Seeing she’d sent the text a half hour ago had him wishing he’d kept his phone on him.It was almost eleven.Was it too late to respond?He typed and deleted a half dozen responses before he finally hit Send.
She’s better and sleeping.Thank you for your help tonight.
It felt too short and impersonal.He ran a hand over his hair.He’d been so preoccupied with taking care of Delilah, he hadn’t been able to think about what had happened before his daughter got sick.
But now that she was sleeping peacefully, there was nothing stopping him from replaying every second that had stretched out between them.It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour—that part didn’t really matter.It’d been the way Maggie had responded to him…
He brushed his thumb along the tip of his fingers, almost as if he could still feel her there.
He pressed his eyes shut, but it didn’t blot out the way she’d looked at him.It’d been a damn good thing he’d been sitting down because she’d basically knocked the ground out from beneath him.He’d been so caught up in her.Theshift of emotions on her face, her uneven breathing and flushed cheeks, the way she’d bit her lower lip when he’d stared too long at her mouth.
He’d never wanted to kiss someone the way he wanted to kiss Maggie.He’d ached for it—for her.And, damn it all, she’d wanted him, too.There was no denying they’d both felt it.
The question was, would she try?Would she want to pretend nothing happened and hold on to this “friends only” thing?And, if she did, could he go back and pretend he hadn’t damn near drowned in wanting her?
He almost dropped the phone when it vibrated.Maggie had answered.
I’m so glad she’s okay.You should get some sleep, too.You can’t take care of her if you don’t take care of yourself.
He read and reread the message.Was she giving him parenting advice or worried about him?He shook his head.What the hell was wrong with him?Why was he picking apart each and every word?Another text rolled in.
I’ll be around tomorrow, if you need anything.
That was encouraging, wasn’t it?Before he could respond she sent another.
Or not.I’m sure you’ve got things covered.Good night.
He frowned at his phone.Well, hell, he didn’t know what to make of any of that.He almost set his phone aside but decided to send a final text.He typed it, stared at it for a solid minute, then hit Send.
Sweet dreams, Maggie.
He set the phone on his dresser and headed into his bathroom.All he could do now was take a long, hot shower and get some shut-eye.He was making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.At the moment, he was too tired to figure out why that was.But tomorrow, when he was clearheaded, he’d figure all this out.
The shower was long and hot but it didn’t relax him.
Sleep eluded him almost entirely.He’d finally dozed off when his alarm jolted him awake.But rolling over to find Delilah asleep beside him gave him an excuse to stay put.He wasn’t ready to face the day—or the persistent questions and confusion that had taken over his brain since his text exchange with Maggie.
He closed his eyes but it was no use.Growing up on a ranch meant rising with the sun.Since the sunlight was streaming through his curtains, there was no hope for him.
“Daddy?”Delilah whispered.“You awake?”
“No,” he whispered back.“I’m dreaming.”
“’Bout what?”
“About you waking me up so I can make you pancakes.”He smiled.
“I do wike pamcakes.”She poked his cheek.“Are you reawwy sweeping?”
“I’m sound asleep.”He nodded, sliding one hand out from under the blanket so he could tickle her sides.His little girl was super ticklish.
“Daddy!”She squealed, her laughter ringing out and putting a smile on his face.“Wake up and stop it.”
He stopped tickling her and opened his eyes.“Delilah?When did you get here?”
“Daddy.”She giggled.“You are so funny.”She rubbed her eyes with her fists.“Are we having pancakes?”
“How’s your tummy?”That would decide what breakfast looked like.
