Chapter 6
SIX
JARED
We’ve already been to the aquarium at least twenty times. But this trip might be my favorite.
There’s something so fun about watching Hannah bounce from tank to tank. The way she presses her face to the glass, as if being so close will help her take it all in better.
The way she traces little pictures on the glass with her fingers, as if she’s somehow communicating with the marine life swimming on the other side.
There’s also Delaney.
It’s nice having someone to share a grin with over Hannah’s antics.
And though we’ve touched each other in infinitely more intimate ways, there’s something about the brush of her hand against mine.
The way it makes my pulse quicken.
The way it makes me want more.
Like the kiss this morning. It wasn’t supposed to happen. We laid out clear rules from the start. But I can’t forget the way it felt to taste her. To feel her melt into me.
The way we fit so well together.
The way the scent of her coconut body lotion still clings to me hours later.
It makes me want to take her hand. To feel her pulse thrum against mine.
“Daddy!” Hannah races back to take both our hands. “Come look. It’s a sea cucumber!”
“I see it, sweetheart.” I squint at the tank. “It looks squishier than the cucumbers we usually eat.”
Delaney blanches next to me. “Great. I think I’m off eating cucumbers ever again.”
“Oh, come on. They’re not so bad. Just make sure you eat one that isn’t so squishy.”
“Could you please stop talking about squishy cucumbers? You’re going to ruin my appetite.”
“And here I was thinking I was just here to see the jellyfish and make faces at the sea lions.”
“And the company.” She nudges. “Don’t forget you came for the company.”
The grin on my face softens. “I don’t think I could.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever forget a moment of today. I wouldn’t want to either.
Later, after a lunch of octopus and starfish-shaped macaroni and cheese, the three of us find a quiet spot near the penguin enclosure.
Though she swears she doesn’t need a nap, Hannah is sleepily munching on a bag of goldfish crackers. Every so often, she leans into me, before sitting upright.
She’s humming a sweet melody under her breath.
“What’s that song you’re singing?” I ask.
“It’s one Delaney sang to me before bed.”
“Oh.” I arch an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’ve heard it before. What’s it called?”
“What’s it called?” she asks, gazing up at Delaney, a face full of wonder.
“It’s called, ‘No Rest for the Wicked.’”
I blink at that. “Is that a kids song?”
“It’s one she wrote,” Hannah answers. “Delaney is a singer.”
Both of my eyebrows shoot up now. “You are?”
“Yep,” Hannah replies proudly. “And she plays the guitar and writes songs too.”
“Really?”
Delaney’s cheeks flush. “It’s no big deal. A lot of people write and sing songs.”
“I don’t,” I say.
“Me neither,” Hannah says. “Well, I sing. But I don’t think I’ve written any songs.” Her brow knits together. “Have I?”
The grown-ups share a look and a chuckle. Hannah starts to nod off. Once she’s almost out, I wrap an arm around her and turn back to Delaney.
“So, what do you do when you aren’t writing and singing songs?”
“You mean, besides finding handsome single dads on the Internet.”
My dick twitches at that and I frown. “Behave. We’re in public and we have an audience.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smirks. “I have a customer service job. It’s mostly remote. Nothing exciting. But it pays the bills.”
“While you pursue what you love.” I nod. “That takes guts.”
She smiles. It’s both soft and a little sad. “Thanks. I keep trying. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just setting myself up for disappointment.”
I nod.
“What about you?” she asks. “What was your dream?”
“I always wanted to be a firefighter,” I admit. “Even when I was a kid. I liked the idea of being the one people could call when they needed help.”
“You are that,” she says. “At work and at home.”
I look away, my heart thudding.
“I didn’t expect this,” I say. “You. Her. Any of this.”
She leans her head against my shoulder. “Me neither.”
We sit like that for a while, listening to the soft chitter of penguins and the squeal of kids nearby.
Then she asks, “Do you ever think about having more?”
“More what?”
“Kids.”
I exhale slowly. “Yeah. Maybe. Someday. I love being a dad, even when it’s hard.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “I think I want them. Someday. But only if it’s with the right person. My mom did it on her own. But…”
“No, I get it.” I nod. “Makes sense.”
The conversation settles between us. And then?—
“Delaney!” Hannah perks up, as if she wasn’t just asleep. Her face lit with excitement. “Do you wanna get your picture taken in the photo booth?”
Delaney laughs and waits for my nod. “Of course.”
We all pile into the booth, and I watch them giggle through filters—squid hats, scuba goggles, shark teeth. At one point, Delaney lifts Hannah onto her lap while my daughter makes a goofy face for the camera.
And that’s when it hits me.
She fits here. With us.
Which was never supposed to be how this went.
Our arrangement was supposed to be casual. Just a fling. A way for two lonely people to itch a scratch.
But now… Now I don’t know.
Would it be so bad to open myself up again? Especially if it’s for Delaney?