Page 84 of His Greatest Treasure

I lean forward slightly and lower my voice to match hers. “Can you both be my favourites?”

“I don’t know,” she hums.

“Think on it while I finish your hair and tell you why I asked if you remembered Jamie.” I reach for a tiny pink elastic from the table and wrap it around the end of the first braid. “He’s a professional football player, and he still gets the jitters before every game. He’d tell you that if you were nervous for your first ballet class, that means all you want to do is be the best you can be.”

She twists in the chair, staring back at me with wide, hope-lined eyes. “Do you get nervous, Ollie?”

“’Course I do, peanut. Every time a call comes through thestation, I get nervous. I want to make sure I can be my best every time I go out there, and sometimes I worry that I’ll make a mistake.”

A single mistake or lagged response can cost me and everyone involved everything. I have to keep my decisions instant but thought out and safe for everyone involved. My nerves look a lot more like fear now than they did years ago.

“I think you’re the best firefighter ever! Thank you for braiding my hair,” she says, pushing onto her knees to smack a kiss to my forehead before sitting back down flat.

My heart pumps harder than it does the minutes before arriving on a scene, and I sniff to try and disguise the swell of emotion I feel taking over my body.

There’s a hand palming my shoulder when I take my next breath, and the scent of Avery’s perfume swirls around me. I don’t know what to say, or if I can even say anything at all to describe how I’m feeling, so I don’t. And she doesn’t force me to.

Glancing up, I watch as she nods, eyes watery and bright. It’s enough of a statement without either of us speaking aloud.

She pulls an extra chair beside me and leans close to watch my fingers as I work on finishing the second braid. Her hand falls to my thigh, and I stare at it for a moment before getting back to work.

The studio isfull of moms and little kids Nova’s age. They bounce around the room in a flurry of pink tutus and excited squeals while the instructor has them gather in a circle to stretch.

Nova’s not shy around unfamiliar faces once she’s been introduced to them, and she’s already made friends with every single kid, her prior nerves be damned. My chest has been puffed for minutes now, and I don’t dare try to deflate it.

The moms are all sitting on slightly cushioned chairs alongthe wall, and Avery’s been chatting with the same one since we got here. Tasha, I believe her name is. Her son, Jacob, has been following Nova around like a hound with a scent.

I’ll be keeping an eye on him.

The dance instructor was my mom once upon a time but is now a woman named Lauren, whom she hand-picked years ago. She seems good enough but nowhere near as skilled as Mom. Nova would have loved being taught by her.

“So, which one is yours?” the mom on my left asks.

I brush my thumb over Avery’s knuckles and rest our linked hands on my thigh before looking to see if the woman was speaking to me.

“Mine?” I ask.

She smiles, nodding encouragingly. “Yes. You’re the only man here, so I’m assuming one of the students has to be your daughter.”

“Right. Nova’s mine,” I tell her, searching for Nova in the line along the mirrored wall. Finding her instantly, I point her out before I realize what exactly I’ve just said. “She’s not mine—well, not not mine. I’m not her father—he’s not here right now. Nova’s?—”

Avery, having heard every fucking word I’ve blabbered, reaches across my lap and offers the mom the hand I’m not gripping for dear life.

“Hi, I’m Avery, Nova’s mom, and this is Oliver, my boyfriend. Which one of these rug rats is yours?”

“Hope’s my daughter. I’m Lillian. It’s nice to meet the both of you.”

They shake hands before I offer her mine, and the two women fall into easy conversation. Avery might have a tendency to be just as grumpy as me if she wants to, but she’s also far more outgoing than I’ve ever been.

Maybe that’s a skill she learned after becoming a mother, but either way, I’m grateful that she’s able to jump in when I can’t manage to wrangle a single sentence together.

Nova’s busy chatting to the boy who can’t seem to leave her alone for all of two seconds while the instructor tries to show them a few basic stretches, and with one quick look to the other side of the room, I find my mom watching from the doorway.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Avery, giving her hand a squeeze before leaving her talking to Lillian.

Mom’s backed out of the doorway and is waiting for me in the hall when I step out of the studio. Practically vibrating, she reaches for me and grips me tight.

“You’re here, Oliver! With Avery and Nova. Oh, my heart is going to explode straight through my chest,” she gushes, shaking me.

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