Page 42 of The Hard Hitter

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

I sit with Daisy, and smooth her hair back as Andi, her guppy, swims in the gurgling tank.

“Scotty didn’t want me to go,” she says. Th-snotty. “But I missed my Daddy.”

My heart pinches. “I know. When we don’t feel good, we always want to be home in our own beds.”

“I like my bed.”

“You have a very cool bed. I want a car bed like this.”

She laughs. “You’re silly. This is too small for you.”

“I could fit,” I say, and slide in behind her.

She lays down next to me and her fingers go to my hair. She curls the strands around her fingers. “You’re wet,” she says.

“I went swimming in your pool.”

Her eyes slide shut, and her breathing evens out. I let mine go closed with her, and a second later, Zander is calling out to his daughter.

“Daisy,” he says. “Can you sit up for a second.”

“No, Daddy.”

“Just for a second, then we can go back to sleep,” I say.

I sit up, and she reluctantly follows. She takes the chewable and cringes as she eats it. Zander gives her a sip of water to wash it down. I gently lay her back down and settle next to her on her pillow. The sound of Zander’s throat working fills the room.

Her fingers curl in my hair again, and once more, my eyes drift shut.

When I open them again, I’m no longer in Daisy’s bed, and the sun is shining into the room.

13

Sam

I make a quick trip to the bathroom, and step from the master suite to see Zander coming up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Morning,” he says and hands me the cup of coffee.

“Morning,” I say and take a sip. “And thank you.”

“I brought you in here last night, after Daisy was sound asleep. You two were pretty cramped in that car bed, and you’d be all twisted up today if I hadn’t moved you,” he says.

He pushes my hair from her face. It was damp when she fell asleep.

“My hair looks like a bird’s nest.”

“Have you ever really seen a bird’s nest?” he asks.

“I suppose I haven’t.”

“Well, I have, the twigs are weaved together beautifully, not one out of place. So really, your hair is the opposite of a bird’s nest.”

“Hey,” I say and whack him. Then I remember Daisy and lower my voice. “How is Daisy?”

He stifles a yawn and stretches. “She was up a couple more times through the night. She’s sleeping now, and her fever is down. Fever’s scare me. When Quinn was young, she would spike high, and I would spend hours cooling her with a cold cloth.”

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