Page 141 of Daddy’s Fortitude

Aimee gave him a shocked look. He guessed that wasn’t very normal for him to ask if she needed a hug.

But to his surprise, she just walked forward and stepped into his embrace.

He held her tight, rocking her back and forth, and that’s when the tears started. They turned quickly into sobs that racked her entire body.

Worry flooded him, and he picked her up with one arm before reaching over to turn off the stove so the soup didn’t boil over.

Then he moved to the table, sitting on a chair with her on his lap facing him, and he just held her as she cried and cried.

“Shh, shh,” he whispered to her. “It’s all right. You’re okay. You’re safe. I have you.”

“Not crying because of me,” she said with a few hiccups. “You.”

“You were worried about me,” he guessed.

She nodded. “Didn’t know if you were okay. The sheriff wouldn’t let me see you.”

“You came to the jail to see me?” he asked.

Another sob broke out of her as she clung tightly to him. “Last night.”

“You came last night? How did you get there?”

She just shook her head but didn’t say anything. Which he supposed was an answer in itself but likely meant that she had walked from the bar to the sheriff’s department, and he didn’t want to think about how she’d gotten home from there.

Surely she had called Kirsten or a rideshare to come and get her.

Not that he was very happy about the idea of her taking a rideshare home in the middle of the night.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” he asked, running his hand up and down her back.

She shook her head again.

“Yeah, that’s what I suspected.”

Her little hands were clenched into fists around his shirt, and he was aware of the fact that he hadn’t had a shower since yesterday morning.

“Sorry if I stink,” he said. She leaned back to stare up at him. God, she really didn’t cry prettily. Her face was red and blotchy and swollen. There were tears still dripping down her face, and from the way she kept sniffing, she needed to blow her nose.

He stood with her held against his chest and walked with her into the living room to grab a tissue.

“Oh, God. And now I’ve got a snotty nose again. Thank God I’m a pretty crier, or you’d think I was a total disaster!”

He raised his eyebrows about the pretty crier part, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he just sat on the sofa again. This time, he shifted her around so she lay sideways on his lap and was cradled back against his arm.

“And you don’t stink,” she said. “You smell amazing. You always smell amazing.”

“Really? No jail stench clinging to my clothes?” He pretended to sniff himself and then pulled a face.

And she smiled. It made him feel about a hundred feet tall. And weirdly his indigestion was a lot better.

“Well, maybe just a little bit.”

He tickled her lightly until she giggled. That was better. He hated seeing her cry.

“I don’t want to eat,” she said. “I also don’t want you to be out of my sight, not for a while. I know I’m acting like a crazy person, but I was just so worried about you.”

The tears started to come faster again, and he held her closer, rocking her back and forth. He was worried that she was going to make herself sick with how hard she was sobbing in his arms.