Page 105 of Wishing Hearts

Winnie nods sagely. “We’re best friends, just like in the story.”

My heart warms at that.

“I haven’t read any of those books,” I admit, and both Winnie and Harrison gasp.

“Why not?” Winnie asks, but then she waves her hand. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We’ll fix that.”

“Oh, we will, will we?” I ask, hiding my smile as I take a sip of water.

Winnie nods over and over. “Mhm. Don’t worry, Sam. I’ve got lots of Winnie the Pooh books upstairs. Daddy and I will read them to you.”

I can’t hide my smile this time. “Can’t wait,” I tell her. “So, which character would I be?”

Winnie puts some serious thought into the question, her brows drawn together as she munches on her second piece of garlic bread. I sneak a look at Harrison, and he gives me a smile, bumping his foot into mine.

“It’s too bad you can’t be Pooh Bear,” Winnie finally says.

Because the name’s taken, I guess.

“Yeah?” I ask, curious why she thinks I’m like the infamous bear. “Why would I make a good Pooh?”

“You’re like a hug,” she states, as if those words are simple. As if she didn’t just irrevocably alter part of my being—the part of my heart that has been growing in size just for her.

Harrison squeezes my arm, and I’m grateful for the tether.

“That’s okay, though,” Winnie goes on. “You can be Roo since you have lots of energy.”

“And what about me?” Harrison asks, giving me a much-needed moment to compose myself. “Who would I be?”

“Rabbit, of course,” Winnie answers.

Harrison’s face scrunches. “Oh great. I’m the stick in the mud.”

“No,” his daughter says, rolling her eyes. “You’re the one who looks after the rest.”

And there goes Harrison’s hand again, squeezing my arm tightly. I know how he feels.

I place my hand over his, and the look in his eye when he meets my gaze is one I’m starting to recognize. Parental pride—I think that’s what it is. I see it a lot on Harrison’s face. The love there. The appreciation for what he has. The overwhelming feeling I’m only just starting to get a taste of.

It’s what makes the hard parts worth it; isn’t that what Harrison is always telling me? Because how could you ever regret love?

As the three of us are clearing up the table, Harrison’s phone rings. He wipes his hand dry before fishing it out of his pocket and frowning at the screen.

“Hello?” he answers. “Deb?”

I can’t hear what’s being said on the other end of the line, but Harrison’s face smooths from concern to understanding, and he nods.

“Of course,” he says. “I can be over shortly. Uh-huh. See you soon.”

“Problem?” I ask.

He pockets his phone. “Deborah locked herself out of her house, and I have her spare key. Do you, uh…”

“What is it?” I ask.

Harrison’s gaze shifts to Winnie, who’s parked in a chair near the window, one of her storybooks in her hands. Always reading or running, that one. Harrison lowers his voice a little. “Do you think you could watch Winnie? I could bring her with me, but…” He trails off, shrugging a little, but I hear the unspoken. He’d feel comfortable leaving her with me.

“I’d be happy to watch her,” I say, hooking my hands around his hips and tugging him close. “Thank you,” I add softly.

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