Hank McBee’s rounded, ruddy face appeared on the screen, far too close to the camera. “Hey, Daddy, all I’m seeing is forehead.”

“Oh, right.” Her dad leaned away from the laptop and waved merrily. “Hey there, shortcake. Your mama’s in the shower. Misty McGee had her twins last night. Mama didn’t get back until the wee hours.”

Charlotte shuddered, suddenly glad to be dealing with just one baby at a time, even if the baby was part dragon.

“So how’s it going in Name Redacted Bayou?” Hank said.

“Very funny,” she sighed. Her father had been calling her his “the spy who delivered babies” since she swore her parents to secrecy over her location.

“In all seriousness, I know it’s insulting to your role as a professional when I fuss over my grown daughter, but I’m worried about you, sweetheart,” he said. “If you think that the mood in town is shifting, you high-tail it for home.”

“I couldn’t leave my patients,” she replied. “Besides, I’d be better protected here than I would be at home, with all of the League resources we have here. If anything, I’d want you and Mama to come here. I don’t think our neighbors are going to take too well to the idea that you and Mama have been lyin’ to them all this time.”

“You let me worry about that,” he said. “So how are things in the eye of the storm?”

“It’s going well. Busy, but the people are really nice.”

Charlotte was smiling dreamily, thinking of Leonard, before she realized it.

Her daddy’s brown eyes narrowed and he grinned. “Any one person in particular?”

Dang it. She never had been able to hide anything from her father. He may not have had supernatural powers, but he could sniff out a lie like a freaking bloodhound.

“Maybe,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “We’ve just met, so who knows.”

“Well, sometimes you just know” he said. “And sometimes, people don’t figure out they made a mistake until they’re half-way down the aisle. You don’t have to rush things. Hell, it took me months before I convinced your mama to go on a date with me.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go around telling people that,” Charlotte told him.

“It was called courtship, back then, shortcake,” Hank said.

She pursed her lips. “Mmmhmmm.”

“Is he a nice boy?” her father asked.

“He’s a nice man,” she replied, snickering when he pulled a disgusted face. “He’s perfectly sweet and downright gentlemanly.”

“Is he like you and Mama? Or like me?” Hank asked.

It was a delicate question. Charlotte’s grandmother hadn’t been entirely thrilled with Hank as a mate for Lizzie. There had always been some hope that Lizzie would meet another fae, but still, Grandma wanted Lizzie to be happy. And Hank made Lizzie very happy.

“He’s human, but there are complications,” Charlotte said.