Page 57 of Shot Through the Heart

Once they’ve shed all their winter gear, Harper shoves the sweaty waves that have escaped her braid from her face and turns to me.

“Where’s the cocoa, Mama?”

“The cocoa is only going to come out once everyone is clean.” I pinch my nose and dramatically wave my hand in front of it. “Quick bath, then cocoa by the fire.”

I glance over at Greyson standing right beside her, eyeing his sweat-slicked hair. They look so eerily similar that it’s almost funny. I resist the urge to grab my phone and take another picture of them.

He grins, his cheeks still rosy from being outside all day. “I’ll pop in the shower quick and meet you girls back out here.”

As he’s passing by me, he pauses. The mischievous shine in his eyes should have been warning enough, but I don’t process it fast enough. Greyson grabs me and pulls me into his sweat-soaked chest.

“Quick, Harper! Hug Mama,” he tells her, and she barrels into my legs without questioning it. I squirm, careful to not actually shove Harper away.

“Get your sweaty arms away from me!” I laugh and push at Greyson, but he only holds me closer.

“We just wanna hug you, Mama.” Harper feigns innocence and talks between giggles.

“You’re gonna get your sweat all over me. Bathtubs, now!”

Greyson chuckles, lowering his head so he can whisper in my ear, “I can think of better ways to get you sweaty.”

He leaves a teasing kiss just below my ear before sauntering toward our bedroom. I’m left blushing as I wrangle Harper toward the bathroom down the hall.

She yaps nonstop about her day on the ice with Greyson, asking if she can do it again tomorrow and how he does it in Florida when there’s no snow.

Her mind is going to be blown when she sees an indoor ice rink for the first time.

Thirty minutes later, everyone is clean, in their pajamas, and waiting for me to finish topping the hot cocoa with whipped cream. Grey grabs both our mugs, leaving me to carry Harper’s not as steamy hot cocoa.

Once we’re all sitting on the little blanket and pillow pile in front of the fire, I meet Greyson’s gaze over Harper’s head. He gives me a soft smile and nods, answering my silent question.

“Harper, there’s something we want to talk about,” I start, tapping my finger against the side of my mug as I watch her every reaction.

“You know how some of your friends have mommies and daddies?”

Harper nods. “Yup. And some have two mamas. Kenzie has two dads,” she states, running her finger through the whipped cream and licking it off.

“That’s right.” I praise her, reaching to wipe a stray drop of cream from her chin.

“Zoey doesn’t have a mama or a daddy. She has Miss Eva.” My heart constricts at her understanding that everyone is raised differently, but her next sentence nearly breaks me. “And I have a mama but no dad.”

Grey closes his eyes, sucking in a slow breath. Swallowing thickly, I set my mug down on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“Well, that’s what we gotta talk about, sweetie. You do have a daddy.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. She quickly turns to look at Grey before twisting back to me.

“I do?” she asks, her tone filled with as much doubt as a four-year-old could muster. I smile at her, hoping to ease some of her worries.

“Yeah, you do.” I duck my head down so I’m closer to her level and point to Greyson. “He’s your dad.”

Harper blinks at me, her face turning skeptical as she whips around to look up at a panic-stricken Grey.

“Was he not my dad because we didn’t live in Flowda?” she asks me, mispronouncing the state, but at least she knows where we moved to.

I shake my head, take her half drunk cup from her, and pull her onto my lap.

“No, honey. He’s always been your daddy. He just…didn’t know about you.”

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