She narrowed her gaze. “Are you lying to me?”
“Nope. I know when to ask for help.” He thought about that. “Most of the time, anyway. My big brother is a nosy bastard who is known to pester me until I tell him what I need help with. Some of my guys can be the same,” he said, thinking of Zeke the other night. “But there are times when I don’t ask for help even though I should, when I bottle things up. That’s usually when the nightmares get to me.”
“You have nightmares?”
“Yeah. I was a SEAL, baby. I saw some truly awful things. But some of the worst things that happened were when I got home.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “This really isn’t a conversation to have before breakfast. Come on.” He led her to a breakfast bar stool and lifted her up. He glanced down at her feet with a frown. “Where are your socks?”
“Oh, we didn’t buy any.”
“Right. That was an oversight. We’ll get you some. And some slippers.”
“I don’t need them. I’m fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
He reached down and grabbed one of her feet in his hand. She squealed and had to grab hold of the counter to keep herself from flying backwards. “Kent!”
“Sorry, baby. Your feet are freezing. Of course, you need socks and slippers. We’ll get them later. Along with a few other things you need that we didn’t get. Like hair ties and bath things and any other girly stuff my baby needs.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
“Wait here. I’ll go get some of my socks for you.” He raced upstairs and grabbed a pair of warm socks for her. He strode back into the kitchen and then crouched in front of her. “Foot,” he demanded.
“I can put them on myself.”
“Foot,” he repeated.
She poked her foot out and he slid the sock on. He let that foot go and she held out the next foot before he could ask for it. Strange the sense of satisfaction you could get from making sure your baby had warm feet.
He moved back around the kitchen counter and popped some bread in the toaster. “There anything you’re allergic to?”
“No. Nothing. You didn’t have to cook for me again.”
“Got to make certain my baby is well fed. She needs her energy.” He leered at her playfully, delighting in her giggle.
He buttered some toast then cut it into fingers. He placed a boiled egg in an egg cup and cut off the top before grabbing a teaspoon. “Here you are baby. Toy soldiers.”
She stared down at the plate he put before her like she’d never seen food before.
“You’ve never had toy soldiers before?” he asked.
“No.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat. You grab a piece of toast and dip it in the runny egg yolk, see?” he demonstrated then held the piece of toast to her mouth. “Open up for Daddy.”
Her breath caught but she didn’t protest, opening her mouth so he could feed her.
“That’s my good girl,” he said warmly.
She smiled then took the piece of toast from him and dipped it once more. He grabbed his own plate and they ate in comfortable silence. The peace felt nice. No stress. No worries.
When she finished her cup of coffee, he got up and poured her another one and she smiled her thanks.
“Shoot,” she muttered, pushing away her plate as she glanced at the clock. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I need to get to work, can you take me? Oh no, what am I going to do about a uniform? Both of mine were wrecked. Gloria is going to be furious.”
He frowned at that last statement. Surely Gloria should be more worried over Abby than a couple of uniforms.