Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove 9)

Sami let out a burble, and I lifted my gaze to her, smiling as she gazed up at me so trustingly. “I don’t want you to grow up without a mom like I did, baby girl. You deserve so much more than I had. You deserve Bee. But maybe I don’t deserve her. She’s so much smarter than I am, and she’s used to having a family. I’m used to being alone. I thought I liked it, but I don’t. I don’t want an empty house anymore.”

I rubbed Samantha’s porcelain cheek, pleased when she tried to grab my finger. I moved closer and she tried again, succeeding this time. Like the Grinch, my heart swelled three times bigger.

“We’ll have to watch that together, Sami. You’ll love it. The old cartoon one, I mean. None of this new stuff with Jim Carrey. The first one is a classic. I wasn’t quite as bad as the Grinch. I didn’t hate Christmas. I just didn’t love it.”

I hadn’t known how.

Even that was changing. Everything was. Especially me.

“I told Bee I couldn’t go to the tree lighting because of work. It’s true. I’m working. But I scheduled that shift after she asked. All those families together, all that sweetness makes my teeth ache. I was smug and superior and didn’t need any of that. Now she’s going to go with someone else.”

I fought to get a Pampers out of the box one-handed because I liked the feel of that little finger clutching mine too much. The diaper got stuck and the box fell over with a crash, sending Sadie flying back into the room as the baby started to cry.

“Aww, sweetie, you’re okay. Daddy’s just having a bad day.” I picked her up and jiggled her on my hip, wondering if it was safe to dance her around the room with Sadie dogging our heels when the kid had a bare bottom.

I was suddenly very glad she wasn’t male.

She was still crying, looking absolutely pitiful. What the hell? No one else was here but Sadie, and she couldn’t complain about my singing.

I ran through my arsenal of remembered songs quickly as I carted her downstairs to make up a bottle. I started with “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall”, which led to “London Bridge” and “Hotel California”. That one I definitely flubbed the lyrics in the second half, but the baby seemed oddly fascinated by my voice. It was raspy and deep and not at all melodic.

Luckily, she couldn’t throw tomatoes.

Sadie kept trying to jump up to check on her while I moved around the kitchen. She settled once I leaned down to show her the baby was fine, and Samantha let out one of her heart-melting hiccupy giggles when Sadie delicately licked her chin.

I kept singing as I got the bottle ready, landing on “Another Brick in the Wall” this time. Gina had taught me not to microwave the formula since the liquid didn’t heat evenly. I warmed up the bottle under the running water and then headed back upstairs to hurriedly put a diaper on her—she was still pee-free, thankfully—and dress her in one of her selection of fuzzy fleece winter onesies, this one decorated with fat white owls. I lifted her up and she giggled, especially when I tucked her and her bottle in the second swing I’d bought for upstairs.

Slowly but surely, the guest room I’d used as an office was turning into a nursery. The blue and brown walls didn’t work for a baby though, so I’d have to head down to the hardware store and pick out some paint. Maybe a soft yellow and spring green? I didn’t want to go with the usual so-called girl colors. She should have a rainbow to choose from.

Hmm. Rainbow walls would be cool. I wasn’t exactly sure how to paint that since my artistic talent was nil, but I supposed I could check out YouTube for ideas on that too.

I turned on the mobile and Sadie trotted over to check on Sami, nosing at her blanket as if to ensure she was properly tucked in. Sami fumbled for Sadie as she always did, and the dog laid her head on the edge of the swing as the colors in the mobile flashed and music played merrily.

I grinned as I dug out my phone from my pocket. I should show Gina—

No. You should let her be. You made your decision tonight.

But I still took the photo anyway and sent it to my dad. He usually went to bed pretty early, but I figured he could look at it when he got up.

He didn’t know what to make of being a grandfather. That was my fault entirely with my clumsy reveal. In time though, he’d grow into the role. I had faith.

I turned on the baby monitor I’d picked up a few days ago and went to my room to fiddle with the receiver. The buzz of the phone in my pocket startled me, and I answered on the second ring.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You texted me, didn’t you? That baby is pretty is a picture.”

I sat on my bed. Hearing the warmth in his voice was a relief. I just didn’t want anyone else to close themselves off to her like her biological mother had done. Even knowing I’d made it harder on my dad to accept this situation didn’t lessen my worry for Samantha.

“She is. She’s smart too. She watches everything.”

“Sounds like her dad. What’s going on with you and Gina?”

“Nothing.” I shut my eyes. “Because of me.”

“Since when? Sure looked like something at dinner.”

“I’m the sheriff. It’s my number one responsibility—” I paused. “God, it’s not anymore, is it? Samantha is. The town is second.”