Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Mace glanced at the time on his phone. “If we don’t leave soon, we won’t have a place to sit near the bonfire, little firefly.”
She stepped out of the bathroom, and he decided never to complain about how long it took her to get ready again because the results were fucking adorable.
Her red skirt had too many ruffles to count, and he was glad to see she’d put on a pair of white leggings underneath.
A Montana night in August could be cool.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Mickey Mouse shirt like that before.
” Having Mickey’s rear end front and center while the mouse peered out from between his legs was hilarious.
It also reminded him of what would happen when they got back to his, no, their cabin after the bonfire.
Something told him she wouldn’t think it was funny to assume the same position herself. “Love the ears.”
She adjusted her sequined Mickey Mouse ear headband, keeping her dark brown hair back and her white forelock on display. He was proud of her for not trying to hide who she was. That took guts. She looked… comfortable. Like herself.
“I’m ready if you are, Daddy,” she said, rocking from her heels to her toes. “Sniffles is ready, too.” She spun around to show him her toy skunk strapped to her back.
“All right, we can go. Where is your sweater?”
She gave him the most innocent look he’d ever seen, the little squirt. “What sweater, Daddy?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “The one I told you to bring in case you get cold.”
“I won’t get cold.”
“Not in your room, you won’t. And that’s where you’ll be staying if you don’t get your sweater.”
She scowled at him but pulled her sweater from the hook behind the door. He held out his hand. “I’ll hold it for you until you need it.”
She grinned before skipping over to him. “Here you go. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, little firefly. I have your letters of apology for Laura and her Daddy. I asked Erika for their room number. We’ll walk together and deliver them before we head to the bonfire.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Can’t we just leave them at the front desk or something? I don’t want to face them.”
“I understand, but a little firefly has to be brave enough to apologize in person when her fire singes someone. Even if it was an accident.”
Doubt darkened her eyes. “Do you think the letters will make it all better?”
“I think so, but if not, we’ll just give them time. I’m sure it will be fine, and I’ll always stand by your side so you don’t have to face anything alone.”
She surprised him by throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Daddy.”
The impact hit him harder than he expected, not just physically.
Instinct took over before he thought through his actions.
His arms came around her, anchoring her against him.
She fit there too easily, her warmth seeping through his denim and flannel.
Her smaller frame pressed into his like she’d done it a hundred times before.
Damn. She felt good in his arms. Too good.
That realization scratched at something deep inside his chest. Had anyone ever stood beside her when things got ugly? Or had she learned to weather every storm on her own, pretending she didn’t need any help? The idea didn’t sit right with him. Not at all.
Once they reached Laura’s room, Fiera was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and knocked on the door. It opened a few minutes later, Laura standing behind her Daddy, peering around at them.
He exchanged a knowing smile with the man standing by Laura and nudged his reluctant little firefly. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”
Fiera held out the envelopes with a trembling hand, her gaze settling on Laura. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was that I ran into you. I know it hurt, and I should have been wearing my sunglasses.”
Laura turned as red as a beet and snatched the letters from Fiera. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. I know it wasn’t an accident.”
“Laura!” the man with her said in a stern tone. “That is unacceptable. Corner. Now.”
Laura stomped her foot. “But, Daddy! I saw her eyes closed.”
That earned Laura a swat to her bottom. “I said, go to the corner.”
With one last glare at Fiera, Laura stomped to the corner farthest from the door.
Laura’s Daddy shook his head before extending his hand to Mace.
“It looks like Laura will be apologizing, too. I’m James.
” Turning to Fiera, he said, “Thank you for bringing these to us. It was very brave of you. I’m sorry my naughty girl was rude.
We’ll probably see you at the bonfire, right, Laura? ”
Laura said nothing.
Fiera tried to smile. “Probably.”
Tears glimmered in his little firefly’s eyes. Damn it. He was a patient man, but in that moment, he wanted to pinch Laura’s head off. “We’ll see you there.” He’d be keeping an eye out. If Laura’s attitude hadn’t improved, he’d make sure Fiera didn’t see the girl at all.
Mace admired Fiera’s grit. He’d known Laura’s words hurt his girl as soon as her shoulders drooped, but she hadn’t lashed out in kind. After the door shut, Mace crouched to stand eye to eye with his girl. “I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life, firefly. Are you okay?”
She nodded, but her thumb slipped into her mouth. He hadn’t seen her do that before, but it made his heart hurt. Not because he minded her sucking her thumb. He didn’t mind that a bit. But he knew it meant she was hurting.
He kept his voice steady and gentle. Protectiveness wasn’t a big enough word for what filled him.
Especially over a woman he’d only known for a day.
He searched her face, memorizing every flicker of feeling, ready to assure her that, whatever she felt was okay—sadness, fear, or both—he was here for her.
She gave him a sad smile that damn near broke his heart. “I’m okay, Daddy. You were right. We just have to give her a little more time.” She searched his eyes before gutting him with her next words. “I’m sorry I put you through that. It was a lot. I’m a lot. Are you okay?”
Her words slipped between his ribs like a quiet blade, sharp and precise, piercing his heart. She was comforting him, after everything that had just happened? Who had taught her it wasn’t acceptable to be vulnerable and admit she was hurting? Or that everything was her fault?
But Derek had already provided the answer to that question. When he got to Wilder, he was looking up Erwin Pierce and teaching him a few things about how a real Daddy responded when his Little was wronged.
The instinct to downplay what she was feeling was something she’d learned to do, he realized. A survival skill wrapped in sweetness and resilience. His jaw tightened as resolve locked into place. That burden was no longer hers to carry. Not here. Not with him.
She deserved protection fierce enough to give her the freedom to be herself. And God help anyone who tried to rush her, pressure her, or take one more piece of her somewhat spirited version of gentleness for granted.
“I want to talk more about what happened later, but right now we have a campfire to enjoy. Ready to go have fun?”
Nodding, she said, “You bet’cha.”
“Me too, but first, let’s make sure you’re not gonna catch a chill.”
When he presented her sweater, she looked at him like he was at least a tad bit crazy. Daddy, it’s a bonfire. I won’t get chilled.”
“I know you won’t because you’ll be wearing this,” he said, giving the sweater a slight shake as he held it out so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.
By the time they reached the edge of the clearing, the bonfire was already crackling.
Derek hadn’t taken the subtle track. No tidy propane flames contained within fake logs.
Nope. This was a real fire, and not a small one.
Rawhide Ranch clearly didn’t believe in half-measures. The flames leapt high, sparks spiraling into the Montana evening sky like stars fighting for their place. The scent of burning pine rolled through the air, thick and familiar, stirring childhood memories of life on his ranch.
On their way over to the campgrounds, Mace had slowed his steps without consciously deciding to. His stride shortened, and his pace slowed to match hers. His body had already keyed itself to her rhythm. And it happened faster than it probably should have.
He wasn’t one to rush into things. He was steady and measured. It was one of the things that made him a good Daddy. But with Fiera, it was like he’d forgotten how to pull the reins back on his emotions.
Firelight danced across her face, catching in her eyes, turning that impossible blue even brighter, making them almost electric.
They were curious, but not nervous. And no longer withdrawn, even knowing what the night still held in store after the bonfire was over.
No, she was watching him as closely as he watched her.
“You’re quiet,” he said, tilting her head up to look at him.
“I’m thinking,” she said before grinning up at him. “Most people think that’s dangerous.”
He barked out a laugh. “I can only imagine why.”
Logs and rough-hewn benches dotted the clearing, dragged into a loose circle close enough to the fire to keep warm but far enough back that nobody risked singeing an eyebrow.
Littles clustered in small groups, laughter rising and falling, while their Daddies hovered nearby or sat with their guitars balanced across their knees, already tuning them.
The evening breeze carried the scents of smoke, melting chocolate, and the night-cooled trees. The area buzzed with that low-level, happy chaos that only existed in places where people felt safe enough to be themselves.
Fiera’s grip tightened around his fingers, drawing his attention back to her.
“Oh! There they are,” she said, bouncing on her toes just like every Little he’d ever known.
He scanned the crowd, then followed her gaze and realized what the excitement was about. He should have known.