“We’ll try that dry shampoo tomorrow. Give your skin time to heal.”
“But my head is itchy now.”
Caden had already wiped the blood caking her hair with a damp cloth. That had done nothing for her itchy scalp. “Come sit on a stool at the island and let Daddy check your stitches. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference if I played hairdresser today.”
“Yes! Thank you, Daddy.”
She quickly maneuvered away from him to stand up. Caden groaned and got up from his comfy spot. He’d been at home for two days with his Little. Caden wasn’t used to sitting around. If Brooklyn kept making progress, he’d at least go for a run tomorrow.
Halfway to the kitchen, his phone rang. His heart froze seeing Jerico’s name. “Don’t tell me.”
“Okay. I won’t. We’re not deployed. I have a little girl over here who’s making herself sick worrying about Brooklyn. Is there any way Aspen could come over for a short visit?”
Caden studied Brooklyn. Her color had improved. She’d taken a long nap in her nursery after lunch. “Would you like a visitor? Aspen is worried about you.”
“I’d love to see Aspen. Could Giana and Pippa come over too? They never got to see my dollhouse.”
When she bounced with excitement, Caden wrapped a hand over her shoulder and stopped her motion. “You’ll have to stay calm. No jostling your brain.”
“I’ll be so still you’ll wonder if I’m a tree!”
Caden looked at her skeptically but spoke into the phone. “Come over in an hour. I need to get Brooklyn ready for company.”
“You got it. Want me to call Koa and Zale?” Jerico asked.
“Yes.” Caden added, “Better call Hank and Max. They’d probably like to visit as well. Stress that it’s a quick visit this first time.”
“You got it. Short visit. Notify the team.” Jerico disconnected the call with that crisp, short, military-style review of the essential message to share with everyone.
“They’re going to bring dinner,” he told Brooklyn.
“I didn’t hear you say anything about food.”
“I know those guys. They’ll want to help. Food is important to soldiers. They’ll descend on us with enough stuff to feed an army.” Caden smiled to himself. He’d worked with a lot of teams during his time in the military. Whoever had put this group together had outdone themselves.
“They’ve all been so nice to me,” Brooklyn said softly as Caden picked her up and sat her on a stool.
“I’d hope so,” Caden told her before stepping into the laundry room to grab a clean towel from the stack on the dryer. He’d given up putting everything in the cabinet as he folded it. Brooklyn had needed him to hold her. As much as Caden had pushed the memory from his mind, walking into see a blood-soaked towel with more evidence of a serious accident or attack smeared on the tile floor had scared him—more than some of the horrendous events he’d witnessed in the military.
“I’m okay, Daddy,” she whispered to reassure him.
“You see too much, little girl.” Caden had always prided himself on his poker face. Brooklyn could read him like a book.
“I’m supposed to, Daddy. I love you.”
“Thank goodness. Now, no squirming. Let me see your stitches.”
Caden carefully drew a few rogue strands of hair that had gotten tousled out of place away from the wound. The skin was pink and not as angry as it had been before. “Your wound looks good. I’m game to try my hand at dry shampoo if you’d like.”
“Oh, yes! Thank you!”
Caden read the directions carefully as she fidgeted. Wanting to be extra careful, he noted the warnings.
“Daddy. It’s not that hard. Sprinkle it on and brush it through. I could do it,” she offered.
“No way, little girl.” He sent her a steely glance that squelched her wiggles. Caden shook the container and applied the powder at the ends of her tresses as far as possible from the wound. Some of the material blew toward her stitches, making him second-guess whether this was smart.
“What’s wrong?” she asked impatiently.
