Page 32 of Daddy's Heart

He’s cold. Scared. Still wearing his nightshirt.

But alive.

By the time we get him to the ER and finish all the damn paperwork, the sun’s up, and I’ve got a tension headache pounding behind my eyes.

All I want—all I fucking want—is to see Emery. To press my face to her stomach, to smell her skin and let everything else fall away. To assure her I want her and everything that comes with her. Every. Fucking. Bag in her baggage.

But, I need a shower, a few hours to get my head straight about what’s coming next for us. I check my phone and find a single text.

Emery:Let me know everything is okay with the elderly guy. And with you, Daddy.

Me:The elderly guy is fine. Cold and confused, but no harm done. How are you, Babygirl?

Emery:All good, Daddy, just missing you.

Me:Same, baby. I’ll see you real soon.

Emery:Yes you will ;)

That makes me crack a rare smile. What I don’t expect is to pull up to my cabin and see it flickering with soft candlelight.

Her little gray van in my driveway.

It makes me fucking hard seeing it. Like I’m coming home from work and she’s there. Home before me.

Home.

What Ireallydon’t expect is to hearhervoice floating out through the cracked window, singing something soft and low, reminding me of how she stood up for karaoke before her night was interrupted by that fucker with an attitude.

And through the glass?

She’s in my shirt. Just my shirt. Bare legs. Hair down. Swaying slightly as she moves around the kitchen like she belongs there.

My heart goes still.

Because she does. Shedoesbelong there.

She’s done this forme.Set this up. Candles. Music. Herself—wrapped up like a goddamn fever dream in plaid and vulnerability.

No one has ever done anything like this for me.

I take a deep breath of pine forest as I stand on the precipice of what feels like the rest of my life, and then I take the few steps up to the cabin and walk right in. Because if this is forever, then I want all of it.

“Hey,” she says with a smile that slams into me like a semi. “So he’s safe?”

“He’s safe. Cold, confused, but safe.” I take a step forward, zeroing in on her like a man tracking his salvation. “What’s all this?”

“I just…” She glances around the room, nerves fluttering beneath her confidence. “You always take care of everyone else. I thought maybe tonight… I could take care of you.”

It hits me like a punch straight to the ribs.

Because no one takes care of me.

Not since Mom died. Not since Dad checked out. Not since my brothers and I learned to carry the world on our backs with no one watching.

But here she is. Twenty-one. Single mom. Still trying togivewhen no one’s ever really given to her.

“Baby girl,” I groan, my dick already painful and ready.

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