I Love You, I Hate You: Part 2

Seeing as I don’t exist in my daughter’s eyes, I plop on the couch cushion nearest Dad. “Thanks for watching her last night. She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

“Not at all.” Tessa hands Dad a coffee and sits on the armrest of his chair. “Anytime you need a sitter, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks.” I’m not offering anything until I get home and grill Molly about her stay. Even if Dad was home, I don’t trust Tessa as far as I can throw her.

“We should get going,” Logan says, saving me from incriminating myself.

Tessa's brows arch. “You guys came together?”

Logan holds Molly in one arm and grabs her backpack with the other. “It’s called co-parenting, Mom. You know, that thing you and Dad could never figure out how to do.”

31

Logan

It’s been four days since I’ve seen Danika or Molly. Night shift is rough. Around two o’clock I’m dying, ready to pass out in my cruiser. By the time shift changes at seven, all I can think about is my bed. I sleep until five-thirty and then do it all over again. It’s a vicious cycle that sucks your life away.

Not today. Today is the first of my two days off, and while I’m dog tired, I know if I don’t ask Danika about the picnic today, tomorrow will be too late. I grab the bouquet of yellow daisies and the pink gift bag that’s been sitting in an Amazon box since Tuesday. The fact that I can order something and it comes wrapped is fucking amazing.

“Hey!” Danika says, whipping the door open before I can knock. ”What are you doing here?”

Molly slips around her and runs toward me. I pick her up with my free arm and swing her around once. Molly’s high pitched squeal echoes on the porch. I love her laugh. It’s pure and innocent and perfect. Danika crosses her arms, smiling at us.

“I missed my girls.” I’ve yet to openly call Danika mine, but come on. Even if she’s not willing to admit it, she always has been. Always will be. “FaceTime and text messages weren’t cutting it.”

If she and Molly lived with me I could spend a few minutes with them every morning when I'm on this rotation. I know we aren’t there yet, but I have a feeling it won’t be long. Even if Danika turns down the offer, when I finally make it, I’ll keep trying. Sooner or later she’ll stop being stubborn and realize how perfect we are together.

“You could have come by during your shift. Or before if you missed us that much.” Typical Danika. Gotta give me hell.

While I don’t think Ryan would care if I swung by here on my break, it could potentially cause problems and make waves with his reelection next year. He’s the best sheriff this town has seen in over a decade, I refuse to be the reason his career is derailed. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Danika shrugs, letting her arms fall at her sides. “Nothing.” She turns back towards the door leaving it open as she steps inside. “Come on in. It’s hotter than homemade sin out here.”

I set Molly on the tiles as Danika shuts the door behind us. Crouching down, I hold the pink bag I’d almost forgotten about to Molly. She gasps and greedily takes it, running to the living room to unwrap her new doll. I stand and extend the cellophane wrapped stems. “These are for you.”

Danika’s cheeks flush red. She steps forward to take the bouquet from my hand. “Thank you.”

Before Danika can step away, I slip my arm around her waist and pull her body against mine. She smells heavenly, like rosewater and desire. I dip my head. Pressing my mouth beneath her ear, to the spot that always makes her squirm. “You’ve got to earn these.”

She tilts her chin, granting me access to those perfect lips. She tastes even better than she smells, like coffee and cinnamon. I should have brought breakfast.

“Sounds like you're hungry.” Danika sets her hand on my rumbling stomach and giggles. “We just finished eating. Want a cinnamon roll?”

“Sure.” I watch her hips sway with each step. I can’t wait to have my hands on them again, press my fingertips against her skin as I take her from behind. I clear my throat and my mind. I can fantasize about her later, when Molly’s not in the next room. “We’re having a picnic tomorrow.”

“We are?” Danika sets a plate with two gigantic icing-covered pastries on the table. They look amazing.

I sit in the chair as she places a mug of coffee beside my napkin. “Ryan is. It’s his annual thank you thing. He works the schedule around whoever wants to go and encourages us to bring our families. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Supposed to?” Danika sits beside me, her knees touching mine. My body hums, eager to feel more of her. If Molly was in the next room, I’d take Danika upstairs and feel every inch of her. “You’ve never been?”

I shovel a forkful of pastry in my mouth and groan. This is probably the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had, way better than Panera or the kind in the can. “These are fucking fabulous,” I say, earning a proud smile. “Um, no. I’ve never been. Didn’t have a family to bring so I didn’t see the point.”

“Oh,” Danika says, sitting up i

n her chair. “Well, then. We’d love to go.”

“What the hell happened?” I set Molly’s water and Danika’s soda on the ground and kneel to look at Molly’s busted lip. She’s not gushing blood, but there’s enough. I’m not squeamish, my job doesn’t allow me to be, but my stomach twists.