Page 26 of Worth the Fall

"Do you want to see my castle?" She tugs my hand, already leading me toward the playground. "Sometimes dragons try to take over but that's okay because I know all the best defense strategies."

For the next hour, I'm fully immersed in Felicity's world. We defend the castle (a climbing structure), from dragons, establish diplomatic relations with the neighboring kingdom (the sandbox), and hold royal court from the swings. Miguel joins our adventures occasionally, but mostly he watches from nearby, that soft smile never leaving his face.

"You're really good at that," he says quietly when Felicity is occupied with a very serious conversation with her stuffed unicorn about proper kingdom management.

"At what? Diplomatic dragon negotiations?" I cock my hip. "You mean you didn’t take Mythical Fantasy Negotiations 101 in law school?"

"At all of it." His voice is low, intimate. "At making her feel heard. At jumping into her imagination without hesitation. At…" He pauses, something vulnerable crossing his face. "At fitting into our world so naturally."

The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. Before I can respond, Felicity calls out, "Miss Mia! We need you for the princess parade! Daddy can't do it right because he doesn't know the proper twirl technique!"

"Well, we can't have improper twirling," I say seriously, forcing myself to look away from Miguel's heated gaze. "Should we show him how it's done?"

"Yes!" She demonstrates an impressively elaborate spin. "See, Daddy? Like this! Miss Mia, you try!"

I attempt to copy her movement, probably looking ridiculous but not caring because her delighted giggle is worth any embarrassment. When I glance at Miguel again, the way he's looking at me makes heat pool low in my belly.

"Your turn, Daddy!" Felicity demands.

"Oh, no." He holds up his hands. "Daddies don't twirl."

"Please?" She flashes him the puppy dog eyes, and I watch with amusement as Miguel's resistance crumbles instantly.

"The things I do for you, princess." He sighs, but he's grinning as he attempts a somewhat uncoordinated spin that has both Felicity and me dissolving into laughter.

"Again!" Felicity claps, but her demand is interrupted by a massive yawn.

"I think someone's ready for lunch and maybe a nap," Miguel says, checking his watch.

"No nap!" she protests, but her eyes are already drooping. "We haven't finished teaching Daddy proper princess protocol!"

"How about we get some food first?" I suggest, surprising myself with how naturally the 'we' comes out. "Then we can discuss super top secret royal training techniques."

Miguel's eyes meet mine over Felicity's head, silently asking if I really want to extend our time together. I give a small nod, my heart skipping at his answering smile.

"Can we get chicken nuggets?" Felicity perks up. "The dinosaur kind? They're very important for princess energy."

"The dinosaur kind are clearly superior," I agree solemnly.

Twenty minutes later, we're settled at a corner booth in a nearby diner, Felicity carefully arranging her nuggets in what she explains is "optimal dinosaur formation for maximum royal impact," a phrase that Miguel clearly taught her.

"T-Rex goes first," she informs me seriously. "He's the king of nuggets."

I'm so caught up in her elaborate nugget hierarchy explanation that I almost miss the way Miguel's watching us, his expression making my chest tight with something that feels dangerously like belonging.

"What?" I ask softly when Felicity is distracted by her french fries.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, but his eyes are warm. "Just… thank you. For today. For being so good with her. For?—"

"Daddy!" Felicity interrupts. "Miss Mia needs to try the special princess dipping sauce!"

The 'special sauce' turns out to be an interesting combination of ketchup and ranch that I dutifully sample, earning me an approving nod from my tiny food critic.

"See? She gets it," Felicity tells Miguel triumphantly. "Can she come to our pancake breakfast next time? Her princess manners are better than yours."

I nearly choke on my drink as Miguel laughs. "Oh, really? What's wrong with my pancake manners?"

"You make blob shapes," she says with all the judgment a five-year-old can muster. "Miss—Miss Mia, can you make unicorn-shaped ones?"

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