Page 130 of Double Fault

Sabrina notices my hesitation, her face falling, and steps carefully out of my hold, averting her gaze.

Silently, I curse myself. For all the care and concern I have for my daughter’s feelings, I’ve unintentionally hurt Sabrina’s.

Jesus, I suck at this.

“I think that’s enough for today,” she says, bending at the waist and picking up the racket.

Shit.

Without allowing myself the chance to overthink my actions, I grasp her wrist and pull her to me.

“Wha—” is all she gets out before we collide and I lower my mouth to hers.

The kiss is too short, and I’m left wanting so much more.

“What was that for?” she asks, palm against my heart.

I press my forehead to hers. “I’m far from perfect, and all this is new to me. I don’t know how to navigate all of this while protecting Maddie’s heart, but I don’t want you to think that you’re not important to me.”

Lips pressed into a line, she studies me, her eyes going misty. “I don’t… I’ve never been important to the people who should have cared most about me.” She sniffles. “That’s all I want—to be treated like I matter.”

I hold her gaze, hoping she can see the sincerity in my expression. “You matter to me.”

She has no idea how special she is. In a matter of months and without trying, she’s thawed my grumpy bastard heart and helped my grieving daughter find happiness again.

“Am I?” Her tone is soft and full of vulnerability.

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

Behind me, approaching footsteps have us both turning.

Maddie skids to a stop in front of us. “Can we get ice cream?”

I can’t help but laugh. Here I was worried about how she’d react if she saw me kissing her nanny, and all she cares about ice cream.

“Yeah, Mads.” I ruffle her hair. “Let’s get ice cream.”

With a joyful shout, she darts toward Fisher. “Uncle Fisher, we’re going to get ice cream.”

She takes his hand, and without turning back, she drags him toward the court’s exit.

“That kid,” I mutter, shaking my head. “She knows how to play me.”

Laughing, Sabrina collects a stray ball, then pops back up. “No, you just want her to be happy, so you say yes to everything she asks for.”

I humph. “Are you saying I spoil her?”

She shrugs and absentmindedly rubs at her leg.

My heart sinks. Shit. Feeling awful, I make a mental note to snag the arnica gel from my bag and apply it to her calf.

“Some might call it that,” she says. “But I think you just love her and feel bad that you can’t always be around.”

“I do,” I admit. “I hate that I can’t be there for her all the time. I wonder every day if I’m making the right choice by continuing to play tennis.”

“You are. I promise,” Sabrina assures me. “Maddie still has you and Fisher and Ebba.”

“And you,” I add.

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