Page 91 of Daddy's Muse

Pappa laughed fondly and handed me a set of little wooden blocks from the toy chest he’d pulled close. I started stacking them, clumsy but focused, while he steadied my hands when they wobbled.

“Lookie, Pappa,” I said proudly when I managed three high.

“Good job, baby.” He kissed my temple, his gaze adoring and proud, like my little tower was the best thing he’d ever seen.

I hugged the wolf tighter, leaning back into my Pappa with a contented sigh.

“What’s his name?” Pappa asked kindly.

“Hmm,” I hummed, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes at the stuffie. “He looks like a Frank.”

Pappa chuckled from behind me, an amused grin on his face. “Nice to meet you, Frank.”

I giggled, wiggling my butt as I helped introduce Frank to Pappa. “Frank, this is Pappa. He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole wide world—yes, seriously!”

Pappa’s arms curled around me, sure and unshakable. “Thank you for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Silly Pappa! It’s just the truth,” I proclaimed.

Frank got a big smooch on his cute, fuzzy nose before I hugged him close again. My cheeks hurt from grinning so hard, but I didn’t care. I was too full of love, of happiness, of safety.

Pappa’s big hand rubbed slow circles over my tummy, the motion so soothing I almost melted right into him. “Do you want me to read you a story in here, lille prinsen?” he asked.

My eyes went wide, darting toward the little shelf I’d just noticed tucked inside the tent, stacked with picture books. “There’s books, too?”

“Mhm.” His voice rumbled against my back. “Picked out all your favorites. And some new ones.”

I squealed, bouncing a little in his lap, which made him laugh with unbridled joy. He plucked one from the shelf—The Hat, with its beautiful illustrated cover—and held it where I could see.

“Storytime with Pappa,” I whispered, hugging Frank and wriggling until I was curled up sideways against his chest. He opened the book, his deep voice gentle and steady as he began to read.

I traced the pictures with my finger, following along and sometimes interrupting to point out something. “That’s me, Pappa, look! I like snow too.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Yes, baby. That’s you.”

By the time the book was finished, my body felt loose and floaty, my eyes heavy from the warmth of him and the soft glow of the lights.

“Pappa?” I mumbled sleepily, nuzzling under his chin.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you. For my room. For… everything.” My voice cracked on the last word.

His arms tightened, cocooning me. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, Colby. You’re my heart.”

I sighed, clutching Frank closer, letting Pappa’s words settle deep into me.

Sitting in my tent with my stuffie and my Pappa, I didn’t feel scared at all.

I felt home.

No.

I was home.