I reach out automatically. I don’t know why I do it, I don’t think about it, I just tuck the hair behind her ear before I can stop myself.
She freezes and so do I.
Her breath snags, and the moment stretches. My fingers drag lightly across her skin, and heat flashes through me hard enough to make me tense.
Maisie stares at us for a beat, like she’s waiting to see what we do next.
“Your ears are red, Daddy,” she announces.
I drop my hand. “They are not.”
“They are.”
Charlotte’s eyes meet mine and she tries to hide a smile. I feel the heat move into my face now too.
“Maybe we should… keep decorating,” I say.
Charlotte nods quickly. “Yes. Definitely.”
She picks up the piping bag, but her hands shake just slightly. I notice because I’m staring like an idiot.
She squeezes the frosting and it comes out crooked.
“Oh no,” she whispers, trying to correct it.
Maisie pats her arm compassionately. “It is okay. Daddy makes blops all the time.”
“Blops,” I repeat under my breath.
“Yes,” Maisie insists. “Blops.”
Charlotte laughs again, and there’s a small ache in my chest, the kind that feels too close to hope.
She decorates another cookie, slower this time. When she reaches for the sprinkles, our hands brush. It is a tiny touch, barely there, but I feel it like a small spark running down my spine.
She pulls her hand back quickly and lets out a soft breath.
Maisie narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “You two are acting funny.”
Charlotte coughs. “We are not acting funny.”
“Yes you are,” Maisie says. “Your faces look funny.”
Charlotte presses her lips together, trying not to smile. “Do they?”
Maisie nods. “You look like you are thinking about hugging.”
I choke on air, while Charlotte’s face goes bright pink.
“No,” I say immediately. “We are not thinking about hugging.”
“Yes you are,” Maisie sings under her breath.
I give her a look, and she smiles sweetly and goes back to her cookie.
I glance at Charlotte. She is looking at the cookie, not at me, but her mouth is curved in a way that tells me she is fighting a laugh. I should step away. I should get back to work. This is dangerous in a way I do not have the bandwidth for, but I stay.
We finish decorating the tray, and Maisie insists Charlotte pick her favorite cookie to take home. Charlotte chooses a heart-shaped one covered in red sprinkles.
