CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Matt stepped out of the shower, dried off, and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. Outside the small bathroom window, another rainstorm brewed. Tree branches swayed in the wind. A gust sent light rain pattering on the glass. Bree had already showered and headed downstairs, where they would grab leftovers and eat in the home office. As he walked out into the bedroom, a light knock sounded on the door. He crossed the room and opened it.
Kayla stood in the hall, shivering in blue pony pajamas with attached feet. She clutched her stuffed pig close to her face. “Is Aunt Bree here?”
Matt crouched in front of her. “She’s downstairs. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel good.” Her lower lip quivered, and her voice carried an uncharacteristic whine. Her cheeks were oddly flushed.
She looked feverish, but what did he know?
“Let’s go find Aunt Bree.” He held out a hand, and she took it with a sniff.
He led the way down to the kitchen, where Bree sat at the table with a cup of tea and a bowl. Ladybug and Brody flanked her chair. Brody’s eyes were closed. Begging was beneath him, but Ladybug’s attention followed the path of Bree’s spoon from her bowl to her mouth like she was watching a tennis match.
“Kayla?” Bree set down her spoon.
“My head hurts,” Kayla mumbled.
Matt opened the fridge and took out a container of risotto. He brought it to the table cold.
“I’ll get the thermometer.” Bree retrieved a fancy infrared model from the cabinet and turned it on.
“Mommy could tell by touching my forehead.” Kayla sniffed, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Matt’s heart cracked like an egg. Kayla hadn’t cried in a while. For the first few months after her mother died, she cried every day. She’d made incredible progress since then. But what sick kid didn’t want their mother?
“Where’s Dana?” Kayla swiped a sleeve under her red nose and coughed, the sound wet and, honestly, gross.
“Dana went to bed,” Bree said.
Kayla crawled into Matt’s lap. Surprised, he leaned back and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed into him, hugging her pig. Her whole body felt hot. She wasn’t usually clingy, and she hadn’t initiated more than a hug with him before. He felt sad and honored at the same time.
Bree pointed the thermometer at Kayla’s forehead and frowned. “You have a fever.”
Kayla nodded, then rested her head against Matt’s chest. “My ear hurts.”
Matt rubbed her back, and Bree dosed her with children’s fever reducer.
She caught Matt’s eye. “Want me to take her so you can eat?”
Dark circles underscored her eyes, and she looked almost as pale as her niece. Matt shook his head. “I’m fine. You finish your dinner.”
She settled back in her chair, ate a few spoonfuls of risotto, then pushed the bowl away. “It’s been a long day.”
Matt ate his risotto one-handed, with Kayla tucked into the crook of his other arm. By the time he’d finished, Kayla felt cooler.
“Can you go back to bed?” Bree asked her.
Kayla nodded.
“Want me to carry you?” Matt asked.
Kayla gave him a sleepy grin and nodded.
“I’ll bring you some water.” Bree pulled a refillable bottle from the cabinet.
Matt stood with Kayla in his arms. She weighed nothing. She burrowed into him as he carried her up the steps, into her room, and slid her into bed.
“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” Kayla whined.
“You have a fever, so you can stay home,” Matt said.
He tucked her stuffed pig under the covers with her, and Kayla snuggled under the comforter with it. At nine, she usually acted much older than she was. Grief aged a child. Since Matt had moved in, it had seemed as if she’d been on her best behavior all the time, not relaxed, not 100 percent natural. Tonight was the first time he felt like Kayla truly accepted him enough to not be perfect, to act like a regular kid, to be sick, grumpy, even a little needy.
“Would you read me a story?” Kayla asked.
“Sure.” Flattered, Matt perched on the edge of the bed. She’d never asked him to read to her before. Usually, she curled up with a book by herself. “Which one?”
“The Black Stallion.” She pointed to her bookshelf, which overflowed with books about horses, including the entire Black Stallion series.
Matt opened the well-worn paperback. “I read this when I was a boy.”
“You did?” Kayla nestled deeper into her pillow. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“A classic.” He knew from the parenting book he’d been reading that familiar stories were a source of comfort. Sometimes children wanted—needed—to already know how the story ended. He started with chapter one. The story was familiar and soothing to him too. In a few minutes, Kayla’s eyes closed, and her breaths grew deep and regular.
Bree walked into the room and set a water bottle on the nightstand. She raised her brows at the book in his hand.
He lifted a shoulder. Sliding a bookmark between the pages, he closed it and left it on the nightstand. Then he and Bree slunk out of the room.
In the hallway, Bree glanced back. “I hope she’s OK. It’s not like her to be so clingy.”
He slung an arm over her shoulder. “Kids get sick, and this is her first major illness without her mother.”
“I know.” But she sounded uncertain. “Thanks for helping. It’s hard to reconcile my life before with my life now. It’s been a learning curve that I’m still steadily climbing, like Mount Everest.”
“Thanks for sharing your life with me.”
“You’re thanking me for allowing you to take on a portion of my workload?” Bree snorted.
“Yes.” In the bedroom, Matt turned her to face him. He rested his hands on her shoulders. The fact that Bree trusted him with the kids meant everything. “I’m here to stay, sick kids, demanding horses, a cat who pukes in my shoes, all of it.”
She looked up at him, her eyes bright. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I like to think it’s fate, not luck.” The answer was simple to him. “I love you. The kids are a huge part of your life.”
“The most important part,” she said.
He didn’t take offense. His parents had always put their children first. “So, now those kids are a huge part of my life too. Then the only way this”—he gestured between them—“will work is if we function as a team. Otherwise, we’re living together but still have separate lives. That’s not what I want.” He wanted it all, every part of her. He wanted what his parents had. Though he couldn’t define it, he knew by instinct what it should feel like.
This.
Exactly this.
Bree smiled. “I love you too.”
“Love you more.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Speaking of teamwork, I’ll call my dad first thing in the morning, and he’ll be over here with his medical bag to check on her.” Matt’s father was a retired family doctor. He and Kayla had bonded over the past few months. She’d asked to call him Grandpa, and his heart had melted.
Bree smiled. “Your dad is the best.”
“He loves you and the kids too.” Matt had always been close to his parents, but he’d never appreciated them more than during the past few years. They’d gotten him through the shooting and loss of his career in law enforcement. Now, they’d absorbed Bree and her entire household into the family.
Matt and Bree brushed their teeth side by side and climbed into bed. It felt as if Matt had barely closed his eyes when a little voice said, “I threw up.”