"Maybe," Britt said, smiling at her daughter's imagination. "The water here is home to all sorts of amazing sea creatures."
"I want to see them all," Paloma declared. "I want to take pictures of every single one!"
"That would be quite a collection," Britt said.
The patio door slid open. Britt turned and inhaled deeply at the sight of Lachlan standing there. He was the picture of brute masculinity, all muscular and rugged, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as his light eyes caught the golden glow of the setting sun.
"Daddy!" Paloma squealed, racing to him. “You’re home!”
Lachlan barely had time to set down his keys before Paloma launched herself at him.
“How was your day, hen? Did you have fun with your ma—” Lachlan hesitated, his gaze darting to Britt. He cleared his throat, then said, “Britt.”
“I love playing with Britt,” Paloma said, tilting her head back to look at Britt upside down. “Can she stay with us forever and ever?”
“That’s the plan,” Britt said, blowing her daughter a kiss, which she mimicked with great flair.
Paloma shifted back upright in Lachlan’s arms. “Daddy, I need my underwater camera. Where is it?”
Britt followed them into the house, unable to hide her amused smile as Lachlan's face registered confusion.
"Your underwater camera?" he asked carefully.
"Yes! I need it for tomorrow. I want to show Britt how to take pictures of the fish that live under the boats!" Paloma said with complete conviction. "I want to show her all the pretty fish we have here. We might get pictures of pirate treasure down there, too!"
Lachlan's eyes met Britt's over their daughter's head, silently asking for an explanation.
"We were looking at the yachts sailing to the harbor,” Britt explained.
"I have lots of pictures of fish, Daddy," Paloma continued seriously. “I just need you to find my camera so I can have it for tomorrow!”
Lachlan crouched down to Paloma's level. "I didn't know we had such a talented underwater photographer in the family."
"I've been taking pictures of fish since I was three,” Paloma said matter-of-factly, then pointed at a picture of herself holding a starfish on the beach. She turned to Britt. “I can teach you if you want."
Britt and Lachlan exchanged glances, trying not to laugh. Obviously, their little girl thought being in a picture was the same as taking one.
“We don’t have an underwater camera, hen. But I’m sure Britt could get Captain Charlie to take you on the glass bottom boat and see the fish in the water,” Lachlan explained.
“Captain Charlie?” Britt asked.
“He works for the King Family. Might be a nice treat for you and her,” Lachlan said.
“Okay, but I still need you to find my camera. I do have one,” Paloma said, mirroring his raised eyebrow expression and looking every bit like Lachlan’s child.
"How about we eat dinner first? Did I see rainbow goldfish on the counter?" Lachlan asked as they headed toward the kitchen.
"Yes!" Paloma said, instantly forgetting about underwater photography. “We want rainbow goat tenders and no salad. Can you believe Britt tried to make me eat food that’s green? Yuck!”
Britt sat at the kitchen island as Paloma assisted her father with all the pomp and circumstance she’d come to expect from the little girl. They moved the dinner out on the veranda, watching the sunset as Paloma gave Lachlan an excruciating play-by-play of the day’s activities. Britt ate her food quietly, enjoying having a family that was all hers. No more wondering or second-guessing. This was where she belonged. After dinner, Lachlan bathed Paloma, and she took over with bedtime storyduty. Paloma didn’t make it past the first half of the first book before she was sound asleep.
“You wore her out. She’s usually never asleep before nine o’clock,” Lachlan said, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her through the patio doors to the expansive terrace perched on the cliff's edge. A panoramic view of the moonlit beach stretched below. He settled onto the plush Balinese daybed, its teak frame draped with sheer white curtains that billowed gently in the evening breeze, and pulled Britt onto his lap.
“But I still couldn’t convince her to eat a single vegetable. She’s a stubborn one.” She tried not to pout.
“All kids are like that at her age.” Lachlan kissed her neck as his hand slipped beneath her shirt.
“Not so fast,” Britt said, shifting to look at him.
