Page 17 of Daddy's Perfect Ballerina

“It is,” I whisper loudly back. “Let’s go let him in, hmm?”

“Okay!” she hops up, running on short legs to the front room.

He’s letting himself in with the key I gave him when she scrambles to a halt, spinning around to half-hide behind my leg. Shy but excited is essentially Miley in any new situation. She’s absolutely precious and never fails to melt my heart.

“Hi, Mr—I mean, just Leo!”

“Hello, Miley,” Leo says, smiling nervously. He’s looking lovely as usual, dressed in a fit pair of jeans and long-sleeve cotton shirt. “Would you like to meet Toast?” He holds up the small cat carrier and a high-pitched meow sounds from it.

Miley gasps from behind my leg and immediately rushes toward him. “You have a kitty!?”

“I do! Is it okay if she plays with us today?”

“Of course!” she squeaks, jumping up and down.

“We have to show Toast her water and litter box first,” I tell my daughter. I’d bought both specifically for this visit. And hopefully, constant visits to follow. “Come now, let’s get our furry guest sorted.”

An hour later, Miley is positively obsessed with Toast. She’s gentle with her, and totally content following her around as she explores our house. Hopefully, soon-to-be her house too. Fuck, I’ll build a new one if this one doesn’t suit Leo.

It’s one of my first personal projects. Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a sort of hybrid of farmhouse style and cottage. It’s a warm place to live. A place I’m happy to raise Miley and grow old with…fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?

We’ve moved into the kitchen, watching as Miley follows Toast around the connecting dining room, amused as the little thing twirls between chair legs.

Leo and I share a look, both basking in just how well this is going. Needing to feel our connection, I pull him close. Our lips meet, tender and sweet.

Just as I’m about to pull back, squealing laughter meets my ears. “Papa, you’re kissing!”

Leo chuckles, dropping his head to hide in my neck. His cheeks heat against my skin.

“I’m probably going to kiss Leo a lot more, sweetie,” I tell her gently. “That okay with you?”

She hums, tapping her finger against her chin before shrugging. “Okay! Can I have cupcake?”

I laugh but nod. “Of course. What flavor?”

“Strawberry!”

“Strawberry it is, cupcake.”

She giggles. “I’m not a cupcake, Papa.”

“You’re right, you’re even sweeter.”

More giggles fill the room as she runs over to us. “Do you like strawberries, Leo? I’ll share my cupcake with you. Not Papa, though.”

“Betrayed by my own flesh and blood,” I sniff, hiding a smile at the awed expression on my boyfriend’s face.

“I like strawberries,” he tells her softly. “You don’t have to share with me if you don’t want to though, Miley.”

She blows a raspberry at him like that’s a ridiculous thing to say. “You silly, Leo. I share.” With a firm nod, she climbs into his chair with him and plops down on his thigh to sit. When she notices I haven’t fetched her treat for her yet, she huffs. “Papaaa!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” I relent, heading for the fridge.

“Psst,” I hear Miley whisper to Leo. I watch from the corner of my eye as she cups one side of her face, and he leans in to listen. “My papa loves you,” she tells him, not able to make the words quiet enough.

Leo looks at her with sparkling eyes. “I love your papa too,” he whispers in return.

“And me?” she demands.

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