Page 35 of Homebound

When she’s this fussy, the only thing that usually calms her down is being in my arms, which is exhausting—having her attached to me all the time. I can’t even go to the bathroom alone. I miss the days where I could sit on the toilet for an hour, scrolling through random shit on my phone.

I pull her close, dropping my voice to a soothing hum. “I know you’re tired, baby, and I know your teeth hurt, but I’m trying my best here.”

But my best never feels like enough. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m enough.

She screams.

I wince.

Her cries are the tired kind, the ones that come when there’s nothing left but exhaustion. I’ve been running on fumes since I left the market this afternoon, going through store after store with my parents, hunting for the perfect convertible crib.

Vi’s turning into a little climber, trying to pull herself up, so I need a sturdier one. The pieces of her new crib lay scattered around the barn’s living room because I don’t have enough arms to hold her and assemble it. I glance at the closed bedroom door and release a long breath. Maybe we can do one more night in the old crib.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” I pace the living room, swaying her, when the front door suddenly bursts open.

Dakota stumbles inside, and she’s not alone.

Right.

I forgot.

Her date.

There’s a man clinging to her waist, so with a tight jaw, I yank my gaze away. We’re going to have to lay down some ground rules for the summer because there’s no goddamn way I can stomach watching this over and over again when I can’t even remember what it feels like to have sex.

The last time I was inside a woman was Vienna’s mom, and as grateful as I am to have my daughter, I try not to think about that night too often. Mostly because it makes me feel like a jackass since I was imagining it was Dakota the entire time.

The new guy groans. “Kodie Cutler, you’re driving me wild. Where’s your room?”

Vienna’s high-pitched cry slices through the barn, drawing their attention, and for once, I’m grateful for her shrill scream. “That’s my girl. Nice timing, baby,” I coo in her ear.

“Shit. Thought we were alone. Who's this?” the guy asks, scanning my sweats. “You got a kid, Kodie?”

Dakota’s panting, chest heaving, and every curve of hers is on display—for him. She’s wearing one of her lacy blue dresses that she only wears when she goes out. Fuck. I love it when she wears dresses because it always makes me imagine sliding my hand up her thigh.

She’s got on makeup too, which means she tried for this guy in a way she never did for me. She looks beautiful, but she always looks beautiful.

“No, she’s not my kid, but she’s mine for the summer,” she says.

Dakota’s reply is quick, her gaze meeting mine, and there’s a flicker of... what? Possessiveness, maybe? It’s right there in her eyes, and it warms me more than I expect—her claiming my little girl.

“This is my roommate and his daughter, Vienna,” she explains. “Isn’t she a cutie-pie?”

The man huffs. “Yeah, a loud one. Nothing like a crying kid to kill the mood.”

Dakota shoots him her infamous Cutler glare, and suddenly, the air shifts. She points to the red front door.

“Leave,” she demands.

His mouth gapes.

So does mine.

“What?” he blurts.

“You need your ears checked? Maybe a cotton swab?” She nods to the door, sounding anything but sweet even though she looks like her dress is made of blue cotton candy. “Leave. Now. You can go.”

The guy’s frown deepens. “Seriously? I came all the way over here.”