Connor’s POV
I walk into the store, Grace clinging to my shirt, her tiny fists wrapped in the thin fabric as she tries to chew a hole in the collar. I can feel the wetness from her drool and wonder how the hell I missed the fact that she was teething.
Grabbing a cart, I gently ease my daughter from my clothes, strapping her into the plastic seat, as she lets me know that she’s unhappy with this new arrangement.
‘I’m sorry baby girl, but I need my hands to get what you need’ I tell her, wiping away the angry tears from her face. Grace merely stares back at me, her bottom lip quivering as she gears herself up for another eardrum shattering cry, Jesus, I need to get this done quick.
I hurry into the store, moving through the crowd of early morning shoppers who it seems have nowhere they n
