Page 53 of Made for Mayhem

She was holding herself together with noise and movement and sheer willpower, and it only made me want to protect her more.

By the time we made it to the front door, shoes on and Rowdy waiting, Daisy held her palm up.

“Good work, partner.”

“Partner?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “You’re the bedtime whisperer. I handle morning meltdowns. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

I huffed out a laugh and smacked my hand against hers.

The warmth shot straight through me.

Junie darted out to my truck humming Safety Dance, and Rowdy hopped in the truck with her.

“Will you be okay today?” I asked from the porch steps. “I need to catch up on some paperwork at the hardware store, but…”

But I didn’t want to leave.

Daisy’s grin snapped into place like armor, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Let me guess—a tiny little mom-and-pop store that was going out of business before you saved it?”

When I didn’t answer, her eyes widened.

“Wait, seriously?” she laughed. “You did.”

I exhaled through my nose. “You probably shouldn’t ask about the rink either.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You can’t be this nice and have a mustache.”

“Is that a rule?”

Her gaze dipped to my mouth and lingered there for a beat too long. “It should be.”

My pulse jumped hard enough to be a problem, but she just smiled, not caring that she’d just set the air between us on fire.

“See you later, Huddy.” She turned to go back inside, hair swinging, bare legs flashing with every step.

I should’ve let her go, but without Junie or music filling the space, the strain in her expression was impossible to miss.

“Daisy,” I said before I could stop myself.

She paused in the doorway, glancing back. The brightness in her expression held, but barely.

“If you need help today,” I said carefully, “with arrangements. With any of it. You don’t have to do that alone.”

For half a second, something real flickered across her face.

Not humor. Not deflection.

Just grief.

Then she blinked, quick as a shutter.

“I’m fine,” she said, too fast, voice too light. “I’m basically the mayor of Doing Great.”

Before I could say anything else, Junie yelled from the truck, “Come on, Ty!”

Daisy waved a hand at me, already stepping back like she needed the space. “Go be responsible, Mr. Fix It. We’ve got this. I’m good.”