No Quick Fix (Torus Intercession 1)

“But I’m big.”

I snorted, thinking that her slight forty-five pounds—she couldn’t have been any more than that—could have been any kind of strain. “You should slow down a little bit, huh?”

She made a noise and nodded. “That’s what Daddy says.”

“Daddy’s right,” I told her, grimacing. “It sucks, but he is.”

She put both her hands around my left bicep. “You’re pretty strong.”

“You can be too. We’ll work out together in the morning.”

“And why would I wanna be strong?”

I squinted at her. “Why wouldn’t you, is the better question.”

She stared up at me, and I crossed my arms and stared back.

“Fine,” she said, aggrieved, like she was doing me a favor, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

“Good.”

“You know I get up early,” she warned, shooting me a daring grin.

I shrugged. “That’s all right. You can wake me up. I need to be gettin’ up earlier anyway.” Which was the truth. I’d been slacking off a bit lately, but I’d only been out of the Navy for five months, so I was still figuring out what my new normal was going to be.

“Yeah? You promise?”

“’Course,” I agreed, bending to tie her right soccer cleat. “So what do you do out there?”

“I’m a forward.”

“I have no idea what that is, but I’ll watch and figure it out.”

Enthusiastic nodding followed. “Can you get my bag?”

After rushing back to her still open door, I grabbed her FC Barcelona duffel from the floor and then closed her door. When I was standing beside her again, she slipped her little hand into mine and led me around the SUV to her father and April.

Immediately, Emery put his hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Please slow down, Ollie. I don’t want you to break your arm again, okay?”

It all made sense then, his alarm, his near nervous breakdown in the front seat. If my kid broke her arm the last time she got out of the car, I might be a mess as well.

She smiled up at him. “I know. I’m sorry I was going too fast again.”

“It’s okay,” he said, touching her cheek for a moment. I saw him notice her holding my hand, and when his gaze met mine, I was surprised at the concern I saw there.

“Can we just go already,” April grumbled.

When we arrived at the field, Emery set up April’s chair, which she plopped down into and immediately flipped open her sketchbook and started drawing. He readied Olivia’s next. The last one, he opened and offered to me.

“Oh, that’s nice of you, but I’ve been driving since Thursday, so standing is awesome.”

His smile was warm, and I watched him deflate and relax. “Well, if you want it, it’s there.”

“I appreciate that.”

I watched as he put on Olivia’s shin guards, then sent her over to the coach. I stood beside him as the girls all put their hands together in a circle, yelled “fight, fight, fight”—maybe not super appropriate—and rushed the field.

After a beat, he said, “Ollie’s going to get attached.”

I turned to him. “I’m sorry?”

His brows furrowed as he stared at me. “Ollie. I can already tell, she’s going to get quite attached to you.”

He made it sound like a terminal illness.

“Because you’ll be there, in our home, and she’ll see you every day, and you’re already getting along. She’s going to develop feelings and when you leave, that will be hard.”

“And what would you like me to do about that?” I asked him honestly. “Should I be a prick to her?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Should I leave?”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He was adamant.

“Then?”

“I just have to deal with the fallout,” he said miserably.

“Sorry,” I teased him, trying to lighten the mood, “but when you’re this charming, there’s not a lot to do about your daughter falling in love with me.”

“Are you always this helpful?” he asked as he scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, rough about it.

I didn’t answer, instead waiting while he took a breath and then gave me a trace of a smile. “If it’s any comfort, I think April hates me.”

“Oh, well, thank God for small favors.”

I shrugged and he put a hand on my shoulder and left it there.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like?”

He was still for a moment. “You seem really young to be retired from the Navy,” he said to me but turned his head to watch Olivia bolt down the field.

“Yeah, well, I’m not all that young. I’m thirty-two.”

“Really?” he said, giving me his attention again. “I would have said you were still in your twenties.”

“That wasn’t in my file from Torus?”

“No, but why would it? Your age doesn’t, in fact, tell me a thing about you. Your life experiences are the important part. But really, I would have never guessed thirty-two.”

“Well, it’s true. I’m all grown-up and everything.”

His smile made his whole face light up, and I felt a warm ball in the pit of my stomach. “So why did you leave the Navy?”