From the moment she stepped into the lobby, Morrison's eyes found her—instantly, unexplainably.
He didn't even know why. She wasn't dressed to stand out. A soft blue-gray chiffon dress, modest in both color and cut, yet somehow, on her, it looked... poised. Serene. Effortlessly composed.
Monna, on the other hand, was still nestled against his chest, eyes wide with surprise and—now—opportunity. He hadpulled her in first, after all. Of course she would make the most of it, curling her arms around his waist and leaning into him, content to play the part.
But the second she noticed his gaze glued to a distant figure—the little girl in the soft dress—she let go.
With the grace of a woman who'd been through this before, she stepped back, folding her arms and tilting her head up to study him, a teasing smile dancing on her lips.
"No wonder you've always brushed me off," she said, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Turns out you're into fresh-faced little girls, huh?"
