The Single Dad (The Dalton Brothers 3)

I would never be able to get enough of her.

I cleared my mind with another swig of wine and said, “Once Everly starts school and gets settled, I’d like for just the two of us to get away. I want you to choose where we go.”

She pointed at her chest. “You want me to pick the location?”

I nodded. “Anywhere.”

“Oh, that’s tough. There are so many beautiful places I’d like to see.”

“We can go to all of them.”

“Ford …” She exhaled, and her head dropped. She stayed like that for a moment until she placed her napkin down and got up from her chair. She came over to my side of the table and sat on my lap, wrapping her arm around my neck. “I feel so undeserving of you,” she whispered. “Like this is all a dream that I’m soon going to wake up from.”

“Stop thinking that way.” I rubbed down her spine and up her sides. “You’re mine. Nothing is going to change that.”

As my words resonated, her body stiffened. “I have to tell you something. I don’t know if this will change things. If you’re now going to look at me with disgust …” Her voice trailed off as an eruption of pain deepened her expression. “I don’t even know how to tell you this.” She took in some air, holding it in. “I’ve wanted to. It just never felt like the right time.” She swallowed, her chest rising and falling so fast.

“I know, Sydney.”

She scanned my eyes, searching. “You … know?”

I held her tighter, pressing her side against my chest. “Is this about the interview?”

She nodded.

“About Hannah telling you to apply for the job?”

She nodded again and said, “You really do know.”

I held her cheek, rubbing my thumb across it. “Hannah told me at Everly’s birthday party.”

“I wish I had been the one to tell you.” She tried to look down, and I wouldn’t let her. “I wish I hadn’t been such a coward.”

“You’re not a coward. You’re far from that. Hannah told you not to tell me. That’s an entirely different scenario. You were just doing what she’d asked.”

She was quiet for several seconds. “But I should have been more loyal to you”—her hand went to my chest—“regardless if I promised Hannah or not.”

“Hannah couldn’t believe you didn’t tell me. She’s obviously trusted you from the very beginning. Now, I think she’d be willing to hand you the keys to her life.” I kissed her, needing her to feel some affection.

“But I was wrong. I lied.” Her brows lifted. “And, oh God, I can’t even imagine what you’re thinking. You must be wondering if there are other things I’ve lied about.” Her voice was rising. “Ford, I know my word doesn’t mean much right now, but I swear to you, on Everly’s life, that you know everything. I’ve kept nothing else from you.”

I grabbed her hand off my chest and brought it up to my mouth, kissing the back of each finger. “I don’t think that at all. I trust you.”

“I’m sorry—”

I hugged her against me, holding her as close as I could get her. “It’s over. I don’t want you to give it a second thought.”

She rested into me, silence building between us until she broke it with, “Why didn’t you ask me about it?”

“When Hannah told me, I was going to mention it to you. Discuss it in some way. And then life happened, and it slipped my mind.”

“But … did it really?”

I held her face, so she could look at me. “Listen to me. I’ve learned many things from my daughter and the way she was brought into my life. You can’t judge a person for the decisions they make even if it’s right or wrong in that moment. What matters is how they handle it.” I softened my voice as I said, “You told me the truth, Sydney. Whether it took an hour or a day or a few months is insignificant. Time isn’t always the deciding factor.”

She gazed back and forth between my eyes. “Why are you so forgiving?”

Why?

Fuck, there were so many reasons for that.

Reasons I wasn’t getting into now.

Since I knew we were both done with dessert, unable to fit in another bite, I lifted her off my lap and set her on the deck.

I linked our hands and said, “Come with me.”

I brought her down the long stairway to the beach, where we left our shoes at the very bottom and sank our bare feet into the sand.

We were only a few paces into the waves when I heard the softness of her voice.

“This is so pretty.”

I had known the feel of the water would help change her mood. The saltiness hitting her nose. The grittiness of the beach below her feet.

And she needed to feel my forgiveness, so I held her hand up to my mouth, keeping it there as I replied, “When I usually come here, I’m carrying bags and a cooler and toys and boards and towels—every goddamn thing a five-year-old uses.” I glanced toward the ocean, the sun just starting to dip below the horizon. “I’m so busy riding the waves with her and building sandcastles that I never take a second to really look around.”

“To realize how much you love it.”

I stopped walking and turned toward her.

“How much I love it,” I repeated.

Words that hit me.

Words that triggered a response.