Page 23 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

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I watched in sheer terror as the tiny, mutant dog launched itself at my daughter. Keely caught him with a giggle, and Gremlin instantly started licking her face.

“That tickles, puppy,” Keely shrieked, laughing harder as she cuddled him to her. The dog just burrowed into her like he’d found a long-lost friend.

Ellie caught up to me, stopping just short of Keely, doubling over as she panted. “Oh, thank God.” As she straightened, her lips twitched. “Apparently, Gremlin just hates you.”

I scowled at her. “Seriously?”

She shrugged, the motion drawing my attention to what she was wearing. A T-shirt she swam in that exposed long, tan legs and ridiculous, fuzzy purple slippers. But my gaze went right back to the tee. My shirt. The one I’d given her the night she almost set her house on fire.

The worn cotton skimmed over her form like my hands itched to do. It slid to one side, exposing a smooth shoulder, and the thin cotton hugged her breasts in a way that told me Ellie was definitely not wearing a bra. My jeans felt instantly tighter .

Fucking hell.

I squeezed my eyes closed for a second, trying to think of anything but Ellie. My daughter was here, for God’s sake.

“You okay, Chief? You kind of look like you’re having a stroke.”

In for three. Out for three . “I’m fine.”

“Then why are your eyes still closed?” Ellie pressed.

I opened them then, trying desperately to hold on to my mask. “You screamed,” I accused her. And when I heard that strangled sound, I’d instantly had visions of Jasper breaking in and hurting her.

Ellie shifted her weight, rocking on her feet. “I yelped. The doorbell startled me.”

“Why?” I pressed. Something was off. Ellie’s face was paler than normal, and her hands trembled slightly.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I wasn’t expecting anyone to be ringing my doorbell first thing in the morning.”

“We came to make you breakfast,” Keely offered helpfully, now rocking the dog to sleep like one of her dolls. “Breakfasts on Saturdays are the best breakfasts, so you had to get it, too.”

Ellie’s brows rose, and she beamed at Keely, a smile spreading across her face. “Bestie, that is so nice.”

For the first time in my life, I was jealous of my kid. I cleared my throat. “Thought you might like some cooking lessons.”

Ellie’s pale green gaze, even softer in the morning light, turned to me. “I’d like that. Just give me a second to change.”

“Bestie, is that my daddy’s shirt?” Keely asked, all innocence and curiosity.

Ellie’s cheeks flamed, turning a deep pink. “He, um, let me borrow it. And it’s cozy. I’m just going to change.”

She bolted for the stairs, but I had the sudden urge to beat my chest like a damn gorilla. I wanted her to stay in the shirt. To wear it all damn day so a piece of me was with her. God, I needed to get a grip.

“Daddy, it’s so nice that you shared your shirt with Ellie. Maybe you can be besties, too.”

I stared down at my daughter. “Maybe we can, Keels.”

The only problem was that I wanted to be way more than besties .

“What do you think about learning a scramble? If you’re okay eating eggs,” I asked, glancing at Ellie.

She’d changed into black jeans with tears in them that exposed snatches of skin my fingers ached to trace and boots with laces that had me imagining her keeping those on as I— nope . That was a no-go zone.

Keely is sitting at the breakfast table. Keely is sitting at the breakfast table. Keely is sitting at the breakfast table.

“I think that sounds like an ambitious goal, but I’m here for it,” Ellie said with a grin.

“Okay, first things first. Since you’re a veggie-only fan, we need to make sure you’re picking things with enough different flavors.” I gestured to the array on the counter.

Ellie saluted me. “Veggie queen, reporting for duty.”

“I wanna be a veggie queen,” Keely called from where she was coloring with Gremlin on her lap.

“Do you want to give up pepperoni on your pizza?” I asked.

Keely’s face scrunched. “A halfsies veggie queen?”

I chuckled. “That sounds like a plan.” I turned back to our options. “We’ll start with onions and peppers. That gives us a good base. Then, we can add the kale for a little greenery. You’re good with dairy, right?”

Ellie pinned me with a hard stare. “Pry cheese out of my cold, dead hands.”

I barked out a laugh. “Good to know. Now, here’s the secret to cracking eggs. One swift rap on a sharp corner, not too hard, not too soft.”

Ellie pulled the corner of her lip into her mouth, and my fingers twitched at my side. “When I crack eggs, I get a million pieces of shell mixed in,” she admitted.

“Here.” I grabbed an egg, handing it to her.

She took it gingerly as if the egg were a bomb that might explode in her hands .

My lips twitched.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Ellie grumbled.

I held up both hands. “I’d never.” Then I moved in closer, covering her hand with mine. The second my skin touched hers, I realized my mistake. Everything about her was petal soft. But worse, her scent was stronger now. The bergamot and rose wrapped around me like a stranglehold.

“You need to keep a firmer hold.” My voice had gotten deeper, a rasp clinging to the words. “Like this.”

I gripped Ellie’s hand with mine, both of us holding the egg together, then brought it down in one swift rap on the counter’s edge. The egg cracked clean in two.

“Sorcery,” Ellie muttered.

I chuckled, releasing her to spill the contents of the shell into the bowl. “Now, you try.” It took everything in me not to move in again, to cup her hand in mine, to drown in that scent.

Ellie grabbed an egg from the carton, studying it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Firm grip.” Her slender fingers tightened around the egg. “One quick rap.” She brought the egg down on the counter, and it cracked right in two. Not as cleanly as our attempt together, but close.

She let out a squeal as she poured the egg into my bowl. “I cracked an egg without getting one million shell pieces in the mix.”

“You did,” I said with a grin.

She let out a soft giggle. “God, I’m such a nerd, getting excited about cracking an egg.”

“I don’t know. It seems like something to be proud of to me.”

Ellie smiled back at me. “Thanks for teaching me.”

Her phone dinged on the counter, and Ellie moved to quickly wash her hands. The phone let out another ding. Then another. I frowned as she stiffened and crossed to the device. As she studied the screen, her face paled slightly.

“What’s wrong?” I clipped.

Ellie quickly locked the phone, flipping it on silent before shoving it into her pocket. “Nothing. ”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” I pressed. Something had tweaked her. Even now, that slight tremor was back in her hands.

“Just some stuff I still have to sort out in New York. Nothing important.”

It was a lie. Maybe not the New York piece, but the rest. You didn’t go pale over things that weren’t important. Your hands didn’t shake. And you sure as hell didn’t concoct a lie.

Ellie might’ve shared pieces of her story with me, but she wasn’t sharing everything. And something had terrified her.