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“We made you a new pillow!” Bailey announces triumphantly.
I’m stunned. “You did?”
She bounces in her chair. “Surprise!”
I look around, expecting to see it wrapped. When I don’t, I ask, “Where is it?”
That’s when Laura answers. “Your room. Bailey wanted it displayed on your bed, so I carried her up there so she could put it just where she wanted it.”
I ruffle my daughter’s hair and announce, “Then why don’t I run upstairs, change, and check out this amazing gift?”
Bailey lurches forward and presses her lips to my cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”
My heart swells. “I love you too, Buttercup.”
I stand, and without a word to Laura, jog up the stairs. The doors to the master suite are partially closed. I push them open and come to a dead stop.
Because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Over my hated king-size pillows are new dark green covered standard pillows. There are cards in Bailey’s handwriting that read “Soft,” “Mediums,” and “Firmy.”
But those aren’t what my fingers dance over.
In the middle is an enormous square pillow made of wool. Embroidered on it is a buttercup. Beneath it is the word “Love.”
Tears burn my eyes.
I guess Caleb was telling the truth earlier. All Laura wanted to know was if Bailey was loved and once she did, she wanted to show me how much my daughter loved me in return.
No judgment.
No questions.
Instead, it’s replaced by an overwhelming need to make her understand.
Quickly, I shed my clothes where I stand, not giving a damn about hanging up my suit. I tug on jeans and a T-shirt and head back downstairs, ready to give answers to any questions she asks and to ask a few questions of my own.
Chapter
Forty-Two
I’m in trouble when Bailey grows up, if the way she’s playing Laura is any indication.
“Oh, pleaaaaaase?” Bailey pleads, full drama. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a tear or two watering up in her eyes. Bailey throws herself forward, her head landing on Laura’s breasts. The image the two of them make causes my heart to twist.
Her eyes meet mine over my daughter’s head.
For a heartbeat, an eternity, no words are spoken between us. I hold her gaze steadily, trying to communicate without words what I want and what we need.
Her. Just her.
Laura’s gaze doesn’t waiver, even as she smooths Bailey’s hair away from her face.
I could live in this moment feeling more emotion surging through me than I had in years—except maybe the first time I held Bailey days after Ashleigh gave birth to her and I knew she was mine.
Finally, Laura relents. Her lips curve into a smile. “Okay. Fine. I’ll stay for dinner.”
“Then during it, you’ll tell us all about your family’s elephant gift?” Bailey barters, confusing a story Laura and her aunt must have been telling her earlier today while they were making my pillows.