Jason pulled up to the daycare, eyes scanning the area out of pure instinct. You never knew what kind of creeps lurked around—dealers, lowlifes, people who had no business being anywhere near kids.

Disgusting.

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to relax as he shut off the engine. After a moment, he stepped out of the car and headed inside.

The familiar scent of crayons, paint, and that weirdly sweet daycare smell greeted him. Down the hall, the sound of tiny voices chattering and giggling filled the air.

Parenthood was still new to him. Hell, when he first found out you were pregnant, he thought it was a bad joke.

It wasn’t. Obviously.

And now? Now he loved it. Every milestone, every tiny moment—watching his kid take their first steps, hearing them learn new words, seeing their face light up when they spotted him. He never thought he’d have something like this. But he did. And he wasn’t letting go of it.

Leaning against the doorframe, he spotted his kid across the room. The second they saw him, a big, toothy grin spread across their face, and they bolted toward him on unsteady little legs.

Jason crouched, scooping them up effortlessly. "Hey there," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of their head. "How was daycare?"