Page 11 of Daddy's Heart

He paused.

He’d heard it before, playful and fun—nothing he would think a twenty-five-year-old would be listening to on a Saturday night.

He found her on the couch, asleep. Her thick brown hair had been pulled into pigtails and her makeup had been washed off. She wore a pink night gown with Eeyore painted on the front. On the floor, where her arm had slid off the couch, was a bowl of popcorn half spilled onto the carpet. A bottle of orange soda sat on the coffee table, mostly drank.

Ryder took in the image in front of him. The soft curve of her ass peeking out of the nightgown with her leg pulled up, exposing the gentle flesh. He found the remote for the television and clicked off the DVD player. The case for Inside Out sat on the table beside her soda. She’d most likely fallen asleep during the movie and the DVD looped back to the menu, replaying the theme song over and over again.

He sighed.

Popcorn was all over the floor. Crayons were strewn all over the coffee table next to an adult stress relief coloring book. Several drops of her orange soda had seeped into the page she’d been coloring.

He flipped off the TV and cleaned up the mess on the carpet, scooping the kernels into the bowl. After he brought the bowl and pop into the kitchen, he went back to the living room to rouse the sleeping beauty and get her to her own bed. The couch was comfortable enough, but an overnight stay would lead to a stiff neck.

He stared down at Samantha for a long moment. She was a friend, a houseguest, nothing more. She stirred a bit, jolting him into movement. Waking up to find him gawking at her would probably seem creepy.

With a light shake of her shoulder, he tried to rouse her

“Samantha…Samantha…Samantha?” He couldn’t help but grin when her lips scrunched up and she waved him away.

“I’m sleeping.”

He chuckled. “I know. I thought you’d be more comfortable doing that in your bed.”

She sniffled and burrowed herself deeper into the pillows she’d arranged around herself. He shook his head.

“You can’t sleep here, sweetheart. You’re going to get a kink in your neck.”

She blew out a breath. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know.” He tried to rouse her again, but she let out a contented sigh, stilling him.

His jaw tensed, and he scrubbed his hand over his face.

Fuck it.

He slid his arms beneath her and scooped her up from the couch. Her hands wove around his neck, and she nuzzled into the crook.

He looked down at her sleeping face. With his jaw set, he carried her to the guest bedroom and nudged the door open with his boot.

She’d unpacked. Or, rather, the suitcases had exploded all over the room. She hadn’t hung up most of her clothes but left them in piles on the floor and on top of the dresser. He stepped over a short pile of socks and placed her on the bed. She rolled to her side, facing him, pulled the pillow out from beneath her, and snuggled it.

He shook his head with a smile. Being as gentle as he could, he tugged the blanket from beneath her and managed to get her tucked in without her waking up. Although, he was pretty sure at that point nothing short of a detonation would get her up.

After she was all tucked in, he flipped the light on the nightstand off, bent down, and brushed his fingertips along her forehead.

Forcing himself, he pulled his hand back and turned toward the door.

“G’night, Daddy,” she whispered, then flipped over to her other side.

He froze.

Hard stop.

When his heart thundered back to life, he strode out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Daddy.

Fuck.

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