Page 59 of The One

I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at my lips. “Yeah?”

“You know why?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wouldn’t ask justanyoneto take me for a pedicure and to paint their toes pink. I only ask people I love extra much. Like you.”

As soon as my phone started to ring, I turned it to silent and quietly held the cell up to my ear, hearing Ridge say, “How’s my girl?” the moment the call connected.

“Are you really checking up on us?”

I kept my voice down even though I didn’t have to. Daisy could sleep through a goddamn hurricane.

“Checking up? No. If that were the case, I would have called a lot earlier than nine at night. But am I inquiring? Yes. I fucking miss her, all right? Jana had her all week, and you have her tonight. I feel like I haven’t seen my baby in months.”

“We had a hell of a good time today. She kicked my ass in Putt-Putt andsomehowconvinced me to go for pedicures because she simply couldn’t survive another minute unless her toes were pink and sparkly?—”

“Hold on.Yougot a pedicure?”

“Do you honestly think she gave me a choice?”

He laughed. “Man, she has you whipped. Keep going.”

“Dinnertime hit, and the princess demanded tacos, so that was what we had, followed by a movie. She made it a solid tenminutes before she fell asleep in my theater room, and that’s where she currently is, passed out on my chest.”

I popped a red Starburst into my mouth since Daisy had eaten all the pink ones. My home theater was stocked with all her favorite candy since, apparently, this was as much her house as it was mine.

“Don’t tell me you made the tacos?”

“Fuck no. You know me better than that.” As her head lay on me, her tiny snores vibrating against my chest, I gently brushed the curls off her cheek.

“Wait until she asks for an egg burrito for breakfast—that’s been her favorite lately. Or French toast—her second choice with warmed-up syrup and cinnamon butter.”

“Jesus,” I groaned. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

“The kid likes good food. What can I say? She has my palate.”

I thought about the conversation I’d had with Daisy over pedicures, when she’d called my brother’s sandwiches jiggly.

What the fuck is jiggly?

“It’s a good thing our chef will be here in the morning,” I said, reminding myself to have a talk with him and make sure he was the one who took over lunch-making duty. “That’s a project he can tackle, not me.”

“What time do you want me to pick her up?”

I paused the movie since this conversation was lasting longer than I’d thought it would. “I can drop her off. I’ll text you in the morning and figure out a time. It won’t be early. Daisy and I will be sleeping in.”

“If you can get her to sleep past seven, it’ll be a miracle.”

“You don’t know the power of Uncle ’Ett.”

He laughed.

But there was other noise in the background, sounds that told me he was on the road.

“Where are you?” I asked. “I can tell you’re driving somewhere.”

“A place I probably shouldn’t be.”