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I don’t even know if Leah realizes how much of an impact she has on Joey. It’s like it just comes naturally to her.
“Oh my gosh, Leah! I have the best idea everrrr!” Joey exclaims. “We should redecorate the whole house like this!”
Leah chokes on a laugh. “Uh…well…I’m not so sure your daddy would be a fan of all this pink and frilly lace.”
“Pretty sure you’re right about that one,” I announce, and both of them look over at me, completely unaware of how long I’ve been standing there.
Leah smirks, and Joey spins around on her feet again.
“Daddy! What do ya think? Isn’t this the most perfect room ever?”
I look around the small space of my daughter’s bedroom, my eyes grazing over the girlie pink and feminine lace and the paintings on the wall with cowgirl hats and cowgirl boots, and I can’t find a single reason to disagree.
“Yep, baby. I’d say this is the most perfect room ever,” I answer and rest one arm on the doorjamb. “Now, are the birthday girls ready to go eat some dinner?”
“Yes!” Joey cheers and stomps out of the room on her boots.
The sound of the screen door slamming shut follows mere seconds later.
“I guess she’s excited about the birthday cake Jenny promised,” Leah comments with a grin.
“Yeah,” I retort, and when she goes to step through the doorway, I surprise her by wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my lips to hers for a deep kiss.
And I don’t pull away until I hear a familiar little moan escape her throat.
“What was that for?” she asks, staring up at me with unfocused eyes.
“It was a little taste of what’s to come.”
Both of her eyebrows shoot up. “What’s to come? As in, tonight?”
I wink at her. “Darlin’, once we eat dinner and have some fuckin’ cake, me and you are gonna spend the rest of the night alone.”
Leah tilts her head to the side. “Alone? As in, just the two of us?”
“Joey will be having a sleepover at her grandparents’ house tonight.”
“Which means, we’re going to have our own sleepover?”
I lean down and press another kiss to her lips. “Yeah, but I don’t plan on either of us doing much sleepin’.”
“Well, hot damn,” she comments with a big ole smile. “This birthday is off to a really good start.”
Oh, you have no fucking idea the things I have in store for you, darlin’.
Ten minutes later, I pull my truck up to the lodge, and Joey gets skeptical.
“Daddy, why are we at the lodge? I thought we were eating dinner at Granny’s house?”
Shit. I didn’t anticipate this one.
Quickly, I rack my brain to find a reasonable answer.
“Uh… Because your granny forgot to get your birthday cake out of the lodge kitchen fridge and asked me to pick it up on the way to their house.”
“Oh,” she says.
“So, we’ll just wait in here?” Leah asks, and I shake my head.
“No, you two are gonna need to come inside and help me carry a few things.”
“What things?” Joey contests. “I thought you said it was just a cake.”
Fucking hell, my kid is too smart for her own good.
“Just get out of the truck and listen to your daddy,” I retort, and my daughter huffs out a sigh.
Leah grins over at me and, thankfully, follows my lead, opening the passenger door to get out. Which then encourages my strong-willed daughter to do the same.
My heart starts racing in my chest as we close the distance to the lodge entrance doors, and I have to force a calming inhale and exhale of oxygen into my lungs.
Fuck. Here’s to hoping Leah likes surprise parties…
Hand to the door, I take another deep breath, and then I open it up, making sure Leah and Joey walk inside before me.
Immediately, the lights turn on and everyone jumps to their feet, shouting, “Surprise!” and “Happy birthday, Joey and Leah!”
“A surprise party! For me!” Joey squeals at the tops of her lungs and rushes over to my mama to wrap her arms around her granny.
Leah just stands there, her eyes wide and unblinking as she looks around the room filled with people and decorations.
When she hasn’t blinked at all in at least thirty seconds, I start to worry that she’s freaked the fuck out.
Or mad.
Or upset.
But when she finally turns to look at me, a moist sheen of emotion illuminating her pretty navy eyes with anything but melancholy, I remember that, sometimes, a woman cries because she’s happy.
“Did you do all this?” she asks, her voice shaking around her words.
“I just wanted to make sure you had a good birthday.”
“Am I seeing things, or is that my brother and Carla and Taylor over there?”
“I might’ve asked them to come down and celebrate with you.”
“Rhett,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “This is… I don’t know… Oh my goodness…” She pauses and then steps forward to wrap her arms tightly around my neck and pull me into a firm hug. “Thank you,” she whispers into my ear and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “This is…well, it’s the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
