Page 59 of Off-Limits Daddy
“If you’re already giving your heart, Ari,” he said eventually, “don’t be afraid to ask if he plans to hold it with both hands.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked, quieter this time. “What then?”
Cael’s mouth twisted like he hated the question. “Then he wasn’t ready for someone like you. And yeah, that would suck. But you’d still have people who see you for exactly who you are.”
I nodded.
The sun dipped lower, softening the edges of everything in a wash of warm gold. The sky took on that in-between color—not quite day, not quite night—while strings of lights flickered to life above the square. The scent of grilled meat and sweet kettle corn hung in the air, mixed with sunscreen and the faint fizz of sparklers crackling nearby.
Kids zipped through the crowd with glow sticks looped around their necks, parents trailing behind them, phones out and half-smiling.
Then I saw him.
Daddy entered from the far side of the square, near the firehouse. He wore a soft gray T-shirt that clung to his arms and dark jeans, the kind that looked well-worn but clean. A faded Braves cap sat backward on his head, and he moved through the crowd with ease. He wasn’t in uniform, but he may as well have been. People clapped him on the shoulder, nodded, called out greetings. The fire chief gave Daddy a solid handshake and said something that made them both laugh.
My pulse kicked.
There wasn’t anything special about how Daddy looked. Yet he was impossible to look away from. Every inch of me clocked him like it was muscle memory—the line of his jaw, the way his shoulders rolled with each step, how his eyes scanned the crowd like he was looking for something. Or someone. Was it me?
God, I wanted to be brave enough to tell him. Not just that I loved him, but that I didn’t want to keep loving him in secret. That I wanted the kind of quiet, open thing where I could stand beside him and not pretend he was just my friend. I wanted his hand in mine, out here in the middle of town, where everyone could see.
Sage found him first. My brother grinned wide and pulled Daddy into one of those half-hugs guys do, clapping his back like they hadn’t seen each other in months even though I knew damn well they were working on some car at Sage’s mechanic shop.
I stood there, trying not to look too hard. Wondering if Sage would be pissed if he knew Daddy and I were hooking up. If a twenty-five-year friendship could unravel over this. If Daddy would hate himself for putting it all on the line—for me.
And then Daddy’s gaze swung my way.
It landed. Held.
My breath caught.
Beside me, Cael let out a soft, knowing sound.
“God,” he muttered. “That man is going to devour you.”
I almost forgot he was there.
“Shut up,” I said under my breath.
“No, you shut up. I’m living for this.” He bumped my shoulder lightly, voice gentler now. “I told Layton I’d help him with something before the fireworks start. You gonna be okay?”
I nodded, still watching Daddy.
Cael squeezed my arm once before stepping away, disappearing back into the square with that easy saunter he always had. His absence left the space beside me feeling too open.
Daddy said something to Sage—just a few quiet words I couldn’t catch—and for a moment, his gaze slipped from me to my brother. They bumped fists like always, casual and easy, and then Daddy turned.
He moved toward me with deliberate steps. My pulse picked up speed. Up close, I caught the faint scent of whatever he always wore—clean, subtle, something I’d started to associate with him without even meaning to. He stopped just in front of me, close enough that the air between us shifted.
“You good?”
I didn’t answer right away. The question hung there, simple and quiet. But something about the way he asked it—not casually, not out of obligation—made my throat tighten.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Daddy didn’t rush me. He just waited.
“I keep thinking about us,” I went on. “I don’t want to go back to pretending you’re just my brother’s best friend,” I said quietly. “Not after last night.”
