And not all that long later we’re back on the ground.
I grab my bag…
And don’t apologize for pushing my way to the front of the plane.
I just get the fuck out of there and speed the entire way home.
What feelslike far too long later, I slip into the house, pausing only to drop my shit on the counter before I’m hurrying upstairs to Finn’s bedroom.
Because my daughter—my precious, stubborn, smart-as-a-whip,four-year-old daughter has been home without supervision, considering Finn is apparently too sick to provide it.
And I wasn’t home.
I was on a fucking plane, counting down the seconds to make it back here.
I’m still feeling that urgency, that stress, that anxiety when I push into the guest room and see my daughter in bed with Finn, totally out, her arms and legs akimbo, her head on Finn’s belly.
Finn…
Who’s awake.
And looks to be at death’s door when her head jerks my way.
“Fuck,” I whisper, knees wavering in a way that has nothing to do with my legs being tired after the game and everything to do with the relief pouring through me.
“I couldn’t lift her to put her back in bed,” Finn rasps.
Yup.Rasps.
“I’ve got her,” I say, striding forward and scooping her up into my arms.
Chloe doesn’t so much as stir. But then again, my baby girl is a deep sleeper, and once she’s out, she’sout. It’s only when she’s really trying to push it on the bedtime that she pulls shenanigans like she did tonight.
“I wouldn’t have gone to sleep if I knew there was a possibility that she was awake,” Finn says, or ratherrasps.
“I know,” I tell her. And for as scared as I’ve been over the last hour plus, I mean it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s why we have the child locks on the doors to the outside—this isn’t her first nighttime wandering rodeo.”
“Right.” She nods, but guilt is slicing through her expression. “I still wouldn’t have slept, Rhodes. You have to believe me.”
I frown, cuddle Chloe closer.
Which has something else slicing through Finn’s expression.
Fear?
Genuine fear.
And I remember her words from a few weeks ago.
I just wish they could be proud of me.
Because her parents?—
Damn.
“I do believe you,” I say softly.
A tear slides down her cheek. “I?—”
