Page 152 of Joker

Like it didn’t happen one tiny habit at a time until suddenly I’m waking up in his bed and smiling into his pillow because I know exactly how he takes his coffee and exactly which footsteps in the hall mean he’s on his way back.

That kind of thing should come with warning labels.

It doesn’t.

It just sneaks up on you and changes the shape of your whole life while you’re busy trying to survive it.

I get dressed and then head out into the hallway. Lexi is already awake when I peek into her room.

She’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed with Bunny in her lap and her hair sticking up in ten different directions, looking like a tiny woodland creature who lost a fight with a blanket.

The second she sees me, her face lights up. “Mommy!”

My heart squeezes on instinct. “Morning, bug.”

She holds her arms up immediately, and I cross the room to scoop her into my arms, breathing in that warm, sleepy little-kid smell that always feels like comfort and chaos at the same time.

She tucks herself into my shoulder for exactly two seconds before pulling back to ask, “Is Joker awake?”

And there it is. Again. The thing that is both incredibly sweet and emotionally catastrophic.

I should probably be more prepared for it by now. I’m not.

“Yes,” I tell her, brushing hair out of her face. “He’s in the kitchen.”

That’s all she needs.

She perks up instantly and wiggles hard enough that I have to set her down before she launches herself out of my arms like a tiny missile. “Joker!” she yells as she tears down the hall barefoot, Bunny trailing behind her by one ear.

I should probably stop her from screaming through the clubhouse at eight in the morning.

I don’t.

Because I’m too busy watching what happens when she barrels into the kitchen and launches herself at a man who once looked like he’d rather chew through his own arm than let a toddler jump on him first thing in the morning.

Joker catches her without even looking surprised. Just bends one arm, lifts her onto his hip like she belongs there, and keeps pouring coffee with the other hand.

Like this is normal. Like this is something he’s always known how to do. Like the sight of my daughter half-asleep and clinging to his shoulder while he mutters, “You’re loud as shit before breakfast,” doesn’t do something to my entire nervous system that should honestly require medical attention.

Lexi ignores the insult entirely and tucks her face into his neck. “I was looking for you.”

Joker sets the coffee pot down and presses a hand to the back of her little head without even seeming to think about it. “I’m devastatingly easy to find, bug.”

She lifts her face just enough to frown at him. “What’s devsa… devs…”

“Don’t start,” he mutters.

I laugh before I can stop myself.

He glances over at me then, and the look in his eyes when he catches me smiling at them is enough to make my pulse trip hard in my throat.

There’s something in that look. Something quiet and warm and too much. Something that says he knows exactly what this is doing to me and isn’t the least bit sorry about it.

Dangerous man. Very dangerous man.

“Coffee’s on the counter,” he says.

I blink once, dragging myself back into the room. “Mine?”