Page 8 of The Maverick’s Forever Home (Montana Mavericks: Behind Closed Doors #2)

“But I wike you wots and wots. I do.” Delilah gave her grandfather another hug.

The old man closed his eyes and gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’re mighty fond of you, too, Delly-girl.” His father’s voice was gruff.

“How about you try them on?” Lionel patted her on the shoulder.

“’Kay.” Delilah ran back across the room, sat on the floor and pulled her boots on. She hopped up, stared down at her feet and spun in a circle. “Wook.” She jumped up and down. “Wook, Daddy.”

“I see you.” He nodded, delighted. “You look good.”

“A little cowgirl in the making,” Miles said as he sat forward, watching Delilah spin.

“You’ll be riding a horse before you know it.” This from Hayes.

“It’ll have to be just the right horse for Delly.” Their father’s brow had slipped back into its familiar scowl. “Nothing too high-spirited.”

Once again, Braden exchanged a look with his siblings. This version of their father was going to take some getting used to.

“Don’t worry, Dad.” Rylee laughed. “Not a one of us would risk Delly.”

“Do you like horses?” Miles’s wife, Renee, moved to sit on the floor beside Delilah. Her yellow Lab, Buddy, followed and lay at Renee’s side. He was a service dog, trained to alert her to sudden—and potentially dangerous—shifts in her blood sugar.

“I dunno.” Delilah shrugged.

All eyes swiveled Braden’s way. “I know.” He held up his hands.

Delilah was five years old and she’d never met a horse, let alone sat in the saddle.

That was pretty much unheard of in these parts—certainly for anyone living on End of the Road Ranch.

“There’s no rush. Montana and Florida are two very different states, and Delilah’s still getting settled in. ”

“No fwip-fwops.” Delilah sighed. “No sand and no waves. It’s cold. I don’t like cold.”

Which silenced the room. Winters in Montana were cold—the sort of cold that cut to the bone. There was no way around it.

“Hot chocolate chases off the cold.” His father rubbed his hands together. “With extra marshmallows.”

“The only way,” Hayes agreed.

“And fresh from the oven cookies, too.” Rylee patted her stomach. “Gingerbread, sugar cookies, snickerdoodles—you name it. Mom—your gramma—loves to bake cookies.”

Norma nodded. “You can help with the baking, if you like?”

Delilah was smiling again. “Yes, pwease.”

“We’ll find you a real pretty coat, gloves and hat so you stay toasty warm.” His father sat back and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Order something online.”

“Online?” Rylee echoed.

“You’re going to order online?” Miles glanced at Braden, his eyes widening. “You?”

Their father didn’t like the internet. He didn’t like computers or smartphones or tablets. He thought technology was a way for people to “rob you blind.”

“Knock it off.” Their father’s scowl deepened. “One of you will do the ordering for me.”

That got them all laughing.

Tonight was going better than Braden had expected.

Delilah loved the fried chicken for dinner.

His mother had delighted his little girl with her homemade vanilla cake with strawberry icing.

With any luck, things would only get better from here.

After all, they had things like the Pumpkin Spice Festival, the Tenacity Holiday Hoedown and their first Christmas together to look forward to—and build memories.

“How was school today?” their mother asked. “Was it nice having your daddy there with you?”

“Yeah. I’m not sad anymore.” She smiled at him. “Daddy can remember what kind of cupcakes I wike next year.”

That was a gut punch. He felt it—and it hit hard. If he needed further confirmation that he was failing at this whole fatherhood thing, there it was. Delilah was too young to play games or try to manipulate him—she only spoke the truth. Which made her words hurt that much more.

“Did you do anything special?” His mother tried again, her smile more pinched now.

“I got a birthday sticker and hat.” Delilah squished up her face. This was her “thinking hard” face. “And I made a new friend. It was his birthday, too. His name is Cody. Oh, Cody’s pretty mommy.”

Delilah paused before saying, “Daddy’s gonna call Cody’s mommy for a pway date.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Thoughts of Maggie Cooper had cropped up several times over the course of the day. He wouldn’t mind seeing Maggie again. For a playdate or, maybe possibly, a date-date.

Wait a minute . No. He was in absolutely no position to think about dating or relationships right now—or to spend too much time thinking about the woman when his family was sitting here, watching his every move and expression.

“Cody? And Cody’s pretty mom?” Miles’s grin was full of mischief.

Braden rolled his eyes. This whole line of conversation needed to stop.

“Yep. Cody’s mama and my daddy talked bunches, and she was nice and she had wots of cur-l hair.”

Well, damn. Delilah hadn’t exactly misrepresented things; she’d just been…honest. Too honest. And, yep, a glance at Miles, then Hayes, confirmed his fears. His brothers were going to interrogate him about this and have some fun while doing it—he could see it on their faces.

“Bunches, huh?” Miles asked.

“That’s what I heard.” Hayes nodded, rubbing his hands together. “Lots and lots.”

“What did you talk bunches about?” Now even his brother-in-law, Shep, was razzing him.

“And does Cody’s mom have a husband?” Rylee asked. “What? Don’t look at me like that, Mom. We are all wondering.”

Braden shot his sister a warning look. Now was not the time for this.

“Nope.” Delilah shook her head. “Cody said she don’t have a husband.”

“Cody said that?” Miles chuckled. “Interesting how that came up in your conversation.”

Braden cleared his throat. “You know—”

“What else did Cody say?” Hayes cut him off.

“Stuff.” Delilah yawned. Her eyelids were getting heavy—a telltale sign it was close to bedtime. “I wiked Cody and his mom. And Daddy wikes them, too.” Delilah picked up her doll, carried it to Braden and climbed up into his lap. She leaned back into his chest and yawned again. “Right, Daddy?”

That was a loaded question. No matter how he answered it, there’d be consequences.

He’d rather focus on the way his little girl had climbed up and settled into his lap.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And, in a way, it was. But it was times like this, when she did something that showed him she’d accepted him—that she was comfortable with him—that gave him hope.

“Daddy?” Delilah reached up to pull one of his arms around her and burrowed against his chest. “Wight?”

Dammit all . “Right.” Braden smoothed her hair back from her face and ignored the curious stares of his family.

“But I like anyone who’s nice to you, Delilah.

” With that, he hoped they’d drop it. The last thing he needed was his mother and sister reading into things, getting excited and planning his wedding.

Now that he had Delilah, him being single was a serious concern for his mother in particular.

“It was polite conversation. Nothing to get worked up over.” He shot his siblings, then parents a hard look.

From the way Hayes laughed and Rylee rolled her eyes, he could tell they weren’t going to drop this. Thankfully, Delilah saved the day by falling sound asleep in his lap.

“I need to get her to bed.” He scooped her up and stood.

“I’ll help clean up in a sec.” He headed out of the living room and down one of the hallways that led to the rooms he and Delilah were staying in.

Like Hayes and Chrissy, he was remodeling one of the old houses on the ranch—a place he and Delilah could call home.

But until the renovations on the Old Settler’s Cabin were finished, they were living under the same roof as his parents and Miles and Renee.

He tugged off Delilah’s boots and tucked the thick quilt around her.

The little thing slept so hard, she didn’t stir.

“Happy birthday, Delilah,” he whispered.

He stared down at his little girl. His. She was his daughter.

There were times that realization still knocked him for a loop—and sent a thousand emotions pressing in on him.

“Sweet dreams.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and left the room.

Helping with the post-celebration cleanup didn’t require much thought so his mind wandered…to Maggie Cooper. Again. Since the slip of paper with her phone number on it was damn near burning a hole in his pocket, he pulled it out.

“What’s that?” Miles asked.

“Nothing.” He shoved the paper back into his pocket.

“Uh-huh. Right.” His brother chuckled. “What are you thinking about?”

Maggie. He was thinking about Maggie. And not because he was curious, dammit, but because he was interested.

And, possibly—no, probably—he was interested in more than just her parenting advice.

It was stupid. He knew better. He knew he had nothing to offer a woman like her.

Calling her would be a mistake. With a shake of his head, he said, “I’m thinking I’m about to make a big mistake. ”