Daddy had placed my camera on one of the stools, so I unpacked it, attached the lens, and joined him on his side of the island. He’d completed the setup with the dinner plate on a thick cutting board, and he’d strewn some cranberries around the plate. There was also his favorite knife, a dark-red dish towel on the side, and a small gravy boat.

He was getting better at this part, but there was a reason I handled the pictures and the presentation of the dishes he made. I was the one with a degree in photography and design. Daddy just wanted “peace and quiet,” and for people to enjoy his cooking.

“I was picking the winners from your Insta,” I explained, as that was my task for the day, “and it’s possible I got stuck on one follower.”

“What a surprise,” he drawled. “My boy got distracted by a shiny object.”

I giggled and took some photos from different angles, adjusting the settings as well as the setup along the way. Daddy thought a single photo was enough to promote a video series, when in reality, it was more like a hundred.

“It’s a very hot object,” I said in my defense. “And I guess…well, maybe, just maybe, I ended up going through his entire Instagram.”

Daddy chuckled and grabbed a beer from the fridge, then rounded the island and took a seat there to give me space. “Why do I get the feelin’ you’re gonna choose winners for the wrong reason? It’s for a cooking class, not a modeling contest.”

I looked up from the viewfinder and mock-scowled.

He just flashed me one of his charming, super-sexy smiles.

After six years with my Daddy, that smile still disarmed me.

But that smile was also a reminder of our complicated situation, and in order to see my Daddy smile more, it was time to test the waters. Or rather, it was time to leave the shallow end of the pool.

It was time to start inviting a third party for play again. Otherwise, we’d never find our missing piece. And before we even went that far, we actually had to meet people and see if there was any chemistry.