Page 77 of Absinthe Minded

“I don’t care.” I cupped her face and forced her to meet my gaze. “What has you so upset?”

“I’ve had a really bad day, but I can’t get into it right now.”

The hitch in her voice made my heart clench. “I’ve got you. Talk to me.”

“Tonight, after work.”

I rested my forehead against hers. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” She smiled at me for the first time in days.

“We have sex after. No matter what.”

She furrowed her brow. “What if you’re not happy with what I have to say?”

I kissed the corner of her mouth. “Then I’ll be happy afterward.”

Ella cried in the living room, and I took a step toward the door. “I’ll get her. And I want you home as soon as it slows down.”

Maggie tilted her head. “Won’t I get fired for not finishing closing duties?”

“Only if you wear that red top.”

Twenty minutes later, I kissed her goodbye. She’d changed into a T-shirt. It fit tighter than I would have preferred for work, but I took the high road and kept my mouth shut.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined this would be my life. Sure, I’d always wanted a houseful of kids, a wife, and a picket fence, but when I’d imagined my future it’d always included a stay-at-home wife, a nanny, visits to the country club, and time on the golf course. I’d thought I wanted a marriage like my parents had, until now.

Maggie would never agree to give up her career, and I wouldn’t expect her to. Though having some help around the house would be nice, but the woman refused to hire a nanny.

* * *

No matterhow shitty my day, Ella’s bath time always cheered me up. Her jerky splashes and sweet cooing noises washed away my stress better than single malt scotch.

“Let’s get you dressed.” I released the water from the mini-tub and wrapped her up before heading to the master bedroom.

Determined to be free of her hooded towel, Ella wiggled in my arms. She’d plumped up over the previous three weeks and had started to develop a personality.

I laid her on the changing table and tickled her tummy. Still damp and smelling like soap, she kicked her legs. I sang a couple of verses of a Louis Armstrong song while wrangling her into her PJs. The more I sang, the more she kicked as if determined to keep me from closing the snaps and ending our special time.

“Be still.” Laughing, I glanced at her face.

Ella’s eyes met mine, and she smiled her first, big, bright, toothless, baby smile.

Right then and there, I fell in love. Before that moment I’d protected and cared for her, but this…this was something different.

Ella had carved herself a hole in my heart that nothing, and no one, except she could fill. My daughter had wrapped me around her tiny finger with a smile.

I reached in my pocket for my phone. I had to call and tell Maggie what had happened. Better yet, I’d take a picture and text it to her.

I made faces at Ella, played peek-a-boo, even blew on her tummy, but nothing I did made her smile. Giving up, I picked her up and started humming again.

She freaking smiled.

“You like my singing?” I laid her on the bed and readied my cell. Before I could snap the picture, the dog started barking and Zach called my name.

I carried Ella down the hall and immediately wanted to turn around and lock myself in the bedroom.

The damned dog scarfed bits of cake from the floor, while Zach, also on the floor, tried to pull her back.

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