Page 85 of Daddy's Heart

“It’s too hot,” she argued. He put his hand beneath the stream.

“No, it’s not. You’re not taking a cold shower. You need warm water.”

“How do you know what I need?” she shot at him.

He raised an eyebrow and took a steady breath in.

“I’m not sure what’s bothering you, Sammy, but I’m not taking your attitude anymore. Either act like a big girl and tell me what’s wrong so I can help, or keep acting like a baby and I’ll start treating you like one.”

Her throat constricted as she thought over his words for a moment.

“With what? That stupid gag?”

“For starters. But it only takes a five-minute trip to the corner store to grab a package of diapers and some bottles.”

Her face blanched properly.

“I—you—oh…” She twisted her lips one way, then the other. “Can I take my shower alone?” She lowered her gaze.

He let out a sigh. “When you’re done, you’re going to eat your breakfast and you’re going to tell me what’s bothering you. Understood?” He pinned her with a hot glare. She wasn’t wiggling her way out of the conversation this time.

“I will.” She nodded. “It’s time we talked anyway.” The weight of the words and depths of the sadness laced into them sank his heart to his stomach.

“I’ll be right out here if you need me,” he said softly, then pulled the shower curtain back in place to give her some privacy.

Leaning against the sink, he listened as she moved around the shower. The little gasps of pain when she bent over for the soap tore at him, but he didn’t intervene. His little girl had moved away from him, and he wouldn’t force her back until she was ready.

“You okay?” he asked when she cursed for the third time.

“Yeah,” she huffed. “Washing my hair.”

He bit his tongue to keep from demanding she let him help. She was strong—it was one of the things he loved about her—but she was stubborn. If she’d just let him help, she wouldn’t have to lift her arms over her head and make more pain for herself.

The water cut off, and he stood silently on the outside, listening to her take calming breaths. His little girl was hurting.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, grabbing a towel from the wall. He yanked the curtain back. “I’m helping you.” He reached inside the shower, wrapping his arm around her waist, and carefully hoisted her out.

“Shit!” She gasped when he put her on her feet. “Fuck.”

“I know it hurts, baby.” His chest heavy with her pain. “Just stand still and I’ll dry you off.” He maneuvered to her back and wrapped the towel around her hair, squeezing as much water as he could from the locks. Bending over to put her hair up in that towel twist women did wouldn’t be happening for her.

“I can do it.” She tried to shove him away, but he ignored the motions.

“I want to know what’s going on, little girl. And as soon as I get your jammies back on you, you’re going to tell me.”

“I don’t need myjammies.” Her tone bordered on bitter, making him pause.

“What do you need then, Samantha?” He stood to his full height and stepped in front of her.

She tilted her head back, her wary gaze wandering up to his.

“I need to get dressed. I have an apartment viewing this afternoon, and I don’t want to miss it.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Excuse me?” The force of her words pushed him back a step.

She took the towel from his grip and wrapped it around her body. “I got the job at the library.”

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