Page 4 of Sexy Claus

She was right, but damned if he didn’t want to bundle her up and keep her safe like he had when she was a baby.

He poked at his eggs and tried for a more diplomatic approach. “I just wondered who you were with. We haven’t gone out to eat since…you know, and—”

“You’re allowed to say it. The car accident.” Brenna leveled a frown at him. “Repeat after me.The car accident.I’m not going to freak out if you call it what it was.”

His insides scrambled worse than his breakfast. That day, the call, the waiting to know the extent of her injuries—it had been the worst experience of his life.

He swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. “The…car…accident.”

His voice cracked over the words, much like his heart had cracked open when he hadn’t known if his little girl would live or die. He would’ve traded places with her in an instant.

The soft brush of her fingertips on his clenched fist brought him back from the cliff. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault, especially notyours. Shit happens sometimes, and you can’t protect me from everything. Well, you could, but not being able to do anything would drive me bananas. Life is for living. That’s the mantra of my support group.”

Instead of gathering her in his arms and never letting her go, he wrapped his much bigger hand around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know. I’m just having a tough time accepting that you’re all grown up and you want to live on your own again, especially when I can make all the adjustments you need. I like having you here and taking care of you.”

“I know, and I love you for it.” She pulled her hand away and fiddled with the remains of her toast. “If it’ll make you feel better, I met this very kind woman when I was on my way home from the basketball game. And before you say anything, I’m not mad about my friends wanting to sit up in the bleachers where they could see the game. They offered to stay on the floor with me. I wasn’t super comfortable about being there with so many people anyway, so I said I just wanted to say hi and that you were waiting for me outside. It was easier, and that’s what felt best at the moment.”

He fought a grunt and lost. Her so-called friends should’ve seen how uncomfortable she was. “So, who was this lady you met?”

She cradled her nearly empty mug in her palms and sipped her doctored coffee. “One of my wheels dropped into a hole when I was crossing the street and she stopped to help me. She was waiting at the light and, like, actually parked her car in the middle of the road, turned on the flashers, and got out. She didn’t feel sorry for me, unlike most people who think they’re being helpful, and she showed me how to get unstuck. Then she invited me to Lorenzo’s for pizza. God, she taught me more about how to navigate an unaccommodating world in less than an hour than I learned in a month with the guy who left me highand dry. She’s an occupational therapist and is in town for the holidays. Until sometime in January. Maybe longer. I’m going to call her this afternoon about scheduling some sessions. See? I’m being proactive.”

“Is she licensed? We’ll… You’ll need to find out what—”

“Dad. You’re doing it again.” Setting down her mug, Brenna sighed. “It’s already handled. She’s in the process of moving, so she isn’t working right now, but she’s going to check into a temporary position with the same clinic my last OT worked for. She mentioned a couple other options too. I like her a lot, and I’m hoping I can convince her to stay for a while.”

Although the woman would have to prove herself to him, Sven gave his daughter the benefit of the doubt. She was smart and independent, and he had no right to hold her back, even if it ate at his soul to adopt a hands-off approach to her care. “Okay. Do you need anything before I head over to Grandma and Grandpa’s to fix the flashing around the chimney?”

“Nope.” She rolled back from the table with her breakfast dishes in her lap. “I have a work project due next week, so I’m just hanging out in your office this morning.”

“It’s your office too, for as long as you want it.” Yes, his comment probably rubbed her the wrong way, but he hated the thought of her living by herself again.

Cut the bullshit. You’re the one who doesn’t like living alone.

She opened the dishwasher and strained to reach the faucet to rinse her plate.

Resisting the urge to turn on the water took planting his work boots on the floor, pressing his ass to his seat, and focusing on not gripping his own dish hard enough to break it. His jaw ached and his ears rang by the time the clink of her mug, fork, and plate told him she’d finished her task at the dishwasher.

Brenna wheeled to the table and picked up her mug. “I can’t wait to have an accessible kitchen. Do you think the fundraiserwill make enough money for the renovations to a house or apartment?”

Despite his feelings about her moving out again, he nodded. “I’ll make it happen if that’s what you want. Even if I have to dress up as Santa Claus myself.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Mrs. Barber emailed me this morning. Her brother had to have emergency gall bladder surgery last night, so he isn’t available this year. Should I tell her you’re willing to fill in?”

He gave a curt nod, even though the thought of wearing a red suit and socializing was near the top of the list of things he’d rather not do. “For you? Yes. But there better be a rule against adults sitting on my lap.”

“If you had a girlfriend, they might back off.”

A shudder rippled through him. “I don’t want or need a girlfriend.”

Laughter echoed through the kitchen as his daughter left him to finish cleaning up.

The single women of Creekside had finally decided to leave him the hell alone since that horrible day eleven months ago. Even a few married ones had propositioned him over the years. If he’d been looking to get laid or married, he would’ve been in heaven. Unfortunately, he preferred the company of his hand to another soul-shattering breakup or an accidental pregnancy with his rebound mistake.

Been there. Done those. Never again.

He didn’t regret being a father, but it hadn’t worked out quite the way he’d hoped. His first and only love was to blame for that.

Maybe not entirely, but I didn’t have a choice.