Page 155 of Pucking Daddy

“Is that all I am to you now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

Zara snorts.

I set Lily down, shaking my head. “Kitchen. Now. Before you stage a rebellion.”

She runs ahead without another word.

I follow at a slower pace, my gaze drifting to Zara as I step into the kitchen.

“You’re back early,” she says.

“Wrapped up faster than expected.”

Her eyes search mine. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, stepping closer. “Better than okay.”

She studies me for half a second longer, then nods.

The rest of the evening settles into something that feels… easy.

Dinner happens in that chaotic, half-organized way that comes with Lily talking non-stop about something that happened at the playground.

Zara listens like it’s the most important story in the world. I sit there, watching both of them more than I probably should.

By the time Lily starts rubbing her eyes, the energy shifts.

“Bed,” I say.

“No,” she says immediately.

“Yes.”

“Five more minutes.”

“Two.”

She considers that. “Three.”

I glance at Zara.

Zara shrugs, clearly amused. “Three seems fair.”

“Three,” I agree.

Lily grins like she just won a major negotiation.

Three minutes later, I carry her down the hallway anyway.

She’s half-asleep already, her head tucked against my shoulder, her small hand fisted in my shirt.

I settle her into bed, pulling the blanket up and smoothing her hair back from her face.

“You staying?” she murmurs, barely awake.

“Always,” I say quietly.