Page 113 of Small Town, Big Storm

Fuck, the way my chest puffs up, hope and pleasure and pure, masculine joy filling my heart (and dick).

It’s probably pathetic.

But I feel like fucking Superman.

So yeah, Ishouldgo sleep on the couch.

Instead, I reach for the blankets, tug them back…

Then I crawl into bed beside Poppy.

And like I did seven years ago, I draw her into my arms.

And like I did seven years ago…

I wake up alone.

Thirty

Poppy

“Mom?”

I turn from the slowly filling coffee pot and watch Holly half-stumble, half-sleepwalk across the room, rubbing her fists over her eyes.

She’s in the spare set of pajamas Clover keeps at her place, her hair a mess.

But she’s my adorable baby girl.

“Come here, munchkin,” I say, crouching down and opening my arms.

My left one is aching and I’m definitely ready for some pain medicine, but it never sits well on an empty stomach for me.

So toast and coffee and pills.

But hugging my little girl first.

“I was worried,” she whispers, snuggling close and holding me tight.

“I’m sorry, baby.But I’m okay.Did you see my cast?”I ask when she pulls back, shoves her hair back.

“It’s red,” she says…and yup, it’s judgmental.

“Yup.”I bite back a grin.“Want to sign it?”

That has her eyes lighting up.“Am I the first person?”

“I promised you would be, remember?”I hitch my head to the side.“Want to grab the Sharpie?”

“Yeah!I’m gonna write my namebig.”She runs off to pull out the basket of markers we keep beside her coloring books.

Lips twitching, I turn back to the coffee pot…

To find Storm standing there.

With thunderclouds back in his eyes.

I frown, but to his credit, he just holds up the cream and sugar.