43

I laughed. “Hell no.” There was only a bite of cupcake left, and I took it down, wishing I had brought my milk. “I used a decorator. The same one who did the main house.”

“Ford, it’s stunning.”

The colors in here were much different than in my place. The apartment was all white and tan, airy and light. The decorator had chosen the scheme intentionally, knowing I preferred a woman watching my daughter over a man.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it,” she said, our eyes connecting. “Not like.” Her stare moved to the ceiling, where beams ran across the entire length. “She thought of everything. Important accents that make this small space feel giant and these little touches that soften it.”

“Check out in here.” I walked to the bedroom door, turning on the light, and a chandelier over the bed set the whole room aglow.

“Wow.”

I turned toward her. “Cozy?”

“And, quite honestly, a little romantic.” She headed for the en suite, frozen in the doorway. “You put in a tub? Oh my God, look at the size