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“Of course!” I lean forward kissing his lips and pressing my cheek to his. “It wasn’t your fault.”
His brow furrows, and he shakes his head as if he can’t accept what I’m saying. “Our daughter wants me to be a hero. I don’t know how to tell her that’s something I’ll never be.”
My insides tremble, and I can’t let him believe this. I don’t know how to make him hear me, and I can see this burden is so heavy, it almost took him from me completely.
“Our daughter will love you no matter what. Because you love her unconditionally.”
He exhales a heavy sigh. “I’ll never be her hero.”
“Never is a long time.”
30
Taron
“You have to go to the cotillion. It’s to raise money for the parish library!” Mindy leans on the bar, but Noel is shaking her head and stirring a saucepan of pralines.
“Christmas orders are through the roof. I’ve got to finish shopping, and everybody’s coming here for dinner. I don’t have time to find a dress, get my hair done—”
I give my daughter a little nudge from inside the living room, and she springs into action. “Mamma, look at me! Look at me!”
Dove twirls into the kitchen in that pink and purple tutu, only now she’s wearing a headband with white mouse ears and carrying a stick with a ribbon attached to the end. She does the steps we’ve been learning by pausing and rewinding the opening to her favorite show, and I know she’s mine, but she’s really adorable.
I’d name her Princess Peach today.
“Oh, my goodness!” Noel puts her hand on her chest and kneels briefly. “It’s Angelina Ballerina!”
Dove continues hopping side to side, tapping her heels together in the air, and swirling her wand with the ribbon over her head, and I laugh, clapping as I enter the room. She runs to me, and I do the lift, holding her up as she extends her arms and legs briefly before sitting on my hip.
“That does it.” Mindy claps, shaking her head and laughing. “I want you to be my dad, too.”
Noel’s voice is teasing. “You already have a daddy.”
“Who’s Miss Mindy’s daddy?” Dove’s brow furrows, and she looks curiously at her mother’s friend.
Noel arches a brow. “Mr. Deacon.”
“You have got to stop with that.” Mindy shoves her friend’s arm.
Dove frowns at me. “He’s not her daddy!”
I frown right back. “This is getting weird.”
Noel lets out a little yip. “Shoot! It’s time…” She moves the pot off the fire. “Quick! Hand me that pan.”
Mindy grabs a large, metal cookie sheet, and we watch as she spoons little clumps of the caramel-brown pecan and butter mixture onto it.
“I almost burned the pralines.”
“Serves you right.” Mindy turns to me. “Tell her she has to go to the cotillion.”
“What do you say, babe?” I look over at my girl dressed in jeans that hug her sexy ass and a chunky white sweater. She slides the band out of her dark hair and shakes it out over her shoulder. It makes me want to invent an excuse to get her alone.
“I’ve got to get these over to Pine Hills.” Noel walks to where I’m standing, holding our little girl, who’s twirling her ribbon wand. “You’re still helping me bring Miss Jessica to the store, right?”
“I’m ready when you are.”
She takes Dove out of my arms. “Go get changed.”
