Page 10 of On the Wild Side

“Yeah, so I thought maybe you had to snuggle with her to make her feel better.”

“No, he didn’t,” I say softly and smile at my baby. “But thank you for thinking of me. You’re very sweet.”

Daisy smiles and drinks her hot chocolate, and I glance over to Brady. Sure enough, those hot hazel eyes are on me, full of questions, but I just shake my head and get back to work.

Brady asks Daisy about school and what she wants for Christmas as I finish breakfast, and I’m happy for the reprieve from any more uncomfortable topics that my precious daughter wants to bring up.

One thing about my girl is, she’s not afraid to speak up. And Ilovethat about her. I envy it sometimes. But I’m also learningthat it might be a little uncomfortable around a man that makes my insides quiver.

“Let’s sit at the table,” I suggest as I make a plate for Daisy and get her settled and then join Brady in the kitchen to make my own breakfast. He puts three pieces of bacon on my plate, and I shake my head. “I don’t usually do the bacon.”

“You don’t likebacon?” He scowls down at me like I just told him that I hate kittens.

“Of course, Ilikeit; I just don’t eat it.” I bite my lip when his eyes narrow.

“She worries about her hips,” Daisy pipes up, and I close my eyes in embarrassment as Brady scoffs.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Eat the bacon, Abs.” His voice is low so only I can hear, and it sends tremors right through me. Actualtremors. “This smells damn good.”

“You said a swear,” Daisy informs him. “A dollar goes into the jar.”

“What jar?” Brady demands, looking around the room.

“It’s on the mantle,” Daisy says, pointing to the living room. “We’re saving up.”

“For what?” he wants to know.

“I don’t know,” she admits with a giggle. “What are we saving up for, Mommy?”

“A rainy day,” I murmur as I take a bite of the bacon and savor the salty taste of it on my tongue. I don’t remember the last time I had a piece. I sit next to Daisy, across from Brady, and watch him inhale the pancakes. “Good?”

“Da-dang good,” he says, catching himself. “You said you do thiseverySunday?”

“Yep.” Daisy takes a bite and hums with happiness. “They’re my favorite.”

“Mine, too,” he says and high-fives my daughter. “You have good taste, Princess.”

“I know.”

When we’re finished eating, Brady helps me clear the table, and then Daisy announces, “You should just live here and be my daddy.”

I blink, and my gaze whips up to him. He’s staring down at a plate, frowning, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s gone pale.

“You know, I should probably head out,” he says quietly and sets the plate back in the sink. He doesn’t meet my gaze as he turns away and gathers his coat and slides his feet into his boots. “Thanks for breakfast, ladies.”

“Daisy, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed.”

“But—”

“No arguing,” I snap back at her and hurry after Brady, who’s already outside and striding to his SUV. “Brady, hold on.”

He’s shaking his head as he opens the door, and I rush over, in mysocks, through the snow and worm my way between the door and the 4Runner so he can’t shut it on me.

“She didn’t mean to upset you,” I say, breathing hard and feeling awful that Daisy’s words are making him run away. “I apologize.”

“No, don’t.” He shakes his head and sighs. “She didn’t do anything wrong. It was just a reminder that I need to watch myself. I can’t let her get too attached to me.”

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