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But he’d also learned that his kid was a messy sleeper. She tossed and turned and kicked and sometimes talked in her sleep.
For the sake of both their sanities, he’d learned that keeping her sleeping in her own bed was the best course of action.
And truth be told, he probably should have insisted now, because she was wriggling under the covers like a damn snake in an attempt to get comfortable. He lay back, closing his eyes, praying to the god of parental sleep that he could have at least another half hour.
“Daddy?”
Okay, so the god of parental sleep didn’t exist.
“Yeah?” He didn’t open his eyelids this time. He wasn’t sure he could.
“I can’t wait for your and Uncle Marley’s birthday party.”
“It’s not a party. Just a cookout. No clowns or party games.” Thankfully.
“It is so a party. Grammy said so.” There was a pout in Delilah’s voice. “I can’t wait to see everybody.”
“Uhuh.”
“And Cassie is coming. I love Cassie.”
His lips twitched. “Yeah, I know.”
“Do you think she’ll do my hair if I ask her?”
He groaned. “Not if you don’t sleep.”
There was silence for a moment. But then it was cruelly broken again. “What if I can’t sleep?”
“Huh?”
“If I can’t sleep does that mean she won’t do it?” Delilah persisted. “It’s not fair. I can’t help not sleeping.”
Oh holy hell. He turned onto his side and opened his eyes, almost jumping out of bed because his daughter’s face was in extreme damn close up.
“When did you move?” he asked groggily. She was staring at him like he was some kind of ogre.
“I don’t know. But what about my hair?”
“Your hair will be fine. I promise. Now go to sleep.”
She huffed and shuffled back across the mattress. Finally. He let his eyes close and blew out a mouthful of air.
“Do you love Cassie?” Delilah asked.
For the love of god. He opened his eyes again. “What?” he asked, stalling for time as much as anything else.
“Do you love her? I do.”
This wasn’t exactly the way he’d hoped to spend his birthday morning. And yeah, he’d talked to Cassie about telling Delilah about them, but he hadn’t planned to do it this minute. Next week, maybe. When he and his kid had a quiet minute that didn’t involve his parents or her dancing or him trying to get some goddamned sleep.
“Cassie’s a good friend,” he finally said.
“Uhuh.” Delilah clearly wasn’t happy with that. And then a sinking feeling came over him. Had somebody said something to her already?
This is a small town. Ugh, his brother was right.
And he obviously wasn’t getting any more sleep this morning.
