Page 38 of Wishing Hearts

How? Why this man? Could we work? Is it too much to ask for?

Am I only setting myself up for disappointment?

Shoving every single doubt away and telling them to fuck off for good measure, I grab a hold of what’s in front of me—literally. I run my hands over Sam’s short, sexy hair, wishing, for the briefest of moments, that I could feel it on the insides of my thighs. He hums, as if he knows what I’m thinking, and I damn near whine, desperate for this man to make me feel again.

But I have Winnie’s bedtime to do. And I’m not quite ready for Sam to spend the night. It’s too soon for that.

So, easing back, I force myself to let go of the temptation named Sam, and I blow out a little breath. “I need to…”

He nods, giving my arm a gentle, playful push. “Go on.”

Turning, I head toward the stairs. When I glance back, Sam is plopping onto the couch. Tigger jumps up next to him, and Sam strokes her fur as he coos over my dog.

Winnie is already in her pajamas when I get to her room. She’s lying in bed, flipping through a book, and when I give her door a little rap, she looks up.

“Come on, Pumpkin,” I say. “Teeth and hair.”

She nods, rolling out of bed and following me to the bathroom. After detangling the billion knots in her hair and brushing her teeth, we head back to her bedroom. Winnie already has a stack of three books picked out for me to read, and I huff a little laugh. It’s scary how organized my child can be when it comes to her getting the things she wants.

“Which one first?” I ask, taking a seat at her headboard. She sits beside me.

“Is Sam your boyfriend?” she asks.

Well, shit. Should’ve known that was coming.

“Right now, we’re just friends,” I answer. I know it’s an incomplete truth, but I’m not ready to get Winnie’s hopes up before I know where Sam and I stand. I don’t want her getting attached only for things to end.

Although she never much liked any of my boyfriends in the past. Sam, though. Sam is damn likable.

“Okay,” Winnie says simply before pointing to one of the books.

Conversation over for now, I start to read. Tigger joins us soon enough, like she always does, but it takes all three stories, ten minutes of reassurance that I’m not going anywhere tonight, and another thirty minutes of staying by Winnie’s side before she’s finally asleep. I ease out of her bedroom slowly, avoiding the floorboard that creaks.

Once I’m out the door, leaving it cracked enough for Tigger to get through should she need to, my shoulders relax. When I get downstairs, Sam is right where I left him on the couch. The TV is on, sound low, but he turns it off, angling my way as I approach.

He’s always so…tuned in. Body language open and inviting. Expression welcoming. It makes it easy to take a seat directly beside him, close enough to touch. Sam takes that opportunity, placing his hand gently on my bent knee.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” I say, readying myself for a lengthy apology.

But Sam shakes his head. “D’you always apologize for bein’ a good father?”

Well, shit.

“It’s fine,” Sam goes on. “She’s asleep now?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “It takes a while sometimes. She…she’s scared of me leaving. Scared I’ll be gone when she wakes up.”

Sam’s eyes soften at that.

“It’s part of why we got Tigger in the first place,” I say. “I thought having company at night would help.”

“Does it?” he asks.

“I think so? Sometimes? She doesn’t wake up as much in the middle of the night as she used to. It’s just getting her down that’s hard. And maybe me staying until she’s asleep makes it worse—”

Sam squeezes my knee, gently cutting me off. “No. It makes her feel safe, and that’s most important. She knows her dad will be there when she needs him.”

My eyes sting, and I blink a couple times. “You don’t hate kids,” I state, recalling our conversation at dinner when Sam told Winnie that very thing.

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