Page 121 of Dissonance

Her finger curls around mine, that wee fist closing tight, already so strong, her little pink lips forming a small ‘O’ as she watches the shadows from the sensory light dance across the ceiling.

“You’ve got your mum wrapped around your finger already,” I say, rocking on the heels of my boots, the chair beginning to sway. “She’s something else, you know. Strong as hell, determined too. You’ll get that from her, no doubt about it.”

A faint smile pulls at my lips as Callie’s eyes droop, immediately snapping back open, determined to stay awake despite having absolutely no reason to.

“But she’s the best person I’ve ever met,” I add, quieter now. “You’ll figure that out soon enough. And believe me, if you ever need someone in your corner, you don’t need your big ol’ dad. Mumma’s the one everyone needs to be worried about.”

I hold her a little closer, the scent of bubble bath and something unmistakably new and clean and entirely hers filling my lungs.

“I love her. More than I’ve ever loved anything.” I press my lips to the top of her head, to the dark fuzz there. “Apart from you, Mo Chridhe.”

My eyes move toward the door, mouth twitching. “I also forgot to tell you, your mum’s the nosiest person I’ve ever met.” There’s a beat, then a soft shuffle, and I huff out a laugh. “Aye, I know you’re out there, sweetheart.”

The door creaks open, and Thea’s face appears around the frame, eyes wide with faux innocence, as though she hasn’t just been caught.

I raise an eyebrow. “Hear anything good?”

“I wasn’t—” she starts, stopping when I give her a look. Walking farther into the room, she stands next to me, looking down at the almost sleeping baby in my arms. “She okay?”

“Aye. Fed, changed, and nearly down.”

“You didn’t wake me.”

“You needed the sleep.”

She’d fallen asleep on the couch after our walk through the forest, the three of us out in the afternoon sun, showing Callie the stream, telling her where we’d make s’mores in the summer. Thea had lasted about twenty minutes after we got back before she was out cold, her glasses folded on the cushion beside her.

“I can take her,” she offers, holding out her hands.

I shake my head and take them in mine instead, kissing her knuckles. “She’s dropping off.”

Thea sighs, but she’s smiling. “Okay.”

Carefully, and so damn slowly, I stand, crossing to the crib and lowering Callie down. Thea moves in beside me, picking up the bear with the tartan paws from where it’s fallen and setting him on the dresser beside the crib, sitting him upright.

“Goodnight, my darling,” she whispers, bending to kiss her forehead.

I wrap my arms around Thea from behind, chin resting on her shoulder, both of us looking down at our daughter in the dark, neither of us quite believing she’s real.

Downstairs, the fire’s still going, casting warm patterns across the floor. Thea sinks onto the sofa and tucks her feet underneath her, holding out a hand. Her hair’s loose, face bare, her glasses back on now, comfortable in the way that makes me feel completely at home.

I sit beside her and slide my hands under her thighs, pulling her onto my knee. She comes without argument, sinking into me, fingers tracing absent patterns against my arm.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” she replies, her eyes closing.

“I thought you were only checking work if something was urgent.”

She tenses in my hold, eyes wide now, her head slowly turning toward the coffee table where her laptop sits, screen slightly ajar.

“It was urgent.”

“Sure.”

She pauses. “Potentially urgent.”

“Aye,” I say as I run my hand up her thigh. “I didn’t see you pack it.”