Page 32 of Wishing Hearts

A little smile sneaks onto my lips. “Yeah, I think so.”

Winnie hums and then unbuckles her seatbelt. “We’ll see.”

Oh boy.

Winnie rushes inside the house, promptly tearing all of the cushions off the couches in the living room to build a fort, and Tigger appears in front of my feet, stubby tail wiggling in excitement. I greet my dog before letting her out into the backyard, and then I head into the kitchen to start dinner. My gut twists a little as I think about Sam arriving.

What will he think? What will he say? Will he turn right back around and leave once he finds out I’m a single dad with a perpetually messy house and an even messier life?

Am I making a mistake?

Chapter 10

Sammy

As I take the short stone walkway up to Harrison’s front door, my stomach somersaults. I haven’t been this nervously excited for a date since…well, I don’t know when. It’s been so long.

In fact, I haven’t been on a real date in over six months. Hooked up a few times, sure. But it’s not remotely the same thing. And while yes, I absolutely want to see the man inside this house spread out naked across his bed, I also want to know him. I have since the moment he started venting his insecurities at that little green rental house in Plum Valley.

Do you know how many guys open up like that? How many have the ability to get vulnerable with a veritable stranger? The list is damn near zero in my experience.

But Harrison did.

For whatever reason, Harrison trusted me to listen when he needed to let off some steam. And yeah, maybe it was because he thought I was a safe bet. Someone he wouldn’t see again after last week. But the ability to be unguarded is a rare quality in a man.

Harrison is a rare man, I can tell.

I’d be honored to share his bed. And a little sliver of space inside that busy head of his, if he’d let me.

When I knock on the door—using the big gold knocker shaped like a lion—it takes maybe fifteen seconds before Harrison appears. When he does, he looks much stiffer than I’m expecting. The tense kind of stiff. Not the just-been-kissed-behind-work kind.

“Hey,” I greet, offering Harrison a wide smile.

“Hi,” he replies, one hand on the door but making no move to let me in.

I hold up the grocery bag with the cake he requested. “Brought the goods.”

That gets me a nervous huff of laughter, and he finally steps back.

“How’re you doin’?” I ask, eyes quickly sweeping the entrance to his home. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but… Woah.” I eye the towering construction of cushions and sheets inside Harrison’s living room with some confusion. The…fort?…spans a good ten feet wide, but even more surprising than the existence of a fort in Harrison’s house in the first place is the small blonde head that pops suddenly out of it. “Oh, fff—udge.”

I barely manage to correct my slip, and the small blonde human narrows their eyes my way before disappearing. I swing my gaze to Harrison, but he’s avoiding eye contact and looking sheepish.

“Winnie,” he calls softly. “Would you come out, please?”

The blonde slowly reappears, exiting the fort and walking our way. An orange-and-white dog who must be Tigger follows, slipping past the sheet that denotes the front of the fort and trotting after the small human.

“Uh, Sam,” Harrison says, scrubbing the back of his neck before blowing out a breath. When the tiny blonde stops at his side, he finally meets my eye. “This is Winnie, my daughter.”

Oh, wow.

“You can call me Winifred,” she says primly, her pale blue eyes meeting mine. She looks so much like Harrison, down to the straw-blonde hair and the way her jaw is set, as if she’s forcing a bit of stoicism into her exterior.

“Nice to meet you, Winifred,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Sammy.”

“I’ll call you Sam,” she decides, accepting my handshake. Her hand is petite and warm inside my own, and something inside my chest cracks. A tiny fault line.

She’s just like her father.

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