If he wasn’t with her twenty-four seven, he could’ve been convinced that his ten-year-old daughter was doing cocaine. “It’s barely seven, babe. Bailey’s not even awake yet.”
Amaya put a hand on her hip. “You don’t know that. I texted her last night and told her I’d be over first thing.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “We agreed on nine.”
Amaya shrugged. “Bailey said I should just come when I woke up.”
Ryan grinned “Well, if Bailey said it, then . . .”
“Dad.” Amaya rolled her eyes.
Ryan pushed back from the table, setting the forms by his computer. “You’re awake. But you still have to eat breakfast and brush your teeth.”
“I’m not even hungry.”
“Uh-huh.” He poked her ribs as she walked past. “And what if I told you we still had time to make pancakes?”
_____
Ryan led Amaya through the sliding doors of Canadian Tire, the oddly comforting scent of rubber hitting them like a wave. The store was a maze of aisles, each one lined with tools, equipment, and gadgets. He pulled out his phone and checked his list, then headed straight for the hardware section.
Amaya trailed behind him, her eyes wide as she took in the shelves of shiny objects. "You said we were going to Bailey’s.”
“We are.” Ryan searched the signs for the aisle he was looking for.
“Then why are we at the store?”
Ryan didn’t have a great answer for that. Nor could he explain why he’d spent an hour searching up common issues with garage code pads the night before while listening to Amaya cry out the lyrics toDown, Bad.
He opted to ignore the question and stalked toward the back of the store. When they got to the electrical section, Amayaloitered at the end of the aisle. “Dad, look at this!" She pointed to a display of LED flashlights. "Can we get one? For camping?"
"Like, as a gift for a family that camps?" Ryan reached for a keypad, then a spool of wiring, and dropped them into their basket.
"Dad." She shot him a look. It was so much more fun being a parent when she was old enough to understand how witty he was.
Ryan chuckled. "Put it on your birthday list."
“Camping? Or the flashlight?”
His grin widened. “Damn, girl. Don’t do me like that.”
Amaya’s eyes sparkled as she walked up next to him. "What's that for?" She pointed to the spool of wire in his hands.
Ryan straightened. “Uh . . . for fixing the garage keypad at Bailey's house. Remember? I told you it was broken."
Amaya nodded. "Why can't they just get a new one?"
Ryan smiled. "Because sometimes it's more cost-effective to fix things than to buy new ones. Plus, it's satisfying to solve the problem yourself."
Amaya pursed her lips. "But they aren’t solving the problem themselves. You’re solving it."
Okay. So it was possible he’d ruined her.
They left the store and drove toward Brentwood. Ryan pulled up to the curb in front of Aelin's house and did everything he could to explain away the flutter of excitement in his chest.
It was nerves. He shouldn’t have bought the supplies without asking first. Amaya didn’t make friends easily, and he didn’t want this playdate to end in a flaming pile of dog crap.
It definitely wasn’t that he was still thinking about Aelin standing on the front porch in a towel or replaying the way her cheeks had stained pink as she recited the WiFi password.
