Page 43 of The Hard Hitter

“Always taking care of everyone,” I say, and give him a kiss. His stomach takes that moment to grumble. “Have you had anything to eat?” I ask.

“No, I didn’t want to bang around downstairs and wake either of my sleeping beauties.” Just then, Daisy calls out to her father. “Coming, kiddo,” he says, and turns.

“What does Daisy like for breakfast?” I ask.

“I’m not sure she has much of an appetite, but she loves pancakes with blueberries.”

I nod. “You go take care of her, and let me take care of breakfast for the three of us.”

He arches a brow. “I don’t have microwave pancakes, Sam.”

I pick up a pillow and throw it at him. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”

Chuckling, he goes down the hall, and I fold up the sleeves on the big shirt I’m wearing and head to the kitchen. After searching his cupboards, I come across a boxed mix.

“Perfect,” I say. For a second there, I feared I was going to have to make them from scratch. But if I can make a pie from scratch, I can probably figure out pancakes easily enough. I search the fridge for butter, blueberries and syrup, and set them on the counter.

Giggles from upstairs reach my ears, and relief that Daisy is feeling better moves through me. I go to work on the pancakes, and use the blueberries to make happy faces in Daisy’s small ones. I make a couple larger ones for the adults. I turn at the sound of footsteps on the stairs—and my heart grows in size when I see Daddy and Daughter enter the kitchen hand in hand. The love between the two fills the room, and my heart.

“Daddy said you were making pancakes,” Daisy says. “I want mine with booberries.”

I laugh at the way she says blueberries. I plate hers and set them on the table. “Come see.” She lets her father’s hand go and rubs her eyes as she scurries to the table. A huge smile lights up her sweet face when she sees her breakfast. “Daddy, they have a face!”

“I see,” he says, and pours a little syrup on them. His eyes turn to mine, and the smile he gives me makes me want to make Daisy breakfast every day. “Do I have a booberry smiley face, too?”

“No, but I can arrange that for next time.”

Daisy eats her breakfast, and Zander darts her a glance before pressing his lips to mine. “Thanks,” he whispers, and that’s when I note the lines around his eyes.

He didn’t get much sleep last night. But it’s Sunday morning and I have nothing on my agenda today, so I plan to rectify that.

We all sit at the table and dig into our food. Daisy has dark circles under her eyes, and I suspect that she’ll be back in bed shortly.

“Is she going to have to stay home for the next little bit?” I ask.

“Yeah, Quinn said she can’t take her to the daycare, even though that’s likely where she picked this up.”

“How about Scotty, does he have them, too?”

“Not yet, but Quinn suspects he’ll start to show signs soon enough.”

“Well, at least she has her Daddy here to be with her.”

Zander nods and takes a sip of his coffee. His tension reaches out to me, but I don’t comment on it, not while Daisy is still at the table.

He pushes to his feet and goes to

the fridge. “Orange juice,” he asks his daughter, and she nods her tired little head.

He brings her a glass and holds the jug out to me.

“I’m good with just coffee, thanks.”

“What repairs are you looking to have done at your place?” he asks, leading the conversation away from him and on to me. For the next few minutes, I tell him what I’d like to do, eventually. When money is no longer an issue. He nods his head thoughtfully and just takes it all in.

“Daddy, I want to watch Paw Patrol,” Daisy says.

He nods and stands, holding his hand out to her. “First, let’s brush your teeth and change your clothes.”

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