Emma demanded. “We read Penelope’s tale already,” he told her. “Not hers. I want to hear the one you have in your head.” Christy smiled at the sight of the six-year-old, wearing her frilly pink nightgown, snuggled under Linc’s left arm, while Derek, clad in camouflage pj’s, lounged on the chair’s opposite arm. What struck her most with the scene was how comfortable Linc appeared. His smiles were wide and his touch gentle as he tousled Derek’s damp hair and tickled Emma’s ear. How had she ever thought him cold and unfeeling? “Aw, Emma, not again,” Derek moaned. “I want to hear the knight story and how he killed the dragon and slept under the stars with his trusty steed, Thunder.” “Trusty steed?” Christy chimed in as she perched on the edge of the sofa. “Oh, I want to hear about him, too.”
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