at me as she stepped in front of her dad and grabbed the door. Months before, she had let him open the door for her. Now, she was doing it herself, and every time Heath tried to do it, he felt the sting of his little girl not wanting his help. How did I know? I could see and smell it, but past that, I was once the same little girl, rejecting the help of an adult because I could do it myself.
The poor man is never going to survive her teenage years.
“So, what are we doing today?” Carey grinned at me as she put her seat belt on. I lowered her car window so Heath could say something before we drove away.
“I was thinking we would try baking that cookie recipe. The one I told you about last week.”
“The strawberry ones?” Her face lit up like the sun.
“Yup. What do you need, Heath?” I looked around her and smiled at her father, knowing he was probably getting annoyed with waiting.
“I want her home by nine tonight. You can feed her dinner. I’ve got calls to make, it seems, and she’s better off with you while Landon and I work.”
“A whole extra hour…” I sighed. “Fine.” I dragged it out, smirking at Carey, whose laugh echoed around my car.
“Funny.” Heath shook his head in disapproval before kissing his daughter’s forehead and stepping back up onto the dark wood, wraparound porch.
“He loves you,” I whispered to her, closing the window. “Let him open the door sometimes.”
“It’s weird. I can open the door by myself.”
He’s trying to teach you what a gentleman does. I didn’t say that to her, but it ran across my mind. How many times had I talked to Shane about that? How women looked to their fathers, who were great or terrible examples of men. Heath was a great father, there was no denying that, and I knew Carey wouldn’t recognize how good for at least another few years. Maybe when a boy breaks her heart for the first time or hurts her feelings.
“Just do it. He’ll appreciate letting you remind him you’re still his little girl.”
“No one opens your doors. Or pays for you. Or anything like that.” She shrugged like that was explanation enough.
“Because I’m an adult.” And I would love a man to open the door for me if he wants to sleep with me, but that’s not something I can tell you. “And he’s not my father. My father will still try to open the door for me.” I pulled out of the driveway and began the short drive home with her. She had this intense look of concentration on her face for a moment then popped a question I was expecting.
“Your human dad or your werecat dad?”
“Both,” I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “But my human dad doesn’t know where I am or can’t see me anymore.”
“Could he find you? If something bad happens?”
“No,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I took the last name, Leon, right after I was Changed. It’s common for our kind. Not that last name specifically, just a new one. I thought I was being funny.”
“What’s your real name?”
I gave her a side-eyed expression, letting her know she wasn’t going to learn that ever. Heath knew and he’d been able to track down my human family. When I thought about it, it was funny. He could back track my life to humanity and learn about me, but he couldn’t find anything about my werecat life. Oh, he’d found fake names and bank accounts, which had taken him years to put together, but he couldn’t connect me with Hasan or the rest of the family, something the family took a lot of care with, not only for my privacy but also for theirs. Unless someone knew beforehand, they weren’t going to find out without someone in the family telling them. Since werecats never offered that information to outsiders, the secret was safe.
“Why are you so nosy today?” I asked as I turned down the highway to get to my bar.
“Because I can.” She gave the same nonchalant shrug from earlier. “I like hearing about you. You’re my friend.”
“Thank you.” I smiled down at her. “Cookies and cards tonight, though. I’m not up for a lot of heavy conversation.”
“Okay.” She smiled back and pulled her legs up to her chest, sitting in a little secure ball in the passenger’s seat. “You know my birthday is next month, right?”