Chapter 24 Dakota
DAKOTA
“Oh hi, Dakota. Thank you so much for coming over.” Shelly looks flustered. And who could blame her? She’s been on maternity leave with her new baby girl for only two weeks, and suddenly, her oldest daughter is being sent home from school with some sort of stomach bug.
School just started too. Gabe warned me about this. Said kids always get sick at the beginning of school, and with us living together now, I might be exposed to a lot of germs.
Worth it, by the way.
Even though I haven’t gotten sick yet.
He officially moved in over the summer, but he’s pretty much been there since the weekend he finished the hot tub at my house—now, our house. I never tire of that. It just sort of happened too.
It wasn’t really a conscious decision. It just sort of happened. Until one day, I asked him if he was living with me, and he realized he was. And I said, “Good.”
He sold his house in town and moved in officially, and that was the end of that. Like everything else with our relationship, it quietly snuck up but felt right, and we just went with it.
And Amber settled right into her own room at the house, excited about painting it a green shade she chose at the store and decorating it the way she wanted to.
We found an antique desk at Cane’s store—his partner is Archie from Oakley’s Crew.
I’m still getting to know all of them, but I’ve long accepted that they’re all good men.
Travis and Oakley wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Of course. Where is she?” She closes the door quietly behind her, a baby monitor in her hand as she leads me toward the back of the house.
“The little germ magnet is this way,” she says, but she’s smiling, though she looks really tired. “I’m so sorry to do this. But Gabe made it really clear that he doesn’t mind taking Amber a little extra while we get settled. And with Vanessa being so little, this just worries me.”
“I totally understand,” I say, and I do. It also makes me really happy that she called me today, knowing Gabe is at work but that she can trust me to help out with Amber. It feels good.
She gives me a soft smile and then pushes open the door to Amber’s room.
My eyes immediately zone in on the kid lying in her bed with a washcloth on her head and a bowl sitting next to her.
She doesn’t hop up and greet me like I’m used to.
Poor kid looks pitiful as I make my way into her room to her bedside.
“Hey, kiddo. Heard you weren’t feeling well. ”
“I feel poopy,” she pouts up at me, and okay, that breaks my heart.
Amber is a terror—like the most adorable, funny little terror, who rips through the house and the yard like a tornado every single day. The kid is a force on most days, and I never thought I would, but I love it.
I love the chaos and the happiness she brings to my life with Gabe. But today, she looks pale and so small. Not moving. I do not like this at all.
“She was burning up when I went to get her from school.” Shelly places a hand on her red little cheeks. “But she feels cooler now after the ibuprofen I gave her.”
I nod. “Do you have more of that? Or the bottle for reference, so I can make sure I give her the right medicine?”
Shelly smiles at me, looking kind of like she wants to pat me on the head but also like I said something endearing. I just need to make sure I don’t give the kid the wrong medicine and make this worse.
She needs to feel better and start tearing up some stuff and making messes. Screeching loud like she likes to.
“I put everything in the bag I packed for her. And I did include pjs and more clothes, even though I know she has plenty at your place. If you need anything at all, call or text me. I’ll have my phone on me.”
I know she’s worried. Likely very used to being the one who takes care of Amber when she’s sick. “Don’t worry. I have no problem calling you for help.” I gaze down at Amber before taking the bag Shelly gives me and slinging it over my shoulder. “You ready to go, kiddo?”
Her little eyes peer up at me, and the kid looks miserable. “Can I play with the kittens?”
Somehow, I don’t think she’ll have enough energy for that, but I don’t want to upset her.
“Maybe after you rest some?” Yeah, it’s a question.
I haven’t really gotten to the telling her what to do stage, and I’m not sure I ever will, but it’s fine.
She has two parents. Two really good parents who love the hell out of her.
I’m fine with being her dad’s boyfriend who makes sure Gabe doesn’t kill all her dandelions and reads to her because I do better voices than Gabe. Her words, not mine.
The kid doesn’t pout or argue at all.
Okay, she’s really sick.
I get her out to my car and into her booster seat—yes, my car has one as well as Gabe’s truck—and I drive us out to the house.
Shelly sent a text to Gabe after she called me to let him know what’s going on, but I’m not sure whether he saw it yet.
Though knowing Gabe, it won’t be too long if he hasn’t.
He checks his phone often, just in case.
I get Amber set up in her bed with her favorite stuffies, her tablet, and some water before getting busy in the kitchen, making some chicken noodle soup for dinner. She said she’s not hungry yet, but hopefully, she will be by the time Gabe gets home.
Gabe and Shelly and Randy all text me a lot throughout the day, checking on our little princess, and by five, I’m ready to pass out.
Not that she’s being demanding at all—again, not normal for her, and I don’t like it—but because I’ve been worrying nonstop.
Going to check on her. Making sure her temp is going down.
Staying on top of medicine and water. Hoping she’ll eat a little, but she’s refused and gone back to sleep every time I ask her.
When Gabe gets home, I’m scooping chicken noodles into a bowl with fresh, hot mashed potatoes—just like my mom used to make. One of the few things she did right. Maybe that’s not fair, but I don’t have a lot of good things to say about my mom. And I’ve made peace with that.
I seem to have found my family now.
“That smells phenomenal,” Gabe says, walking toward me and kissing my cheek. “How’s our little germ magnet?”
“Shelly called her that too,” I say, frowning. It’s really not Amber’s fault she’s sick.
He just chuckles and kisses my nose. “Calm down. She knows she’s a germ magnet.” He winks and takes the bowl from me. “This going to her?”
“Yes.” I grab some chocolate milk, hoping she’ll be able to drink and eat. “And she’s doing a little better, but she didn’t want to eat at all today.
“That’s pretty normal for the first day or two. She’s been drinking?” he checks.
I nod. “Yes. I’ve been bugging the shit out of her all day,” I answer, making our way to her room. I grab a tray on the way in, so she can eat in bed.
“I had no doubt she’d be in good hands,” he says, and I know he means it. Even though I had no experience with kids when we first met, he trusts me with his daughter.
Which is a huge deal. No way I’d ever screw that up.
“Chicken noodles?” Oh, thank fuck, her eyes are lit up as she starts to sit up when we head into her room.
“Take it easy,” Gabe says sweetly and makes his way to her bed, the hot bowl of food in his big hands. I put the tray over her lap, and he places the bowl in front of her. “Hey, baby.”
“I feel poopy, Daddy.”
God, make it stop. Every time she says that, my heart pangs painfully. “I know. Dakota took good care of you though?”
She nods her head. “He made me drink a lot.” Her little nose scrunches. “And take gross medicine.”
Gabe only chuckles and kisses her forehead. “And your forehead isn’t burning up, so I’m going to say good for Dakota.”
She shrugs but smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen from her all day, so I’ll take it. She takes a bite, and I smile for the first time all day when she takes another one.
“Yummy,” she says. “This is better than Mommy’s!”
“Noooooo,” Gabe and I both groan because I still want Shelly to like me too, thank you very much, kid.
She just giggles and continues to eat while Gabe and I watch her nervously, like she might hurl at any minute, but she keeps it down.
When she’s done, I leave her chocolate milk with her and pat her little head before Gabe kisses her forehead again and promises to be in to check on her soon. We make our way to the kitchen and sit down to eat, telling each other about our day.
“I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with puke today.”
“Fuck, me too,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my eyes. “Though I would for her, you know?”
He gives me the world’s sweetest smile. “I know you would. I was worried today, but not about you not being able to take care of her. That kid loves you.”
“I love her too.”
He’s beaming now, taking a huge bite and chewing. “Fuck, this really is better than Shelly’s.”
“Do not ever say that to her,” I threaten him with a fork, and he just laughs.
“Did she want to go outside and play?” Gabe switches to Amber, and I shake my head.
“No. It was weird. She asked at Shelly’s if she could play with the kittens, but I said maybe after she got some rest, and she didn’t fight me at all. And she didn’t ask again.” I frown because that’s so weird for her.
The kid lives to go outside. Especially to play with the kittens, who follow her around nonstop.
“Give her time,” he says, placating me.
But it’s worrisome. “She loves playing outside.”
He just chuckles, having already gone through this many times. “Fuck, I love you.”
That gets my attention. “Not that I didn’t know that already, but why did you say it then?”
“Because you love my kid. And that just makes me love you even more.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
Hell, maybe it is.