Davis
I wake up alone.
For a split second, I think that last night might have been a dream. But I can still smell her perfume on the sheets and pillows. It's nearly nine. I'm usually up at seven on the weekend with Archer. I pull on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and head downstairs. I can hear Daisy humming in the kitchen and Archer babbling at her.
"Waffle!" Archer shouts with a laugh as I walk in.
"Dad-dee," he says pointing at the tray of his high chair. "Waffles!"
"I see that," I say with a yawn. Daisy is showered and dressed, pouring the batter into the waffle iron. I'm debating on whether or not I should kiss her good morning. I forget the morning after etiquette. I go with the 'kiss her' option. I step up behind her, lift her hair and drop a kiss on the back of her neck. She shivers, before turning her head.
"Hi," she says in a whisper. She kisses me. I linger over her mouth, licking her top lip, forcing her to open hers. She gives a little sigh as I kiss her deeper.
"Ohhh Dad-dee tiss Day-dee," Archer squeals from his high chair. We pull away from each other with a laugh and I sit down next to Archer. Daisy serves me a heaping pile of waffles.
"Waffles, Dad-dee," Archer says pointing to my waffles.
"Are they good?" I ask him as I pour on the syrup. Archer nods his head, stuffing a giant piece into his mouth.
He's not lying. Daisy's waffles are delicious, much like the rest of her. She finally finishes cooking and sits down across from me and Archer to eat. I pour her a cup of coffee and give her a wink.
"We should go on a date tonight," I announce. Daisy arches an eyebrow.
"Are you asking or telling me?" she teases me, licking a drop of syrup off her bottom lip. I falter for a moment. I'm so out of touch with how things go that I open my mouth to say something and my mind goes blank. Daisy laughs, covering her mouth.
"Forget how all this works?" she giggles, "or are you reverting back to your Viking roots?"
She takes a huge bite of her waffles and smirks at me.
"How do you know I have Viking roots?" I ask.
"I don't know," she shrugs. "You are nine feet tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Not really breaking any stereotypes, Davis."
My great grandparents were from Denmark but Billie could have told her that.
"And what nationality are you?" I question.
"German, I think, maybe a little Swedish. I'll have to ask my dad," she replies.
"Will you go out with me tonight?" I turn back to my original point. She sips her coffee and stares at me.
"Are you asking me because Ben did or because you want to?" she asks.
"I was jealous of Ben because he beat me to the punch. I was working up the courage," I tell her honestly. I don't want her to think this is some kind of weird competition between me and Ben.
"Courage?" she scoffs, "to ask me out?" She says this like it shouldn't be a big deal.
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact. I haven't asked anyone out for almost 20 years. I forgot how nerve-wracking it can be," I explain. She stares at me as if to gauge whether or not I'm telling the truth.
"Where?" she questions.
"Axe tossing then dinner," I blurt out off the top of my head. She nods her head, impressed.
YOU ARE READING
The Storm
عاطفيةDavis Pedersen thought he had it all until tragedy struck. The sudden loss of his wife sends him spiraling. Widowed with a son, he realizes he needs help rebuilding his life. Enter Daisy Meyers, a woman eager to find a place for herself in the worl...
