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Mo worked his fists open and closed as his expression turned wretched. He’d vowed to stay away from his girls to keep them safe, so to break that rule was visibly tearing him down the middle.
“Will she mind?” he murmured, referring to Jess.
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But she still cries for you from time to time. Regardless of what she says, she misses you badly.”
Mo nodded and inspected his boots. “I left for them.”
“I know.”
His dark eyes cut to mine and held an edge of plea. “I’d like nothing more than to meet him.”
“Cree. His name is Cree.”
“Cree,” Mo echoed, nodding and seemingly pleased.
I flicked my hand. “Come inside, I was just making coffee if you want one?”
He nodded and followed as I returned barefoot to my front door. A harsh curse immediately left my mouth when I opened it to find the forgotten pan smoking with heat. I rushed to turn it off, then returned my attention to Mo edging into the house as if it was the last place on Earth he wanted to be.
He set the gift bags inside against the wall and nodded at them. “Open those later. There’s some for Ashley and Hana too.”
“They’re coming around later this morning,” I supplied needlessly. “So… coffee?”
Fuck, having an actual conversation with him was tense. The last conversation we’d had consisted of me telling him to go fuck himself and him taunting me to stay alive.
“Thanks,” came his single word as he pulled out a seat at the table.
Before I could give Jess a heads up about our visitor, her voice called down the hallway.
“Mace! Something’s burning!” She rushed out with concern set deep between her eyebrows, then did a double-take at Mo sitting poised at the dining table ready to bolt.
The colour drained from her pink-tinted cheeks and her stricken gaze cut to me. “Wha…? What’s he…?”
Panted words refused to form as her eyes snapped back and forth between me and the father she hadn’t seen in nearly two decades.
Her lower lip quivered around a single word. “Dad?”
Mo cautiously rose to his feet and barely took a step toward her. I held my breath, unsure of how this would pan out. It could go either way—both me and Mo sensed that.
“J-bug,” he whispered thickly.
It made Jess crack. The first sob left her chest and looked as painful as it sounded. I moved to her side and she immediately gripped my arm hard; Christmas-coloured nails gouging multiple half-moons into my skin.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I found him outside leaving gifts, so I invited him in to meet Cree, butonlyif it’s okay with you.”
The shock in her doe-eyes faded to give way to gratitude. With a subtle nod of acceptance, she released my forearm and took a tentative step toward her father.
The instant he opened his arms in invitation, Jess flew into them and sobbed her heart out. He clung to her, just as she clung to him, with the most afflicted expression on his ruddy face.
“Christ it feels good to hug you again, J-bug.”
Jess hiccuped a sob. “You too. Merry Christmas, Dad.”
“Merry Christmas.” Mo’s watery eyes lifted to meet mine. “Best goddamn Christmas I’ve had in years.”
I nodded an acknowledgement, then silently excused myself, giving Jess and her father a minute alone while I went to get Cree from his cot.
By the time I returned to the living area, Mo was knuckling away his tears and Jess constantly palmed hers dry.
