Chapter Eleven LIAM
Chapter Eleven
L IAM
Mira sat on the couch and stared up at me with those big eyes.
“You listening?” I asked her.
She nodded. “I listening.”
“All right.” I set my hands on my hips. “Here’s the deal. You don’t get to choose sleepovers all the time, yeah? You still need to stay with Zoe, because she’s better at this shit than I am.”
Mira blinked. “I stay here.”
“Tonight, yeah. Tomorrow, you go back to Zoe’s.”
“I stay here,” she said again. “Zoe stay here too.”
The reaction in my gut was immediate and visceral.
Absolutely fucking not, I thought. I would rather have strung myself up by my toes than have shared a house with a woman who had no idea she was stuck under my skin like a fucking tick.
But a sexy tick.
With big eyes and wild hair and a perfect smile.
“No. Zoe has her own house. And that’s where you’re gonna be sleeping tomorrow night.”
Then, as I’d swear it in a court of law, that little girl made a decision in her devious little brain that I’d rue the day I ever crossed her about this.
When her eyes sharpened and her jaw notched up, it almost fucking took my breath away how much she looked like her dad at that moment.
“Duck,” I said in a warning tone, “we’re not arguing about this right now. We’re having a good night, aren’t we? You ate an entire fucking meal, and that’s a first. Let’s not muck it up with a temper tantrum when you’re already getting your way. If we have problems tonight, she’ll probably never let you stay here again, and I’m kinda getting used to your afternoon visits. We won’t tell her that, because I’ve got a reputation to uphold, but I think I’d be bored out of my mind if you stopped coming over. I don’t mind watching you when I know she’s right next door. Don’t tell her that either, because she’d gloat forever. So if you argue with me now, we risk all that. Okay?”
I’d never been around a ton of kids, so I had no real points of comparison, but I didn’t know how Mira could speak so well and seemingly understand so much at her age. Maybe she was a fucking prodigy or something. But bloody hell, I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that my logic made sense to her.
She’d been good all evening. Almost too good.
No fussing or throwing fits about anything. She ate nearly her entire dinner—it helped that I’d started buying all the shit I knew she’d eat, just to keep it in the house. Like chicken nuggets in the shapes of fucking dinosaurs and letters. If I thought too hard about how they got chicken into those shapes, I’d probably never let her eat them.
“I’ll even turn on that movie again , as long as we get through this night in peace so that Valentine doesn’t think I’m completely mucking this up, okay?”
Mira eyed the TV screen, then me again, clearly considering her options.
“We watch Moana again?” she verified.
I sighed. “Yeah, but I’ll probably regret it, because yesterday at the field, I almost sang ‘You’re Welcome’ to someone who said thank you, and it made me want to take a drill to my temple.”
Mira dragged her stuffed duck from the couch cushion to her lap, where she wrapped her arms around it and buried her face into the faded yellow, fuzzy covering.
“Zoe bought you that duck,” I told her as I took my seat on the couch and cued up the movie.
Mira nodded, rubbing her nose against the duck’s bill. It was a little matted and clearly well loved after being lugged everywhere. “My birthday present,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “your first birthday present. I remember her bringing it to the hospital.”
The duck had seemed so big at the time, dwarfing the impossibly tiny bundle in that white blanket with the blue-and-pink stripes.
“Mommy and Daddy in the hospital too?”
“They were there that day too, yeah,” I told her.
As I watched her face, I found myself holding my breath. The last time Chris and Amie had come up, the whole evening had turned to utter shit. But Mira simply snuggled back into the couch, turning her legs to the side so that she could press her feet tight against my thigh while we watched.
“Why do you do that?” I asked her. “The foot thing. You’re always pushing your feet against me while we watch something.”
Instead of answering, she clutched the duck closer to her chest and glued her eyes to the screen, her little feet pressing against my legs.
I sighed, pulling my book from the end table by the couch. My phone was next to it, and I noticed the screen lighting up.
Valentine: What’s she doing? Is she okay?
Me: We’re watching a movie. She’s fine, relax.
Valentine: Do you realize that telling a woman to relax when she’s worried about something has literally never achieved the desired results?
Me: Valentine, I’d never dream of you listening to me anyway, so it was an empty directive.
Valentine: At least you’re aware.
I set my phone down with a beleaguered sigh.
There were a million reasons I’d gone so long on my own. It wasn’t a lack of options—being a football player alone made it disgustingly easy, if that had been the path I wanted to take.
It wasn’t even a lack of attraction. I’d met women who were beautiful, funny, and smart. I’d met women who piqued my interest.
But once you’d learned how to cage your instincts, it was almost impossible to unleash them at the right time.
My whole life, I’d known that starting a family wasn’t for me. I’d never, ever risk repeating the cycle I’d been born into. The one my mum had gotten us out of. The wall I’d built around those particular wants and desires was thick concrete. My own Hoover Dam, holding back torrents of emotion.
So, yeah, I said stupid shit to Zoe, like telling her to relax when I damn well knew she wouldn’t relax.
With that thought in my head, I dozed off while the movie played in the background and Mira’s tiny feet arched into my leg from time to time.
When it was over, she stayed curled up on the couch, her eyes drowsy.
I studied her face. “You feel okay, duck?”
“I just tired,” she said.
My brows furrowed. She never admitted she was tired, even if she was tired. “Let’s go get ready for bed then, yeah?”
Mira clutched her duck in one hand and dragged it up the stairs behind her.
She didn’t put up a single fuss when I brushed her teeth, which was my second hint that something wasn’t quite right. She perched quietly on the bathroom counter and opened wide when I wielded her sparkly pink toothbrush.
“You sure you’re all right?” I asked.
Mira nodded, then held her arms out so that I could help her get down from the counter. Gently, I lifted her off the edge and settled her feet on the floor. Mira walked quietly back into her room, gathering the necessary stuffed animals and tossing them into her crib.
I set her inside, and she gave me a big-eyed look that made me want to tear my ribs out.
“I kiss you,” she said.
My heart turned over, remembering what Zoe had told me. I leaned down, smoothing the hair off her face, and pressed a featherlight kiss onto her forehead.
Her incredibly warm forehead.
“You normally feel this warm, duck?” I asked her.
But Mira immediately lay down, settling into the corner of the crib that she liked best and pulling her duck in toward her face.
I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead again, but my hands were so calloused that I probably could have held them over a fire and hardly noticed the heat.
My stomach tightened uncomfortably.
I walked out of Mira’s room and started searching through a hallway closet, but I couldn’t find a thermometer.
With a deep breath, I pushed open the door to Chris and Amie’s room. It was the only room in the house that I left alone. I still felt a bit like I was intruding into someone’s private space, despite the fact that I’d been living in their house for the last couple of weeks.
I didn’t study the large framed photos on the wall and kept my gaze straight ahead, directed toward their massive bathroom suite.
The soaking tub in the corner was big enough that I could fit comfortably inside, and that was saying something because I never fit into bathtubs. The shower—with glass walls and beautiful tiles—was about as big as my current bed.
And along the back wall, next to the toilet, was another door. I opened it up and saw a bin labeled “Mira—Medicine.” I pulled it out, passing my hands over bottles of liquid ibuprofen and boxes of Band-Aids. Tucked in the back was a wand that looked sort of like a speed gun that a cop might use.
I held it up and shrugged.
When I peeked back in on Mira, I saw that she had fallen fast asleep in the short time I’d been gone from the room. My chest felt heavy, like someone had parked a linebacker right over my sternum and I couldn’t move the fucker no matter what I did.
Zoe was right next door, I reminded myself as I aimed the thermometer gun at Mira’s forehead and pressed the blue button.
It emitted a small beep, and the screen flashed red.
“Shit,” I whispered.
One-oh-two point five.
That was bad, right? I’d had a fever the year before, hardly above one hundred, and I’d thought I was dying for about twenty-four hours.
I swiped a hand over my mouth and straightened.
Mira bolted up in bed, her eyes blank.
I settled a hand on her back. “What’s wrong, duck?” I whispered.
She didn’t see me, though. She started spewing nonsensical words and glancing around the room. Her hands started patting the duck.
Bloody fucking hell, what was I supposed to do with a feverish sleep-talking child?
I gently patted her back and made a small shushing noise. “Back to sleep now,” I whispered. “Come on.”
She blinked a few times, still not seeing me, then fell back onto the bed and snuggled up against her duck.
I tried very hard not to sprint down the stairs, deciding to bypass my phone completely. If Zoe was asleep, she wouldn’t be for long.
I pushed open the gate connecting our yards and strode quickly to her back slider, then knocked on the glass.
“It’s me,” I called. “Come on, Zoe, I need those fucking binders or something.”
A light flipped on in her family room, and she pulled a blanket tight around her shoulders as she unlocked the door. “What is it?”
“She’s got a fever.” I was out of breath. How was I out of breath from just crossing one backyard? “A bad one.”
Zoe nodded. “Okay, let me pull some pants on, and I’ll be right over.”
My eyes darted unwillingly down the bare length of her legs—and locked there.
Underneath the blanket, Zoe was wearing a long T-shirt, and that was it.
“Right,” I managed. Then my gaze snapped back to her face. “I’ll be in her room.”
I jogged back to the house and took the stairs two at a time, then paced Mira’s room with my arms crossed until I heard Zoe coming up the steps.
My heart was racing.
She came into the room, and I moved out of the way. Zoe leaned over the crib and gently pushed Mira’s hair out of her face, making a small humming noise as she pressed the backs of her fingers to Mira’s forehead. “She’s a bit warm, yeah.”
“A bit,” I barked out. “That fucking little thing was flashing red at me when I scanned her. Red lights are never a good thing, Zoe.”
She gave me a tiny smile.
Why the fuck was she smiling? This was an emergency, for fuck’s sake.
When she exhaled a laugh, I realized a bit too late that I’d said it out loud.
With a small shake of her head, Zoe picked up the thermometer and scanned Mira’s forehead again.
One-oh-one point nine.
I punched a finger in the air. “That thing is full of shit; it was higher for me.”
“How much higher?” Zoe asked.
“One-oh-two point five.” I tucked my arms tight against my chest again. “Shouldn’t we take her in or something? There’s an emergency room not far from here. I can go put that fucking car seat back in if you want me to drive, because I refuse to drive that shit little car you’ve got.”
Zoe stared at me for a few moments, and there was this soft fucking look in her big golden eyes.
“Why the bloody fuck are you looking at me like that?” I said. Yelled. Whatever.
Mira stirred a little, and Zoe rubbed her back for a moment before she motioned me out into the hallway.
Before coming over, she’d tugged on some black joggers, but her feet were still bare. Her toenails were painted a muted pink. It was so much easier to stare at her feet than to meet her gaze, because I did not like what I saw there.
And because it felt like my insides were about to combust.
“Liam, kids get fevers. She’ll be fine, I promise.”
I lifted my head, pinning her with a glare. “You can’t promise that. I told you how high it was.”
She smiled again, seeming secretive and sweet and so fucking irritating. I wanted to punch a wall.
“And she probably doesn’t feel great, but letting her sleep is the best thing we can do. If she wakes up, we can make sure she drinks water, and we’ll take her temp again, but one-oh-two isn’t anything we need to worry about. A couple more degrees—”
“A couple more degrees? You have lost the plot, Valentine.” She was mad. Absolutely nutters. And here I had thought she was the responsible one.
But she was completely unfazed. “A couple more degrees, and we want to make sure medicine brings that fever down, but we don’t need to bring her in. Her body is doing its job.”
My jaw was clenched tight while I measured the truth of what she was telling me. When I spoke again, my voice sounded like it had been scraped bare by rusty razor blades. “How are you so sure?”
“I worked at a hospital for over a decade, Liam.”
“In accounting ,” I said. “It’s not like you were interviewing the bloody doctors.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. My best friend had a kid, and I was always over here, and I remember her talking about this any time Mira got sick. Is that better?”
I conceded that with a grunt.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I grunted again. “Fine. But I’m taking her temp every hour.”
Why were her eyes gleaming like that? And why was she studying my face that way?
“You’re worried about her,” she added gently.
Denial swiftly pushed to the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t force the words out.
“It’s kinda sweet,” she continued.
“It’s not fucking sweet, Valentine. I’ve just never ... I’m never around sick kids, and I hate feeling out of control, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
It was dark in the hallway, and we were standing close.
She smelled good. Like mint and chocolate.
Then she set her hand on my arm, as if comforting me. “She’ll be okay, I promise.”
Was my skin sizzling where she’d touched it? Did it feel to her like I was burning up from the inside? Because I fucking was.
I took a step back, and her expression immediately shifted.
There was no other choice to be made, though. I was too wildly out of control of the snarling beast locked tight behind the walls. He was already rattling his cage and pressing at the seams because the little girl I didn’t want was sick and there was fuck all I could do about it.
No. Touching Zoe right now was the worst possible thing I could do.
Without another word, I walked into Chris and Amie’s room and pulled one of the decorative pillows from the mound on their bed, then grabbed the blanket folded over the large chair in the corner. Zoe was back in Mira’s room when I returned. With one hand, she gently stroked the little girl’s cheek. In her other was the thermometer.
“Any change?” I asked.
“No. Same.”
Same was good.
I tossed the pillow and blanket onto the floor next to Mira’s crib, studiously avoiding Zoe’s shocked facial expression.
“What are you ...?” Her voice trailed off.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I said. “Someone’s gotta be able to hear her if she needs something. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”
Zoe covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the makeshift bed.
I felt naked. Twitchy. Like I was under a spotlight, exposing every fucking vulnerability I had in one fell swoop.
Naturally, that made me take a swipe at her, because I was a bloody idiot.
“Don’t beg to join me, Valentine. I’m not in the mood for cuddling.”
Except she didn’t roll her eyes. Didn’t get annoyed or snipe back. She just kept those eyes locked dead center on mine.
“You trying to pry into my brain? I can guarantee you won’t like what you find there.”
Why wasn’t she rising to the bait? It would be so much easier if she did. If she fought back, if she let those sparks fly between us like she always did, I could keep a level head.
Nothing about me was feeling level.
And maybe, just maybe, I could pull her into that unsteadiness with me. Because I was a selfish bastard. The thought was enough to make me pull my eyes away from hers. To cool the rising swell inside me.
Zoe exhaled slowly, like she knew what internal battle I was fighting. How could she, though? “How was she before you realized she had a fever?”
“Quiet,” I answered. “That should’ve been my first clue that she felt poorly. She admitted she was tired.”
Zoe’s lips curled into an amused smile.
“She kept saying she wanted to stay here,” I told her.
The smile fell, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was afraid of that.”
We were tiptoeing around something big. And right now we didn’t have time to tiptoe around anything. “No bullshit,” I said.
Zoe dropped her hands and stared at me. “No bullshit.”
“Maybe she should be able to stay here.” The words came out quietly, a little raw around the edges. “Maybe that’s best for her. It was her home.”
Zoe opened her mouth but didn’t speak at first. Behind her eyes, thoughts raced; I could practically see them. She’d be assembling binders in that brain of hers, figuring out the millions of things that went into what I’d just said.
“I’m assuming you don’t intend to become the primary caregiver,” she said carefully.
“Fuck no.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh. “Didn’t think so.”
Why couldn’t I say the words? They were just a few letters strung together.
You could stay here too.
That’s all. That’s all I’d have to say.
But they stayed lodged somewhere deep inside my gut. Out of self-preservation, most likely. I was losing every battle when it came to these two girls. The little one and the very grown one.
And I knew that if I were faced with Zoe and her eyes every fucking day, it was only a matter of time before I’d never get over her.
Not for the rest of my life.
Hell, I was halfway there the day we met, and each time I’d shared a room with her—had to watch her with that idiot who never deserved her—it got worse.
“I could stay,” she said quietly.
My eyes snapped to hers and held.
There would’ve been no shock on my end if an actual bolt of electricity had arced through the air between us. I half expected to see one. Bright and white and powerfully hot.
“If you’re open to some company,” she continued. “I’d still spend some time at my place during the day. I know we’d have a lot to figure out, and we have to try and be nice to each other.”
“And when you say that, what you mean is ...” My voice trailed off. I bloody well knew what she meant.
“I mean that you have to be nicer to me .” She swallowed, looking so uncharacteristically nervous that it was hard to keep hold of her gaze like that. “I know you don’t like me, Liam. You’ve always made that clear. But I won’t have Mira grow up watching us act the way we used to. I’ll mind what I say when you piss me off, but you have to promise the same thing.”
Right.
That was why I’d done it. Why I’d always snapped and snarled when she came too close. Zoe believed exactly what I’d always wanted her to believe.
She didn’t know what she was asking.
The slight pause before I answered had her cheeks flushing the slightest bit of pink.
“I can be nice.” I said it like someone had yanked the words out with a hook, and her eyes sparked with the tiniest hint of amusement. Glad she found this so fucking funny.
“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. Are you really gonna take her temp every hour?” Zoe asked.
I nodded. “I won’t sleep much anyway.”
She nodded. “Wake me up if it crosses one-oh-three, okay? We’ll give her some medicine.”
There. A plan.
I could handle it as long as we had a plan.
Zoe gave Mira one last look, and then her eyes landed on mine. “It’s okay to be worried about her. At least I know you have a heart now.”
With that parting shot, she quietly left the room, her sweet scent trailing behind her. I took a greedy inhale and wondered what she’d been eating before she came over. If I’d taste it on her tongue.
Be nicer, she’d demanded. That’s probably not what she had in mind when she said it. But then again, I’d allowed myself, over the years, fleeting moments in which I imagined kissing Zoe. Imagined punching her husband for the fact that he got to do so. When the bloody ring came off her finger, I imagined her naked, her thighs tight around my head. Imagined the sounds she’d make when they were. Imagined waking up buried under all that hair, with her fit fucking body draped over mine.
Niceness didn’t factor into any single one of these reveries.
And now she’d be under the same roof. Day after day after day.
“Bloody hell, what did I just agree to?” I whispered.
With a sigh, I stretched out on the floor, punching the pillow under my head and settling in for a sleepless night.