Page 78 of Smitty

“No shit.” I let out a long breath. “She’s not quite two, and the cutest damn kid I’ve ever laid eyes on… And her mother’s pretty incredible, too.”

“That mean you two are sorting things out?”

“Trying to.” I cleared my throat. “It’s tough trying to make up for lost time. Every instinct I’ve got tells me to move them in with me, take care of ‘em, and tell the whole world she’s mine.”

“That what she want?”

The question caught me off guard. Truth was we hadn’t really talked about it. I’d hoped she wanted the same, but she hadn’t actually said the words. “I would think so… I mean after everything we’ve been through.”

“I’m not saying don’t fight for her,” he said softly. “Hell, fight for her with all you got, but don’t confuse fighting with rushing.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m happy for you, man.”

“Appreciate it, Duggar.”

I gave him a nod and stepped out of the room. Duggar was a good man. His words stuck with me for the rest of the afternoon. Fight for her with all you got, but don’t confuse fighting with rushing.

That shit was tough, especially when you were impatient like me. The thought had me reaching for my phone. I pulled up Brooke’s number and texted:

Me:

How’s your day going?

I smiled to myself as I pictured her packing up after a long day. I could only imagine the chaos that waited for her when she picked up Anslee at daycare. I figured it would be a bit before she got back to me, so I shoved my phone into my pocket and headed out to my bike.

I had a shift at the Vault in twenty, so I had to get going. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I pulled out my phone to check my messages, and there was still nothing. I didn’t want to overthink it, but something didn’t feel right.

Me:

Everything okay?

The message showed as delivered, but like before, there was no reply.

My stomach tightened. I was being ridiculous. She had a job, and if she wasn’t still at work, she was busy with Anslee. She couldn’t just drop everything to respond to my damn text.

I knew that.

But it didn’t stop my mind from going places it shouldn’t.

I started wondering if she’d talked to Ryan or if she was suddenly questioning things between us. Maybe she thought we’d made a mistake. By the time my phone buzzed with a text, I’d already convinced myself of about twenty different worst-case scenarios. I glanced down at the message, and relief washed over me when I read:

Brooke:

Sorry. It’s been a crazy day.

You still stopping by later?

Me:

It’ll be late.

Brooke:

I don’t care what time it is.

Me: