Page 28 of Untamed Heart

“Where you goin’, little star?”

“Gotta potty,” she announced as she skipped toward the door.

I started rising from the chair at the side of Pops’s bed. “Need me to go with you?”

My daughter shot me a quelling look over her shoulder. “I’m nearly eight, Dad,” she said with all the disgust her little body could muster. “I’m not a baby. I can go by myself.”

I didn’t need her to remind me of that. It was something I was reminded of every single time I looked at her. Time was moving too fast.

“Fine, but there and right back. And what’s the rule?” I called louder so she could hear me in the hallway.

She replied at a noise level that was about thirty decibels too loud. “No stops along the way and no talkin’ to strangers! Duh, Daddy!”

I collapsed back into the hard plastic chair, bracing my elbows on my knees and scrubbing at my face. “Eight going on thirty-eight, I swear to Christ.”

“Little girl’s a walkin’ neon sign everywhere she goes,” Pops chuckled. “Lights up even the darkest spaces.”

Hell, didn’t I know it.

We passed a few seconds in silence before Pops finally broached the topic I knew was coming. “How bad was it?”

It wasn’t hard to recall. The devastation I’d seen on her face was tattooed into my brain. “Bad,” I answered honestly. “Take what you’re thinking, and expand on it.”

Pops sank back into the hospital pillows that were tucked behind him. “Shit,” he said on a huff of breath. “Not surprised. Saw it written all over her face. Seeing me with Cass hurt her.”

Dropping my head, I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension building there. “Yeah, well, I sure as hell didn’t make the situation any better.”

“Have to make this work.” I lifted my head to find Pops staring off into space, shaking his head and talking to himself as opposed to me. “I have to find a way to fix this. Can’t unbreak her heart, but it’s long past time I start trying to heal it.”

If I had the first fucking clue how to do that, I would have started already. The truth was, there wasn’t a chance in hell I could lose her again. It just wasn’t an option. I let her walk away from me once before. That wasn’t a mistake I planned to make a second time.

Even if that meant taking Cassi and going with her.

FOURTEEN

DAKOTA

“Dakota?”My name sounded like it was coming from the opposite end of a long, dark tunnel, barely penetrating my consciousness as I stood, staring unseeing at the items on the shelves in front of me.

“Hey. Dakota?” The touch on my arm gave me a start, jerking me back into the present. I blinked, the boxes of different types of dried pasta coming into focus. “So sorry.” I turned my head to find Iris standing beside me, a hesitant smile tilting her lips up. She lifted her hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you heard me.”

I let out a low chuckle and shook my head. “No, no. Please. Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just spaced out, I guess.”

We both turned to look back at the pasta for a few beats before Iris sucked in an excited breath, clapping her hands and doing a little hop on the balls of her very sexy, very cool high heels. “Are you making more recipes for Foodie Bee?”

I looked at her and smiled. “You’ve been watching?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Ever since Pheebs mentioned it. I think I’ve managed to watch every piece ofcontent you’ve put out. I really want to try that one recipe.” She snapped her fingers as she tried to recall the name. “Ah! The Beef Wellington. That’s what it was.”

My stomach rumbled at the thought of that tender, succulent dish. It been too long since I was in a kitchen without being able to cook for myself, and I’d been eating whatever was quick and easy. I really missed cooking. It was why I found myself absently parking my car, going into the local market on autopilot, and walking through the aisles without my brain communicating with my body.

When I was stressed, I cooked. When I was angry or sad, I cooked. Hell, when I was happy, I cooked. The kitchen was my safe place. The only one I’d ever had, and not being able to do what I loved for weeks was slowly sucking the life out of me.

It might have sounded ridiculous to some people, but the grocery store was like therapy for me.

“That’s a really good one. I know it can seem intimidating, but I made sure my recipe was beginner friendly. Plus, you can always call me if you need help.”

She shot me a wink, and I couldn’t help but think that the women I’d met so far—Lennon, Iris, and Phoebe—were sweet as hell. “I’ll probably have to take you up on that. I have this bad habit of thinking I can do something because the internet said I can. Just ask the drywall I tried to patch by myself, or the mechanic who had to fix my car when I tried to change my own oil.”