Page 41 of Lost and Lassoed

Because, surprisingly, Teddy Andersen was turning out to be a damn good thing.

Chapter 20

Gus

When I got home from work the next day, I found Riley and Teddy lying in the sun on the back porch. I’d noticed that they liked to do that—just bask in the heat at the end of the day. Honestly, I didn’t think they ever spent any time indoors, and that was fine with me. I’d rather be outside than inside any day of the week, and if Riley picked that up from me, at least I gave her one good quality.

Teddy’s skin had gotten a few shades darker since she’d been here. Maybe it was her copper hair, but I hadn’t thought she’d tan well. The golden glow that was coming off her now proved me wrong on that, though.

I wondered whether I could taste the sun on her skin.Jesus, Gus. Do you think you’re a poet? Check yourself.

The longer Teddy was here, the less control I had over my thoughts about her. She was on my mind all the time now.

“Hey,” I called from the back door, announcing my presence. Riley ran to me and threw her little body right into my arms. God, I’d never get sick of that. I hoped she’d do it forever.

Teddy waved at me without looking back, and it annoyed me for some reason.

“What did you get up to today, Sunshine?” I asked Riley.

“We had a picnic,” Riley said excitedly.

“Here?” I asked.

“No, we walked for a long time.” To Riley, “a long time” could mean anywhere from five minutes to an hour. She wasn’t the most patient kid. “And then we saw a butterfly, and so we followed it to our picnic spot.”

“You followed a butterfly to a picnic spot?” I asked.

“Don’t ruin the magic, August,” Teddy piped up.

“That sounds like a good day,” I said.

“And now we’re getting our vitamin D,” Riley said. “It’s good for you. Do you need some?”

“I think I’m all good,” I said. “But you keep at it. I’ll come get you when dinner is ready. Enjoy your vitamin D, Teddy,” I called.

“I prefer the other kind, but the sun will do,” she called back. I made a choking noise, which Teddy must’ve heard, because she said, “Get your mind out of the gutter, Gus. There’s a child present.”

“What’s she talking about, Dad?” Riley said.

“Nothing,” I said as I set her down. “She’s just being Teddy.”

—

Later that night, Riley said, “I want to play a game.”

I looked at the clock. “It’s almost your bedtime, Sunshine.”

“Please,” Riley said sweetly. Little shit knew I was a sucker. “Teddy wants to play too.”

I looked at Teddy, who put her arms up as if to say “I have nothing to do with this.”

“Riley,” I said firmly, “you can’t use Teddy to get what you want.”

My daughter crossed her arms and gave me a look that was so annoyed and so fucking adorable at the same time. “How do I get it, then?”

“Ask nicely,” I said. I glanced at Teddy, who was watching this exchange with an amused smile.

Riley let out an annoyed huff, and for a second, I forgot she was six years old. “Can we please play a game?”

---