“I know you are.” Maybe she was, but I wasn’t. I faked it well, though. “Okay, all purchased.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Finley plopped a kiss on my cheek and hopped off the couch, brushing her curls out of her face.

“They won’t get in the way if you let me pull it up,” I reminded her.

“Ponytails are boring,” she declared, skipping every age to thirteen.

A knock at the door saved her from my eye roll.

“We could stop by Grammy’s and ask Aunt Brie to braid it for you,” I suggested as Fin bolted toward the door.

“Nope. She has really long nails.”

“What?” That had exactly what to do with braiding?

“It’s Morgan!” Finley called out, jumping up and down to see out the glass side panel of the front door.

My heart rate kicked up, and I had the ridiculous urge to check myself in the mirror as I walked toward the door. Get a damn grip. But in my defense, I’d only seen her in passing over the last week, and this was the first time she’d ever knocked on my door.

“Can I?” Fin asked, her hands already on the knob.

“Yep. You can always let Morgan in.” Which now made six people on Finley’s always-allowed list: Brie, Sarah, Sawyer, Garrett, Vivian, and now Morgan.

“Yay!” She flung open the door. “I can always let you in!”

“Awesome!” Morgan held out her hand for a low-five. Fin gave it to her with a megawatt grin.

“Come in!” Finley backed up and held out her arm like a gracious pint-sized hostess.

“Why, thank you,” Morgan said, walking in.

She was in a white, thick-strapped tank top and short khaki shorts that reached midthigh, drawing my eyes to her legs. Not that I needed a reason, because my attention always found its way there with Morgan. She was also wearing the same maroon ball cap from the pictures. His ball cap.

Damn, I wished I hadn’t gone snooping.

“Did you come to see my daddy?” Finley asked, shutting the door behind her.

Morgan flashed me a small smile before turning back to Fin. “Nope, I actually came to see you.” She dropped down to Fin’s eye level.

“You did?” Fin brushed her hair out of her face.

“I did! I was walking the beach with Sam this morning, and I found this!” She opened her hand, revealing a small, perfect conch shell.

“Ooh! It’s so pretty!” Fin leaned in close, examining the shell.

“It’s yours,” Morgan said as she handed it over.

“Really? It’s almost perfect.”

Ah, and so the search continued.

“That’s exactly what I thought when I saw it!”

Fin grabbed Morgan’s still-outstretched hand and examined her fingernails. “Can you braid?”

Morgan blinked at the subject change, but then nodded. “I can.”