She grins and stands, and I join her as we walk to the porch. “Oh, I need to return this and your T-shirt to you.”

She plucks at the hoodie, and I scowl.

“The fuck you do. You’re keeping that. I love seeing you in my shit. I don’t want it back.”

“You didn’t let me finish. I need to give them back to you because I’ve worn them pretty much nonstop for the past week, and they don’t smell like you anymore. I need them to smell like you.”

Without a word, I march over to my house, quietly let myself in so I don’t wake my daughter, and gather up a sweatshirt I wore yesterday, along with two of my T-shirts out of my drawer, then walk back to where Dani’s still sitting on the porch and hold them out for her.

“Here. You can have them all. Keep them.”

Her eyes bounce from mine to the clothes I’m holding, and then she takes them and buries her nose in them, inhaling deeply.

“Nothing smells better than you,” she murmurs, and it makes my heart stutter again, and my cock twitch. “Hold on.”

She hurries inside and returns ten seconds later with the T-shirt, and passes it to me. Then, she looks around to see if anyone’s watching, turns her back to the street, and quickly strips out of my hoodie, shoves it at me, and replaces it with the zip-up I just gave her, pulling the zipper all the way to her neck.

She buries her face in the red material and sighs happily.

“That’s so much better.”

“You just stripped on your porch, kitten.”

“I wanted to trade you.” She shrugs while still sniffing my sweatshirt. “No one saw.”

“You’d better hope they didn’t, because if anyone sees what’s mine, I’ll fucking tear their eyes out of their head. Don’t do that again.”

She blinks and then walks right into my arms, holding me tightly around the middle, her head pressed to my chest. “Okay.”