How does he do that? Is that a surgeon thing? Steady hands?
I kneeled beside the bed and gently wiped the cotton candy residue from her face—pink sugar that had somehow migrated from her mouth to her cheeks to what appeared to be her left ear.
“She’s a disaster,” I murmured.
“She had fun,” Gabriel said quietly, working on her hands, carefully cleaning each sticky finger.
There was something about this moment—the two of us working together in the dim light of Megan’s room, the quiet intimacy of caring for this sleeping child—that felt significant.
Like we were a team.
Like this was normal.
Like we did this every night.
Stop it, Cate. This is literally your job. You’re the nanny. This is what nannies do.
Except it didn’t feel like a job.
It felt like something else entirely.
Gabriel finished with her hands and looked at me. “Pajamas?”
Right. Focus.
We worked together—him supporting her while I carefully pulled off her stained dress and maneuvered her arms into the pajama top. She made a small sound of protest but didn’t wake, just mumbled something that sounded like “more cotton candy.”
“No more cotton candy,” Gabriel said softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’ve had enough sugar to last a month.”
I got her pajama pants on while he held her steady, and then we gently laid her back down.
He pulled the covers up, tucking them around her with a precision that was somehow both clinical and tender.
Then he picked up Dr. Trunk and Dr. Bear, arranging them carefully on either side of her pillow.
“So they can protect her,” he murmured, more to himself than to me.
Oh my God, why is that so sweet? Why is everything he does making my heart do acrobatics?
He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead, his hand smoothing her hair back.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered.
I had to look away.
Had to focus on literally anything else because watching Gabriel Lyon—intimidating, controlled, professional surgeon Gabriel Lyon—being soft with his daughter was doing things to my emotional stability.
Things that were definitely not professional.
Things that were definitely not appropriate.
Things that were definitely going to get me into trouble.
He straightened, glancing at me. “Ready?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
We left the room together, and Gabriel gently closed the door behind us, leaving it open just a crack, enough to hear her if she woke up.
