Page 19 of New Year's Day

“Uh, sure.” I swallow hard, hating the thought of her being so grown up. She’s still my baby. My first child. My daughter. “Just…don’t give your kisses away too easily.”

She frowns. “Doesn’t everyone need a kiss?”

I say nothing, unsure of how to explain myself. She’s unreasonable a lot of the time but she’s still a toddler so it’s expected. She’s also naturally fiery and hot headed—Wren calls that the Lancaster in her.

She’s right. I can’t deny it.

“Kisses are the best. They’re so pretty.” She turns toward the art, a little sigh escaping her. “I want it.”

“Want what?”

“Kisses.” She turns a toothy grin on me. “Lots of them.”

Shit.

I’m in trouble.

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