Page 97 of Hold Me Tight

“Want breakfast, ladybug?”

She hums happily against my shoulder as I carry her to the kitchen and settle her in the highchair. Once she’s occupied with a few toys, I pull ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. Eggs, milk, cinnamon, and bread. All the necessary ingredients for French toast. Nora babbles away, mimicking me with her own invisible bowl and spoon.

I want mornings like this forever.

Fifteen minutes later, footsteps pad across the hardwood, and I glance up to find Callie. She’s barefoot, sleepy-eyed, and wearing one of my old T-shirts that hits mid-thigh. Her hair is still tangled, and the sight of her slams into me like a freight train.

She pauses in the doorway like she doesn’t know where she fits in this picture.

But to me, it’s obvious.

She belongs right in the middle of it.

“Morning,” I offer, flipping a slice of toast onto a plate.

“Morning.” She runs her fingers through her messy hair. “You made French toast?”

“Oh, I think you earned it,” I say, unable to stop the slow smile that tugs at my mouth. “Sit down. I’ve got this.”

She hesitates for a beat before lowering herself into a chair. Her smile is small and a little unsure, but there’s something genuine blooming behind it.

Nora’s too busy devouring her breakfast to notice the shift, but then she grins at me with syrup smeared across her cheeks and shouts, “Mo!”

When we both laugh, Nora pauses, blinking like she’s not sure what’s funny and then giggles anyway. The sound of it fills the kitchen, wrapping around me and squeezing until I don’t know how I’ll ever go back to my life before this.

Before her.

Before them.

This right here feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.

And if this isn’t what family looks like, I’m not sure it exists.

All I know is I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it.

When the plates are empty and stacked in the sink, the warm hum of the morning gives way to the press of the day ahead. Callie glances at the clock and exhales. “I should head to the bakery. I’ve been MIA way too long.”

I nod, even though a part of me wants her to stay. “You go. I’ve got cleanup.”

She gives me a smile before scooping Nora into her arms with practiced ease and walking toward the hallway. Just before she disappears, I remember the gift I picked up at the mall.

“Wait,” I call out.

She pauses before turning, curiosity filling her eyes as she meets my gaze.

“I have something for you.”

Her brows arch in surprise. “For me?”

“And Nora.”

I reach under the counter for the plastic shopping bag. My palms are slick with nerves as uncertainty twists in my gut.

Callie shifts Nora to her hip, balancing her effortlessly as she crouches to set her down. With one hand steadying her daughter, she reaches for the bag, peeking inside like she’s not sure what she’s about to find before pulling out a tiny Railers jersey that’s Nora-sized, complete with my name stretched across the back in bold block letters.

She stills, fingertips brushing over the stitched fabric. Her eyes widen before she looks up to meet mine. “River…”

“There’s more.” My pulse hammers in my ears, knowing exactly what this means, what I’m saying without doing it out loud.