Page 52 of Pucking Daddy

“Mm-hmm.” She swings our joined hands between us. “Did you?”

I hesitate for half a second.

“Busy,” I say finally.

“That means yes or no?”

I smile slightly. “That means complicated.”

She considers that like it’s a serious concept.

“Daddy says complicated a lot,” she informs me.

Hmm.

We walk a little farther in comfortable silence before she glances up at me again.

“Are you gonna stay?” she asks suddenly.

The question hits me sideways.

“Stay?”

“Yeah. Here.” She gestures vaguely. “With us.”

My chest tightens.

“I… I work here, sweetheart,” I say carefully. “So yes, I’m staying.”

“But like… staying staying.”

Oh.

Oh.

I swallow.

“Why are you asking?” I say gently.

She shrugs, kicking a small stone along the sidewalk.

“I just like you,” she says simply. “And Daddy—”

She stops.

“What about Daddy?” I prompt.

She looks up at me, her expression unusually serious.

“He needs someone,” she says.

My breath catches.

“Someone?” I repeat.

“Yeah.” She nods like this is obvious. “He’s always working or thinking or doing serious face.” She scrunches her nose to demonstrate, and I almost laugh despite the way my chest feels like it’s caving in.

“He doesn’t laugh that much,” she continues. “But he did yesterday.”