Page 73 of Homebound

I focus on my baby girl, ignoring the smart-mouthed, sexy-as-hell bull rider bending over in my kitchen like she knows exactly what those tiny shorts are doing to me.

I scoop Vi up from the playpen, dump some more blueberries onto her highchair, and start putting her hair into pigtails. I’m getting damn good at pigtails. Braids are a whole other beast, but I’ve been practicing on my own hair, so that’s one benefit to keeping it longer.

Dakota watches with quirked lips, but a thought seems to occur to her the longer she stares, and she frowns. “How’re you so calm right now? We kissed last night. That’s a big thing, but you’re over here acting like it’s nothing.”

Play it off, Patterson. Stay calm to keep her calm.

“I’m not worried because it felt normal to me, and I hope you’ll let me kiss you again ’cause I can’t stop thinking about it,” I admit while finishing with Vi’s hair.

Her pigtails are lopsided, but oh well. At least it’s not the pigtail-tantrum-fiasco that happened in the Target candle aisle.

“Normal?” Her mouth falls. “Kissing me feels normal to you? How? We basically did a one-eighty and went straight from friends to a hell of a lot more.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, trying to play it off. Act casual. “But it feels very normal. Like I should've kissed you a lot sooner.”

She groans, burying her face in her hands.

Okay.

Not the reaction a man wants.

I can almost hear her thoughts spiraling, so I walk over to her and cradle her cheeks. “Hey. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Her honey eyes search mine until she releases a breath, and then all her worries spill out in one massive string of oxygen. “I’m just a little overwhelmed with all this. You two mean more to me than anyone else, so I want to think this through. I know I can’t do the whole summer fling with you.”

Being with me comes with a lot of big decisions. Capitalized Big Decisions, if I’m honest. If a woman’s going to be with me, she has to be okay with potentially being a mom to my daughter.

I’ll never be a casual fling again. My life isn’t easily flung anymore.

I press my lips to her forehead. “I know I come with a lot of strings, being a dad, and I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for, so let’s take this one day at a time.”

“Hey, your daughter is not a string,” she says in a passionate voice. “She’s one of the best parts of being with you. It’s like a two-for-one package, but I still occasionally smoke weed on the weekends with Lana.” That thought seems to make some light bulb go off in her brain, and she rubs a hand through her dark hair, seeming stressed. “Oh my god, what if we really do this whole thing, Wyatt? I just realized I’d be Vi’s mom.”

Mom.

She said mom.

I should be surprised she jumped to that conclusion so fast, but I’m not. Her mind always spirals, imagining every possible outcome. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I shrug like that one word didn’t spark a swarm of hope in my chest while I pepper her inner wrist with kisses. “You’re fine. Legal occasional marijuana consumption doesn’t make you a terrible parent.”

“Technically, it’s not legal in Texas. I’m breaking the law. Do you really want her to have a criminal for a mom, Wyatt? How does this not bother you?”

“Well,” I say, still stuck on the word mom. Still trying not to react. “For one, I like that you’re thinking long-term about us, and two, she already has a criminal for a dad. Don’t you remember that one summer the cops busted me for stumbling around on the beach in Corpus? I spent the night in the drunk tank, covered in someone else’s piss, and she still calls me daddy, so… We do our best, but no parent should be expected to be perfect. That’s like expecting your kid to be perfect all the time.”

“I forgot about that. You and beaches.” She huffs a laugh. “Still. I’m mostly used to keeping things casual since Boone, so this is a lot for me to process.”

“We can keep things casual,” I blurt without thinking.

All the happiness in me comes to a screeching halt.

Goddammit.

I hate that word. Casual.

I don’t know why I said it, and I want to take it back, but her eyes brighten with something that looks like relief. “Are you sure?”

I don’t want to be like the other guys she only calls when she’s drunk, but the last thing I need is to scare her off before this starts, especially if she’s not ready to be a mom. I don’t want to force her into anything.