Page 69 of Homebound

After pulling out my phone, I look at the screen, and when I read the message, it feels like someone dunked my body in ice water. Everything in me stops. Panic clenches in my chest as my thoughts turn to my baby girl.

“It’s from my mom,” I say.

“What’s wrong?” She cups my jaw, and I lean into her comfort.

As much as I want to kiss her up against my truck all night, I can’t. My girl needs her daddy, and I’m a father always. “It’s Vi. She’s got a fever, so I need to get home. Do you mind if we press pause on this?”

“Pause? No.” She loops her hand through mine. The one that’s always callused from all the riding. “Press play ’cause I’m coming with you.”

28

OUR GIRL

DAKOTA

“Where’s a thermometer when you need one?” Wyatt grunts, shoving aside one of the million keychains in the junk drawer, trying to keep the frustration from his voice. “And why are there so many damn keys in here? We don’t even have that many doors in the barn.”

He starts to slam a kitchen drawer shut, but he seems to remember the sleeping, flushed baby in his arms, and slowly closes the handle with a defeated sigh. Vienna’s forehead is so hot, she’s not even crying, and it breaks my heart when she sniffles, nuzzling into his scratchy neck.

Our eyes connect from across the kitchen, and I give him a look that hopefully he reads as What can I do?

And he gives me one back that could either be nothing, or maybe, you’re already helping.

He’s been a worried mess since we got back to the barn, and it’s so at odds with his typical laid-back mood, that I’ve been forced to dial into my calm demeanor.

We were always like a see-saw—when one person went down, the other person went up. He needs calm, so I dial into the side of my nature, even if it doesn’t come as naturally.

When his moms texted him, he flipped the switch from sexy cowboy to concerned daddy in a second, so I forced my body to cool down after that flaming kiss.

He seems like he’s too concerned about his daughter to think about the kiss, but not me, I’m still overthinking it, and watching him fawn over his little girl reminds me that he isn’t like the other men I kick out of my bed.

He’s more, a lot more, and that terrifies me a bit.

I can’t remain emotionally detached with Wyatt. If I sleep with him, it’s going to mean something. I need to think this through because this could end up ruining everything, which will probably happen anyway, so maybe I should just go for it.

I’m not a lucky person, so I don’t believe in happy endings. I believe in working your ass off to get what you want because no one owes me a damn thing in this life.

But as I gaze at him rubbing circles on Vi’s back, I can’t help but hope for that futile happy ending. I feel it then, the yearning for a family. Vi’s not even mine, and I’m already starting to feel this new protective urge over her because she’s Wyatt’s. I go all in when it comes to my people.

I might not know the first thing about being a parent, but I don’t want to add more stress to this situation, so on the way home, I was looking up best things to do if a child has a fever, reading them off to Wyatt, because I feel like solutions are better than questions in these scenarios.

“She’s going to be fine, sweetheart. Her forehead doesn’t even feel all that hot,” his mom, Stella, says, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He leans into her touch in that same seeking-comfort way I lean into my dad’s. “We debated even calling you because all kids get sick, but she wanted her daddy.”

“Yeah,” his other mom, Jessie, adds, nodding her navy Guardians cap. “Kids get fevers. It happens all the time. There’s no need to worry.”

“Of course I’m going to worry,” he counters, dampening a cool washcloth to put on Vienna’s forehead. “She’s my daughter, and she’s sick. I can’t not worry when things like this happen.”

Stella kisses his stubbled jaw. If Vi’s the spitting image of Wyatt, he’s the male version of his mom. “There’s only so much you can do, sweetheart. Kids get sick. You had a million fevers as a kid, and you’re still alive.”

Jessie sprays some Lysol lemon cleaner, wiping up the already clean granite counter. She’s always been a neat freak. “Give her a lukewarm bath, and you both get some rest.”

They both pull him into a hug, and the four of them form a tight circle. It’s so intimate, so raw, that it feels like I’m intruding on a private moment. Wyatt’s always been a hugger, and so are his parents, so they stay wrapped around each other long enough that I debate leaving.

That’s the kind of family I want one day—the come-to-us-for-anything type. The kind where you spend ten days straight together on vacation in a cramped rental, annoying the hell out of each other, and by the time you leave, you’re ready to never speak to them again. But then you say your goodbyes at the airport, wake up the next morning in your own bed, and find you miss all that loud fighting because your tiny apartment feels empty without them.

“Get some sleep. You too, Kodie,” Stella agrees, nodding as she finally pulls back. “We’re going to head back to the main house, but holler if you need us.”

They give me a firm hug before walking out the front door, and now, it’s just us in the barn, and the ticking rooster clock on the wall.