Page 279 of Daddy's Pride

Daddy gave me a look that was both stern and tender, and I knew the flooding was a big deal—like really big, capital-B Bad—but it was impossible for panic to even exist in the same world as a look like that, and the feeling of relief that rushed in to take its place, even before Daddy said a word, was so big that it had tears springing to my eyes.

“Because, baby,” he said softly. “You’re my boy, and I’m taking care of you.”

I still had no idea what that had to do with his friend Juan but I didn’t ask again, because I didn’t have to. I wasn’t on my own anymore. I didn’t have to figure this out all by myself this time, or be overwhelmed by how much I didn’t know, or try to figure out where to start.

Daddy had already told me what my job was right now—clothes, then dog—and all I had to do right now was do it.

I felt horrible that Stumpy had lost a leg, but I had to admit she was kind of adorable in a tenacious survivor kind of way once I got her all set up in her sling with the cute wheels, so she could push herself around. She was still too weak and exhausted to really explore Daddy’s amazing backyard, but I could tell that she wanted to.

Focusing just on that for now, like Daddy had said I should, went a long way toward easing some of the tight panic that had hit me when I’d first read Jacob’s text.

“Good job, Stumpy,” I said as she sniffed a bush, then looked back at me with her tail wagging a little, like she wanted me to notice.

I smiled at her, pretty sure she’d be happy living here forever.

I didn’t blame her.

The house my parents had bought was fine. Not too nice, since their long-term plan was to just keep renting it to college students, since it was so close to campus. But there was nothing really wrong with it.

Well, other than the flooding and some of the maintenance I could never quite seem to catch up on.

But still, it was nothing like Daddy’s house.

He’d mentioned once when we’d been texting that he’d built it himself, and now that I was here, I could see all the care he’d taken in designing every bit of it. How warm and comfortable it felt with the seasoned wood and golden lights. How Stumpy and I could laze around in the cozy living room or play ball in the backyard together if we both actually lived here, too.

Stumpy started awkwardly chasing a butterfly, and I got a little lost for a second in a daydream about Daddy and I making dinner together in his gorgeous kitchen, then sitting out on the patio, all curled up together to watch the stars with the beagle at our feet.

Then my face flushed with embarrassment when I realized how dumb I was being, spinning this whole future where Daddy and I were…

Well, where we hung out.

A lot.

Or, you know, like I lived here too. And not just because, if I was being super, super honest with myself, I wouldn’t mind living somewhere else where I didn’t have to be responsible for everything all on my own. Not even because Daddy’s house was so gorgeous.

It was because of him.

I liked him.

And I kind of wished he liked me enough to… to want to spend more time together, too.

“Dumb, right, Stumpy?” I whispered, scooping her up after she finally got done with the butterfly and did her business.

It was a little bit awkward with her casts and assistive mobility device, but she was worth it. Especially when she gave my chin a tiny, cautious lick.

Which naturally I had to reward with a dozen more kisses and scritches before going back inside to face the rest of today.

It was going to suck. I already knew that. But when I got back inside and finished feeding Stumpy, Daddy said he’d already given my roommates instructions on how to shut off the water, make sure nothing electrical was a danger, and start mitigating the flooding.

There was nothing else for me to do yet, other than make sure Stumpy took her medicine and got settled on her bed—where she promptly fell asleep—then get myself dressed and ready to go.

By the time we drove out to my house, Daddy’s friend Juan had already started using a boxy truck with huge hoses to get the water out, and he told us that his sister was on her way to Daddy’s house to watch over Stumpy for us, in case she woke up and needed anything.

“Is it, um, is it really bad?” I asked, hugging my arms around myself as some of my Daddy-induced calm slipped away once I saw how wet everything was.

Daddy put his arm around me, which for some reason made Juan grin and wink at me, which had to mean it wasn’t too bad, right? Or else he wouldn’t have looked so laid back and cheerful?

“It’s probably not going to livable for a few days,” Daddy said, which both made my stomach cramp but also made me appreciate that he wasn’t sugarcoating it. “The flooding may have damaged some of the flooring, and Juan says the hot water heater is shot.”