Page 43 of The Keeper

I had heard my dad say he was willing to lay down his life if it meant keeping his kids safe, but I never truly understood it until now.

She was everything I never knew I needed. As I watched her giggleand clap at the characters’ antics, I knew I would protect her until I took my last breath.

God help any bastard who got in my way.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Piper appeared, hair damp and cheeks flushed.

“Feeling better after your bath, darlin’?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow suggestively.

She blushed deeper. “Much better. Has she eaten?”

I glanced down at our daughter, who was so transfixed by the cartoon dogs prancing across the screen she hadn’t even noticed her mother come in.

“Tell Mama you had a container of yogurt and two of the blueberry muffins on the counter,” I said, grinning at Avery. She was still completely engrossed in Bluey, her tiny brow furrowed in concentration.

Piper’s eyes widened. “My goodness, Avery. You were a hungry girl!”

“Wasn’t sure about giving her eggs, so I stuck with what looked kid-friendly,” I explained, aware of how much I still had to learn.

“Oh, yeah,” Piper said, realization dawning on her face. “She doesn’t have any food allergies. I’m sorry. I should have said something.”

“No worries. We figured it out.” I nodded toward the kitchen. “There are eggs and bacon in the microwave, so eat up.”

I couldn’t resist adding, “Hope you’re a hungry girl, too, because you’re gonna need your strength for what I have planned.”

“A-ma!” Avery shrieked, finally noticing her mother and pointing excitedly at the TV.

“I see, pumpkin,” Piper managed, her eyes wide and voice slightly strained. “We should get your diaper changed?—”

“Already done,” I cut in. “And she’s had her pain meds. Now, sit your pretty A-S-S down and eat your breakfast.”

The weight of Piper’s gaze burned into me as I turned my attention back to the TV, watching as Bluey and her friends played at the park. “I can feel you staring at me,” I said without turning around. “You gonna eat, or do I need to feed it to you myself?”

She inhaled a sharp breath before grumbling, “I can feed myself.”

“Prove it,” I said, grinning at the sound of silverware clinking against the plate.

When she finished and headed toward the sink to start cleaning up, I shook my head. “Leave your dishes and come sit.”

“But I can do it.”

I narrowed my eyes, twisting to look at her over the back of the couch. “I know you can, darlin’. You’ve been doing it the whole damn time. Now, it’s my turn to take care of both of you. End of discussion. Come here,” I said, patting the space next to me.

She hesitated, conflict clear on her face, before she finally sank down beside me.

“Careful, or she’ll rope you into an all-dayBlueymarathon,” Piper said, looking up at me with a bemused smirk.

“Better than singing sharks,” I drawled, pulling her closer.

She rested her head against my shoulder, her damp hair tickling my neck. I breathed in the scent of her shampoo, enjoying the feel of her in my arms.

“You’re handling the whole fatherhood bombshell pretty well,” Piper said after several minutes of silence. “Most men would be freaking out or demanding a paternity test?—”

“A paternity test?” I scoffed, bristling at the implication. “Why the hell would I need that?”

“Well, I mean, look at her, Dane. Red hair. Ghost-white skin. She doesn’t exactly look like either of us.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “That’s all Lucy Riggs right there. My mom’s hair has more white in it these days, but it used to be the same color as Avery’s.”

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