Page 32 of Stick Move

She chuckles and her cheeks turn all kinds of pink. “Why would I ever agree to that?”

“Because you’re going to enjoy it.”

She bites her lip and I open the door, cutting across the hall to my daughter’s room. “Hey,” I whisper as I enter, the moon and stars over her bed providing sufficient light for me to see her. “You okay, Bean?”

“I heard a noise.”

I listen for a second and off in the distance waves lap at the shore below. “Come here.” She crawls out of her bed, and I walk to her window and open it. “Is this what you heard?”

She nods. “That’s just the ocean falling asleep. If you listen to it, it will help you sleep too.” I briefly close my eyes. “I love the sound.” I notice Charlie in her hands. “I bet Charlie wanted back in this room because he loves the sound of the ocean too.”

She grins. “I think he does.”

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” I note the book on her nightstand, and it fills my heart with love. “In the morning, we can have pancakes.”

“Ms. Brighton said she’d make them for me.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my pancakes?” I tease.

“Daddy, yours have lumps.”

“And what did I tell you about those lumps?”

“You said they were wish lumps.” She puckers her little brow. “You said, every time I found one, I had to make a wish and I could wish on anything I wanted.”

“That’s right. Have you been making wishes?”

“Yes, I’ve been wishing for no more lumps and I’m still getting lumps.” She thumps her palm against her forehead and groans.

I laugh at that, and she snuggles in with Charlie, squeezing him tight. “Do you like your new room?”

“It’s peachy.” I grin as she mimics her grandmother. “I like that Ms. Brighton is going to be my nanny.”

I bend and give her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m so glad.”

She wiggles as I tuck the blankets around her. “I know,” she bursts out excitedly. “Maybe I’ll wish on my lumps that she’ll be my new mommy.”

I gulp, my heart aching for the hole this little girl has smack dab in the middle of hers. She’s far too young to feel the pain of so much loss. “It’s good to have wishes, but remember not all wishes come true.”

“I know,” she bursts out. “But I’m going to wish for that, Daddy.”

I try to breathe through a measure of panic. “Ms. Brighton is only watching you for the next NHL season, Bean. Then we’ll go from there. She’s probably going to want to go back to doing other things.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she groans, and grins, like she has a secret I don’t know about.

Boards creak at the end of the hall, and I turn toward the sound. Shit, how much did Brighton hear? Every instinct I possess tells me to run, to get out of here before my daughter is in too deep, but it might already be too late for that. I leave in a couple of weeks and no way will I be able to find good care for Camryn now.

“Night, Bean.”

I tuck her in again, and leave her room, closing her door and glancing down the hall to see if Brighton is listening. When my gaze comes up empty, I head to the living room, and go down another hall that leads to my den and kitchen. The sound of glasses hitting a bar top reach my ears and I follow the sound to find Brighton behind the big oaken bar in my den.

“You left the desk?” I question, as I walk up to the monstrous cherrywood desk overlooking the ocean.

“It’s big and heavy and it’s been in the family for generations. I thought you might like it. If you don’t, no worries, I can have it removed tomorrow.”

I pull open one of the drawers. “It’s beautiful. It’s yours, though. I can’t keep it.”

“I don’t have any room for it, and it’s masculine. I think it suits you. You’ll have to get a new chair. My father’s was pretty worn from spending so much time in it.”

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