Page 122 of Only for Love

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Grayson

Another new day in my new life, and it’s pretty effin’ sweet. I’m dribbling a pink bouncy ball in the living room. Cally is hiding behind the couch, completely sure that I cannot see her and giggling up a storm. “Where she’d go? Anyone see Cally Bear?”

“Rwar!” She roars her loudest, and damn cutest, bear growl.

I spin the opposite direction. “She’s over here?”

Giggle. Squeak. Giggle.

Jumping to the TV, I look around the cable boxes and pretend she’s slipped behind the flat screen, all the time dribbling the ball and bouncing it between my legs as I turn—which always makes her squeal louder. “Where’d she go? Cally Bear?”

Giggle. Squeal! Giggle.

I spin. “Ah, there she is!” And I bound across the living room in two strides, throwing myself onto the couch and tapping her head with the pink ball that I have palmed in one hand. “Gotcha, kid.”

“Got me! Got me, got me.” She takes off and runs around the room after snagging the ball from me, and then she circles and dives onto the couch.

I grab her up, hold her in the air, and her legs plank and her arms are flying.

“Whee,” she screams. “Highwer!”

Tipping her to the side, then bringing her back up, I’m dropping airplane noises like I was meant to do this. Because I was.

She tosses her head back, laughing as I land “the plane” on my chest, and she bounces, begging for more. But Emma’s sleeping in, and I’m sure that too much more will wake her.

“How about this? You hungry?”

Her eyes go wide and her head nods wildly.

“You already had breakfast though.” I pretend to shake her little shoulders. “Are you sure there’s room in that belly?”

“Yeah!”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe we make room.” I tickle her, and she laughs so hard I’m concerned she might pee. “Alright.”

I jump up, tucking her under one arm. Her legs bicycle in the air as if she’s taking her trike down a racetrack.

“Let’s see what we can do for a mid-morning snack.” I put her on the kitchen counter and take a step back, analyzing Cally’s perch on the edge. Nope, that has disaster written all over it—broken bones, missing teeth. Emma would kick my ass.

“Jump on.” I turn and hook her onto my back. She climbs up me like a tree, locking her arms around my neck, and we head to the cabinet.

Snacks. What to do for a fun snack? Easy—the girl likes pancakes. She flipped her lid for syrup with Cherry, so… here we go. I grab some granola with M&Ms in it and some vanilla extract, then I hit the fridge for… chocolate syrup.

“What do you think, kiddo?”

“Good!”

On my way to the pantry, I grab the bananas. Surely there’s got to be pancake batter in Emma’s kitchen, right?

I search cabinet after cabinet. What the double deuce—no pancake batter? Big fail.Damn.“No pancakes. Time to regroup.”

Cally’s hand extends and points to a container. I grab whatever it is, hoping I can do something fun for a snack and—I read the label. “Add water and shake.”Well, alright.My girl found me pancake batter. “We’re a go for pancakes.”

“Go!”

I head back to the counter, where my pile of extra ingredients sits, and I search every single cabinet and drawer for a measuring cup, finally finding it in the last one. Doors are open, and things are reshuffled. Cally laughs in my ear, and I act as if we’re not going to survive if we don’t make pancakes. She pushes me to pull it together, and I can see myself in her as she issues a strategy to get what she wants.

---