“Yes, please!” Lucky squeals, bouncing up and down with excitement.
Hannah chuckles lowly, leaning in close to finish whatever it is she’s doing to my face, and when our eyes meet again, she winks at me, the hint of her smile knowing, like she can hear every one of my filthy thoughts. “Close your eyes,” she whispers, her voice taking a low, sexy timbre.
Again, I sigh, doing as I’m told. “You know, I really love that Grandma got you all this makeup, Lucky Duck. It’s such an age-appropriate gift for a five-year-old…”
“She got me nail polish too!” Lucky chirps, oblivious to my sarcasm. “Want me to paint your nails, Daddy?”
Another sigh escapes me. But, honestly, this little girl has me wrapped around her pinkie; how can a guy possibly say no to that? “Sure thing, chicken wing,” I say, holding my hands out for her to work her magic.
It’s still raining after Lucky and I are done with our glow-ups, afternoon slowly turning into dusk. As we walk downstairs, Toast Malone is sprawled out on the sofa like he owns the place, snoring loudly like he’s pulled an all-nighter, and Hannah gasps at the sight.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” she says, hurrying over to remove the sleeping dog. But he just snorts and grumbles, refusing to budge, and Hannah looks mortified. “He’s so used to the couch at home…” she says sheepishly.
“He’s fine!” I wave off her concern.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Lucky says, mirroring me as she pulls herself up onto one of the bar stools that lines the island. “What’s for dinner, Daddy?”
“Steaks. Sound good?”
She nods enthusiastically, looking over her shoulder Hannah. “Wanna stay for dinner, Hannah?”
Hannah looks awkward for a moment, her eyes flitting about nervously.
“Baby, Hannah might have to get home,” I say, smiling at Hannah when she looks at me so she doesn’t feel any kind of pressure. “But you can stay if you want. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I cook a mean steak,” I add with a casual shrug of my shoulder. “The secret islotsof butter.”
Hannah grins, glancing at Toast who is suddenly sitting up at the mention of food.
“I’m sure we can scrounge up some food for the beast,” I say, as if answering her unspoken question. “Maybe even a few leftovers if he plays his cards right.”
Hannah glances at Lucky, who is watching her with seemingly baited breath. “Sure.”
Lucky claps her hands excitedly. “And then, after dinner, we can build a fort and we can watch?—”
“No!” I interject, because seriously, as much as I would die for this girl, I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.
The long-leveled look Lucky spears me with is quietly terrifying. She’s adorable as hell, but when she gets that look, it’s like one of those possessed kids straight out of a horror film.
“I am not watching it again,” I argue.
“Daddy…” Lucky warns.
“Lucky…” I retort.
“Um…” Hannah clears her throat, and I look at her. “What’s going on?”
“KPop Demon Hunters,” I say through gritted teeth because really, that should be enough of an explanation.
Lucky’s possessed glare morphs into her angelic puppy dogeyes as she turns to Hannah, putting on a real show. “Would you want to watch theKPop Demon Hunterswith me?
Hannah’s face shifts, and I see the very moment my daughter has won her over, my eyes rolling when Hannah says, “Uh, yeah,” as if it’s obvious. “That’s, like, one of my favorite movies.”
Lucky looks at me with a smug smirk, and I swear, it takes all I have to throw my head back on a groan. But also, she played that well; I’m kind of impressed, actually.
Hannah walks past Lucky, giving her a brief hug from behind. And man, just seeing those two together does things to me. I can barely contain the foreign emotion that swirls in my chest.
Rounding the island, Hannah sidles up next to me, bumping me with her hip. I look down at her, meeting her smiling eyes.
“What can I do to help?” she asks sweetly.
