Page 90 of Doughn't Let Me Go

A blush stains Dory’s cheeks.

“That was supposed to be our secret,” Dory whispers to Kyrie.

“And you’re my favorite because my daddy likes you.”

“Does he now?”

“Yep.”

Dory’s eyes find mine and she tucks her lips together, trying to hide her smile.

I lift a shoulder, taking a sip of the hot brew in my hands.

“How do you know that?” Dory asks.

Kyrie shrugs and hops back up onto her step stool, reaching for an egg to crack. “Because he looks at you a lot when you’re not looking at him.”

I feel the tips of my ears heat, which is unusual for me. I’m not one to get embarrassed easily, maybe from all my years of being the poor kid who got picked on. I grew some thick skin.

But hearing my daughter say she’s caught me lusting after her nanny?That’sembarrassing as fuck.

“I’ll have to remember that bit of information,” Dory says quietly, and I know she’s talking to me.

I rest my elbows against the counter next to Kyrie, watching her work.

“How’d you get here anyway? You walk? I know your little legs can’t carry youthatfar. You’ve skipped leg day three times this month already.”

Kyrie groans. “Because leg day is theworst.”

“Leg day is the best day.”

“No way.” Her nose wrinkles. “Missy Fishy came and got me this morning.”

My eyes shoot to Dory, but I continue talking to Kyrie. “She did, huh? Why’s that?”

“I was missing you.”

“You were? But I thought Uncle Foster was your favorite?”

“No.Doryis my favorite.” She smacks a loud kiss to my cheek. “But you’re my second favorite.”

“I’m honored,” I deadpan. “What are you making me for breakfast?”

“Omelets.”

“Extra onions,” Dory comments, and I cover my laugh with my coffee cup.

“Ew. Gross,” Kyrie says. “Please don’t put onions in mine.”

Last night with her was…comfortable. It felt so normal to just hang out and talk. Being around her felt so natural, so right.

I want to do it again and again.

And maybe once more for good measure.

“What’d you do last night, Dad?”

“Well, I…”

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