Page 12 of The Captain's Little Girl

“I never wanted other options,” she answered stubbornly. They’d been close before, but Mark had never taken that last step to being intimate.

“I should have trusted you to know yourself. Come on.” He held out a hand and tugged her from her chair. “I never thought poorly of you, baby girl.”

Mark stopped at the sink and grabbed a paper towel. Wetting it, he washed her mouth and hands. Cricket loved him taking care of her and wasn’t embarrassed at all that the syrup had attacked her. She pondered his words as she studied his face. He hadn’t thought poorly of her.

Realization crashed over her. Cricket understood Mark’s reluctance. His job was dangerous. The possibility that he wouldn’t return from a mission existed every time Mark left. He’d been doing this for a long time. He hadn’t wanted to make her his completely in case he didn’t make it home. She blinked back the tears that clouded her vision as he stepped away to drop the disposable material in the trashcan.

When he offered her his hand, she intertwined her fingers with his, feeling his strength and taking comfort in his vitality. She swore to herself she’d keep her knowledge to herself. Cricket didn’t want to chance putting the idea that something would happen to him into the world.

Holding her daddy’s slightly damp hand, she let him lead her down the hallway to that closed door they’d passed the evening before. She peeked past him as he opened the door. When Mark stood back, Cricket wandered inside, trying to look everywhere at the same time. She knew that River, Hope, Rosie, and Ember all had nurseries as they’d talked about it.

Walking past a closet door, Cricket casually tried the doorknob and found it locked. She studiously didn’t look at Mark even when he commented, “Daddy’s supplies to take care of you, baby girl.”

Cricket planned to grill the others on what was inside later. She ran her hand over the padded top of the changing table and put her hand on the drawer pull to peek inside.

“Daddy’s things. That’s a no-no, Cricket.”

“Daddy’s got a lot of things in my nursery,” she huffed before stepping away to wander to the crib.

It was beautiful. A soft peach-colored comforter covered crisp white sheets. A spotted leopard stuffie guarded the interior. Cricket brushed her hand over the plush fur covering it.

“He needs a name.”

Cricket picked up the toy and hugged it close. “Buttons,” she announced, kissing the stuffie between the ears where she knew he would like scratches a lot.

“That’s a perfect name. I’ve been calling him Tiger.”

“He’s a leopard,” Cricket corrected in indignation at his mistake.

When Mark chuckled, she looked up to see the amusement on his face and knew he was teasing her. “You!” she accused and bumped him with her shoulder.

Mark wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. After pressing a soft kiss to her forehead that made her heart swell, Mark hugged her tight. Her emotions flip-flopped all over the place from cautious to optimistic, with a scattering of I love him mixed into both.

“I’m going to clean the kitchen while you get acquainted with your nursery and Buttons. When I finish, we’ll have to head out.”

“Okay. I’ll need some clothes,” she answered slowly. “And a shower.”

“I think there’s time to shower and stop by your apartment before I need to be there,” Mark answered, looking at his watch.

“You want me to shower here?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she wondered if they had enough time to…

“You are going to be the death of me, baby girl.”

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