into the air and spun her around.