“I’m home for good,” I laughed, lifting her easily, burying my face in her hair. She smelled like strawberries and sunscreen and the faintest hint of nail polish remover. “Missed you, bug.”
She pulled back just long enough to cup my face between her hands, inspecting me like she needed proof. “You look tired.”
“Harsh,” I said.
I set her down, and that’s when Dani stepped closer.
She didn’t rush me. Didn’t interrupt the moment. She just stood there with a soft smile, hands tucked into the pockets of her cardigan, eyes warm in a way that made my ribs ache.
“Welcome Home, Cowboy,” she said in her best mock southern accent.
“Nice try.” I deadpanned.
She laughed and I didn’t think. I just reached out, caught her wrist gently, and pulled her in long enough to steal a quick hug.
Not long. Not obvious.
She froze for half a second before relaxing into it, my hand settling against the small of her back. The soft fabric of her sleeve brushed against my neck as I settled in her warmth and breathed her in.
“Glad you’re back,” she murmured.
Something in my chest, clicked into place. I caught myself locked in her gaze. Thinking about pulling her into a kiss, holding her, doing all of the things I didn’t get to do the last time I saw her.
Harper cleared her throat loudly. “HELLO. Cake.”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me inside like I might disappear if she didn’t keep physical contact.
The kitchen was chaos in the best way with streamers taped to cabinets, a lopsided cake on the counter covered in too much frosting and rainbow sprinkles scattered everywhere. The sweet, sugary smell of the frosting mixed with the faint, smoky scent of the half-melted candle burning in the middle.
“It’s chocolate,” Harper announced. “With chocolate frosting. And chocolate chips. Dani said it might be a lot, but I said it’s a celebration.”
“I’m proud of you for standing your ground,” I said solemnly.
Dani snorted. “She threatened to revoke my babysitting privileges.”
“Correct.”
Harper beamed and then gasped dramatically. “WAIT.”
She ran to the couch, grabbed my carry-on, and plopped it on the floor. “Did you bring souvenirs?”
I knelt and unzipped the bag, pulling out the plush alligator first.
She screamed.
Like full, ear-piercing, jumping-in-circles screamed.
“He has sunglasses” she shouted, clutching it to her chest. “He’s so cool, daddy.”
“Just like you,” I said.
She hugged me again, tight and fast, then froze. “Oh! I almost forgot.”
She disappeared down the hall and came back holding a small gift bag with purple tissue paper. “This is for you. Dani helped.”
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a crooked photo frame with a picture of the three of us at the farm: Harper mid-laugh, Dani squinting into the sun, my arm around Harper.
