Page 6 of Daddy's Heart

I’m lucky. I’m not rich, but I’m not poor. I’ve made mistakes, but I’m working on building a life that feels authentic and safe. For me and my son.

I cover my face with a hard exhale, then peek through my fingers. The phone is taunting me from the passenger seat.

I reach over. My finger hovers. Then taps.

It barely gets in half a ring before he answers.

“Emery. It’s been twenty-four minutes.”

Not ‘hello’ or ‘what?’. My name and how long I’ve been driving.

He’s a ten but…a bit of a psycho.

“I made it down safe,” I force a weird cheerfulness into my voice as I roll my eyes at the gray fabric ceiling of the minivan.

“Good.” A beat. “How’s the knee feel?”

I glance at the dried blood on my scrubs. “Fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “Take some Tylenol and ice it for thirty minutes before bed.”

“I know how to treat a scrape.”

“I know you do. Do it anyway.”

Silence stretches between us. Long enough for my pulse to start skipping again.

Then he speaks.

“See you tomorrow. Before dark.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Good. Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

He clicks off I’m left sitting in the quiet of my very practical minivan with my pulse in my throat and the terrifying realization that I’m already looking forward to seeing him again.

I don’t know what tomorrow holds.

But I know one thing for sure.

I’m wearing different shoes.

Two

Colt

Iknew her the second I opened the door yesterday and saw her on the path.

Emery fucking Langston.

Four years older and softer in all the places that made a man ache. I hauled her out of a burning house once. Didn’t think I’d ever see her again—not in front of me, not close enough to touch, not looking at me like I was just some wounded mountain hermit she had to patch up.

But there she was.

She didn’t recognize me. She wouldn’t. She’d been barely conscious back then, and I was in full gear, smoke thick enough to choke a god. But I never forgot the weight of her in my arms. Never forgot what it felt like to carry her out of hell.

Last night, after she’d gone, I tried to sleep. Yeah, fuck that. Not a chance I’m going to sleep again unless she’s right there beside me. Not after getting a glimpse of her panties outliningwhat I know is going to be the world’s most addictive fucking pussy.

---