Page 110 of Daddies' Holiday Toy

He grabs the cans and whiskey bottle, I collect the food containers.

It’s oddly domestic, the two of us moving in quiet sync.

Me tossing a box into the trash at the same moment he drops the cans into the recycling bin and dumps the rest of the whiskey bottle in the sink.

There’s no need to coordinate, we just do it. Seamlessly.

When the last of Liam’s mess is picked up, we sink down onto the couch together and sag into each other.

The cushions dip under our weight, and for the first time all night, Reece lets out a long, heavy sigh.

“Jack can be kind of abrasive, so I’m not surprised they got into it over something. Usually it’s not this bad, though. Jack tends to butt heads with all of us at some point.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw.

I curl my legs underneath me, leaning back to look at him. “I think he’s misunderstood.”

That gets me one brow raised, skeptical but curious.

“I mean, yeah, he can be a little abrasive and rough, but I think it comes from wanting to keep the peace and prevent things from blowing up. Like…here’s an example. When he tried to keep you guys from pursuing me, it was because he knew it would create a giant problem with my dad if he ever found out.”

He nods slowly. “True.”

I shrug. “I don’t think Jack means for his words to come out as harsh as they do. It’s just a bad delivery. If you listen to what he’s actually saying, it’s not that bad. Gotta read between the lines.”

Reece studies me for a long moment, head tilted slightly. “You’re a lot more emotionally mature than most people your age. You know that?”

I snort. “Kinda sounds like you didn’t expect me to be.”

“It’s not like that. I mean you’ve got a unique perspective on things. Not many people would be able to understand what you do. I think that’s really special.”

I shrug, staring down at my hands in my lap, fingers twisting together.

“I mean, I grew up with a single mom, so I had to get good reading between the lines. She did everything for me, but it was hard. She didn’t get a lot of support from my dad, so we were always on our own. I mean, he came in and out at times, but he never stayed for long. Not enough for us to ever really benefit from it. By the time we got used to him being there, he was gone again. So, I made sure whatever emotional support my mom needed, I gave it to her.”

Reece’s jaw tightens. His fingers curl lightly against his knee, a quick flash of what looks like anger flickering across his face.

“What?” I ask.

He exhales through his nose, leaning back just enough that his head tips against the couch.

“I really regret not saying something to him back then. I just…we all let it slide for years. I didn’t realize how bad it was until recently looking back on it. I can’t fathom doing something like what your dad did to my own kids.” He shakes his head, his eyes flicking away. “It’s hitting me how complacent I’ve been. I’m sorry, Holly. You never should’ve had to deal with any of that.”

The apology catches me off guard. I tilt my head. “Are you worried about being that way with your kids?”

His gaze drops to his hands again.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “Even though I get them for the whole summer and on most holidays, there are days I wonder if they feel like I’m missing too much. Like I’m…half in, half out, even if I’m doing my best. I don’t want to be anything like Carson, but I worry I am without realizing it.”

I shift closer to him on the couch, my hand brushing over his thigh.

“You’re not like him, Reece. You worry about doing right by them. My dad never did. That’s at least ten times better in my book.”

The lines around his eyes soften when he looks at me again. “You really believe that?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, searching for any doubt in me.

He won’t find it.