Page 124 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

She rubs my chin, which is no longer hurting except for how hard she’s rubbing. I take her hand, fold it in mine, and kiss her knuckles. “Remember I said I thought we could build a tree up into my loft? With a little platform you could hide on and pounce from? And I said we’d do that in September for your half-birthday?”

She nods, her eyes getting wider with each word.

“And it’s September now, isn’t it?”

A huge grin breaks across her face. “We’z build a tree?”

“We build a tree,” I confirm. “I contacted the decorator who did my apartment while I was in England. She said she’d come as soon as I got back to take measurements, but she sent me some preliminary designs already. I think you’ll love them, baby.”

“Oppa, a pouncing tree! That will be so much fun.”

I tuck her into my side and steer her into the kitchen where Emily and Logan are waiting. “It will. And that’s just the start of all the fun we’re going to have.”

She sighs happily.

Emily offers us iced tea. Although the idea of tea makes my British PTSD twitch, I take it, happy for something cold. Although the worst of the summer heat passed while I was freezing my balls off across the Atlantic, the September evening’s a sauna in comparison to deepest, chilliest Devon.

“You’re staying the night, right?” Logan asks as we’re all sipping our drinks.

I glance at Cynnie, who smiles at me. She’s happy with whatever decision I make. Although I’m eager for my own bed, I’ve had enough traveling for one day. And I know what’s really behind Logan’s question. He wants me under his roof tonight, where he knows I’m safe. I could argue that I’m safer at my place, but Logan really does have his townhouse zipped up tight.

“Yeah, we will,” I say. “Your family knows you’re out overnight, baby?”

Cynnie nods. “And that I won’t be back tomorrow. I told Papa and Baachan and texted Jun.”

I kiss her forehead. “Good girl.”

Emily asks me about the trip and I regale them with stories of De Leon’s questionable takeout choices until the time change catches up with me and I can’t stifle my yawns anymore.

Logan claps me on the shoulder. “You must be shattered, mate. Take first crack at the bathroom. Shout if you need anything.”

“Thanks, man.”

Logan squeezes lightly. “Thank you, Maxie. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

I shift so I can give him a one-armed hug. He holds me long enough that I know he’s remembering our text exchange after Isaw the little pond where Nicholas Porter drowned. He releases me before it gets awkward.

Emmy rushes in for a hug as soon as Logan steps back. “I’m so glad you’re home safe.”

I give her a squeeze before handing her back to Logan. “Me, too, Em. I didn’t have much time for sightseeing, but I spent an hour or two at Exeter Cathedral. I thought you might like the pictures I took. Maybe for a book?”

She claps her little hands together. “I’d love them. I’ve never been to Exeter.”

“I’ll upload them to the Cloud account I set up for you and Lo. Night-night, girlie.”

“Night-night, Max.” She leans in and gives Cynnie a big hug. “Cinnamon rolls for breakfast.”

Cynnie squees, which makes me laugh.

“Cinnamon rolls? Now those can’t be good forsomeone’scholesterol,” I toss over my shoulder as I lead Cynnie away.

“Shut yer face, mate,” Logan growls. “All that take-away? Your cholesterol’swayhigher than mine right now.”

I chuckle at him.

I grab our bags as we pass through the hallway. Cynnie wore her black sack, which is hanging on a coat hook, and brought an oversized backpack embroidered with flights of grinning bees.

“This new, baby?” I ask as we climb the stairs.