Page 35 of Demon Daddy's Hidden Daughter
"You were right about a lot of things." Her voice is deliberately neutral, but her eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes everything below my waist tighten.
This is dangerous territory. Flirtation disguised as friendly conversation, attraction masquerading as innocent teasing. Every word feels loaded with double meaning, every glance a small confession.
I should put distance between us. Should focus entirely on Ava. Should be the responsible adult who doesn't let himself getdistracted by the way water beads on Lenny's skin or the way she moves toward me instead of away.
She needs a friend,I remind myself.
Those words don't deter me. Instead, I find myself moving closer, drawn by some magnetic pull I've stopped pretending I can resist.
"What else was I right about?" The question slips out before I can stop it, low enough that Ava won't hear over her own chattering.
Lenny's smile turns mysterious, almost feline. "Where's the fun in telling you? You'll just get a big head." Something is getting big alright. I should not be thinking like that.
But the way she's looking at me… I'm drowning in broad daylight, pulled under by amber eyes and soft smiles and the devastating realization that I've never wanted anyone this badly in my entire life.
17
LENNY
The rest of our day at the waterfall passes in a haze of laughter and stolen glances. Rhyen builds elaborate stone towers with Ava while I float in the deeper section, letting the cold water numb my thoughts. But every time I surface, I catch him watching me with that same intense look that makes my stomach flutter and my skin feel too warm despite the mountain water.
Not that I mind. I can't stop staring at him, either. Rhyen, shirtless with water dripping down his defined torso, is a sight to behold.
By the time we spread our picnic blanket on a patch of soft moss overlooking the falls, the sun has climbed high enough to chase away the morning chill. I've packed simple fare—bread, cheese, dried fruit, and sweet cakes that Ava devours with messy enthusiasm. She chatters between bites, recounting every moment of our swim as if we weren't there to witness it ourselves.
"And then Rhyen dove under the water like a sea dragon, and I thought he'd disappeared forever, but then he came upright next to us and scared me!" She waves a piece of bread for emphasis, crumbs scattering across the blanket.
"I did warn you I was going under," Rhyen points out, his voice warm with amusement. He's put his shirt back on, but it clings to his still-damp skin in ways that make it hard for me to focus on the conversation.
"But you didn't say you were going to pop up like that." Ava abandons her bread to crawl over to him, settling against his side with the casual trust that still takes my breath away. "Next time, warn me better."
"I'll be more specific in my warnings," he promises solemnly, and she beams at him like he's just sworn a sacred oath.
I watch them together—this massive, scarred warrior and my tiny daughter—and something in my chest grows so tight it's hard to breathe. The way he adjusts his position so she's more comfortable. The patience in his voice when she interrupts him mid-sentence to point out a thalivern dancing over the water. The gentle way he brushes crumbs from her cheek.
No one has ever loved her like this except me. No one has ever treated her like she's precious instead of dangerous.
"Mama, are you crying?" Ava's concerned voice snaps me back to the present.
I swipe quickly at my eyes, forcing a smile. "Just happy tears, little star. I'm having a wonderful time."
Rhyen's gaze finds mine across the blanket, and the understanding in his celestial blue eyes nearly undoes me all over again. He sees everything—my gratitude, my fear, my desperate hope that this isn't all temporary. That maybe, somehow, we get to keep this.
"Good," Ava declares, apparently satisfied with my explanation. She yawns widely, the excitement of the day finally catching up with her. "Can we come back tomorrow?"
"Maybe not tomorrow," I tell her, smoothing her dark curls. "But we can definitely come back."
She curls closer to Rhyen, her eyelids growing heavy in the warm afternoon sun. Within minutes, her breathing evens out into the deep rhythm of sleep, one small hand fisted against his chest.
He doesn't move. Doesn't try to shift her to a more comfortable position. Just sits perfectly still, one large hand resting protectively on her back, and lets her sleep against his chest like it's the most natural thing in the world. Even when we decide to pack it up, he's careful to not move her too much as he stands, keeping her against his chest.
The walk home is quiet except for the soft sounds of the forest around us. Rhyen carries Ava the entire way, her small frame dwarfed against his broad chest, her feet barely reaching past his ribs. She doesn't stir once, completely trusting in his strength to keep her safe.
I carry the picnic basket and try not to stare at the picture they make together. Try not to let myself think about how right it looks, how perfectly they fit. Try not to imagine a future where this is just another ordinary day instead of a precious gift that could be taken away at any moment.
I like that Ava and Rhyen get along so well. But those fantasies tend to run away when it comes to me and him, and I can't let it.
The house comes into view as the sun begins its descent toward the mountains, casting everything in golden light. Lira meets us at the door, taking one look at our sleepy child and immediately moving to help.
