Beloved
He heard the squeal the second his boot touched the dock, and turned to see his pride and joy running towards him, chubby little legs working overtime to get to him as quickly as possible. Unable to take his eyes off her, he stepped away from the gangway and crouched down, enveloping her in his arms as soon as her body collided with his. Kissing the top of her head, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. She smelled like home.
Buffer had never felt homesick before she'd been born; his mother lived too far away for him to see regularly, and he'd never had a girlfriend serious enough to wish he could be with her 24/7. But with Cara, every moment away from her was heartbreaking. He'd missed her first smile, her first steps, the first time she crawled. The one 'first' he had been present for was her first words, and it was a memory he held very close to his heart.
During the pregnancy, they'd joked about him being wrapped around her little finger, but he hadn't understood exactly what it meant until he held her in his arms for the first time. Devoted was putting it lightly. There was no end to Buffer's patience when it came to Cara, whether it be giving piggyback rides, playing dolls with her or – once – allowing her to paint his toenails bright pink. The boys had teased him mercilessly when he'd worn thongs to the pub that night, and not even his best deadly stare had dissuaded them.
"Hey Pete," a familiar voice caused him to open his eyes, and he looked up to see Cara's mother standing in front of them.
He grinned and swung Cara into his arms as he stood up. "Nikki," he said, moving the child to one hip and hugging Nav with the other arm.
"How was the trip?" She asked, looking longingly at the Hammersley.
"Routine. Illegal fishermen and illegal immigrants. Some things never change." He blinked as Cara patted him on the head, hard. "Some things do."
"Put me down!" Cara exclaimed suddenly, pushing at the arm holding her.
Buffer set her on the dock, lunging to catch her when she jumped out of his arms before her feet touched the ground. "She looks more and more like you every day," he commented, feeling Nav's hand tighten in his as they watched Cara run to greet Bomber and Spider.
"She acts just like her father." The tinge of sadness in Nav's voice would have been undetectable to someone who didn't know her as well as Buffer did.
He glanced at her, but she was focused on her daughter, oblivious to the tears pooling in her eyes. "Hey," he nudged her shoulder, smiling tightly when she turned her attention to him. "It's on Sunday, right?"
"Yeah, the 12th. Five years," she sighed heavily, but wiped the tears away and put on a smile when she saw Cara approaching, now sitting on Spider's shoulders.
"Mummy, daddy, look what Spidey gave me!" She called, clutching an object in a waving hand.
The adults froze, all eyes on Buffer. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the four-year-old atop his friend's shoulders, moving towards Spider to take Cara off him. Once she was back on the ground, he crouched in front of her, looking deep into her eyes. Her face was a miniature of her mother's, but her eyes were the exact same colour as her father's. Vivid blue.
Taking both of her tiny hands in his huge ones, Buffer chose his words carefully. "I'm not your daddy, sweetheart."