Chapter 4
Shayna was fussier that night than usual, but he wasn’t sure why.
Brogan worried that she’d gotten too much sun, but her skin was as pale and soft as ever.
She didn’t feel feverish. Twice he checked that her diaper was comfortable, and he switched her clothes in case they were somehow bothering her.
She would settle for a moment, almost doze off, then fuss again.
While carrying her around the interior of the small house, he did quick research on his phone, trying to figure out the cause. When that didn’t yield any results, he went outside to circle the property, hoping a change of scenery would soothe her.
It definitely helped to settle his own turbulent thoughts.
The chorus of chirping crickets, the soft sound of the water lapping the shoreline, and a truly stunning sunset gave him a sense of peace.
He looked down at Shayna, pleased to see that her expression was now relaxed and sleepy.
He lightly kissed her forehead. “I can’t bear it when you’re unhappy, Sugar.
” Keeping his tone soft, Brogan continued to talk to her while he walked.
“Good news is, you’re not colicky or you’d be more upset.
And since you’re not chewing your little fist, I know you’re not hungry again.
I couldn’t feel anything on your gums, so I don’t think you’re cutting a new tooth yet. ”
She blinked sleepily before giving in to a huge yawn.
“You’re such a sweet little Sugar, aren’t you?
” At the back of the house, he paused by the door and just gently rocked her while he looked out over the water.
“My guess is, you’re more aware of your surroundings now, so we’re going to try a little soft music while you sleep tonight.
I have an app on my phone. What do you think of that? ”
Gripping one of his fingers, she snuggled closer to his chest and closed her eyes.
Unfamiliar emotions left him feeling ungrounded. Voice low and gruff, he whispered, “Damn, Sugar, I love you so much. How did that happen so quickly? It’s like you took my heart right out of my chest, and now you hold it in your tiny little fist.”
This slight little girl owned him. I wasn’t there for you, Connie. I have to live with that, but I swear to you, I’ll do right by Shayna. The words didn’t leave his tight throat, not with the baby now sleeping.
Brogan couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.
He’d probably been no more than eight or nine when he’d learned that showing too much emotion drew unwanted attention of the negative kind.
His mother had mostly lived in a fog of resentment against his father, life, and sometimes Brogan, too.
When she focused on him, his life was hell.
She rarely hit him, but her words could cut deep—especially because he’d known they were true.
He had been unwanted—by Brian, by her, and by the men she’d paraded in and out of their lives.
He decided right then that as Shayna grew up, whenever she felt the need to cry, he’d let her do so; there was nothing wrong with her expressing emotion. The biggest difference was that he’d try to help however he could. He’d offer comfort, and he’d be there for her.
Never would he shame her, not for any reason.
To distract himself from the past he’d long since buried, Brogan scrolled on his phone.
He was still worried that visiting with Pixie and Andy had been a mistake.
It wasn’t what Shayna was used to. According to online suggestions, she could have been overstimulated by the visit and therefore needed more time to unwind.
Not that he minded walking with her. Hell, he loved it, but he enjoyed it more when she was smiling at him instead of being disgruntled.
From the moment he’d known of her existence, he’d wanted to hold her, protect her. He’d have willingly faced another deadly ambush to give her whatever she needed.
He’d never really had anyone to take care of before.
No, that wasn’t true. He should have taken care of Connie, should have helped her when she needed it.
But he hadn’t known because he’d made assumptions.
He’d accepted rejection, used pride as a shield, and had shut out the one person who’d really wanted to know him.
He’d failed Connie in the worst possible way, but he wouldn’t fail her daughter.
And that was why he needed to maintain his growing friendship with Pixie.
He immediately thought of Andy and knew he was making the right decision.
Such a happy, curious little guy. Pixie was obviously an amazing mom, and that made him like her.
The problem was that he was attracted to her, too.
He hadn’t expected that. How could he want her when his entire existence was focused on Shayna?
He couldn’t understand it, but he knew it was true.
Pixie was so small, she looked younger than she probably was; she could easily pass for seventeen. She even had the slim, willowy body to match. That should have been enough to turn his thoughts in a new direction, because he would never date anyone that young.
But the biggest lure was her kind heart. Everything about Pixie—even her name—screamed innocence. She was the light to his darkness, the calm to his storms.
She smiled, and he smiled, too. She held Andy, and in his heart, he felt the love she had for her son. She teased and his mood lifted.
That hadn’t happened for years.
Those big blue eyes of hers held compassion and understanding. Her voice was gentle, her body tempting. And that long blond hair? He had the urge to stroke his fingers through the heavy locks.
He was a decade older than she, with a century of cynicism tangled up inside him. He had no business thinking about anything except his reasons for being here.
It’d be easier if Pixie wasn’t so perfect, if she didn’t seem so … pure.
An absurd thought in today’s world, but with all the ugliness he’d seen in his lifetime, she was like a breath of fresh air after inhaling nothing but smog.
Looking down at Shayna again, he realized she was sound asleep, and here he was, still rocking her.
He stilled, waited to see if she’d awaken, and was pleased when she didn’t.
He stepped to the side of the porch lights to better see the sunset pouring orange and vibrant pink ribbons over the ever-moving surface of the water.
Stars began to dot the sky and fireflies soon followed.
On impulse, he lifted his phone and took a photo, then texted it to Pixie. He’d no sooner sent it than he worried about the time. What if she’d already gone to sleep?
Mere seconds passed before she sent back a smiley face with hearts in the eyes. He grinned, and after two seconds more, she clarified: I love sunsets.
As if he’d think the hearts were for him? His grin widened. He started to put his phone away, then changed his mind. Using only his thumb, he typed in: I do too—now. He hesitated, then sent it to her.
He’d seen plenty of sunsets over his lifetime, even some in Africa that were stunning. Rainbow hues that settled softly along the horizon.
None had been as nice as this, because here, there was true peace.
“Time to get you to bed, Sugar.” He headed back in, making sure to relock the door securely and turning on the soothing musical sounds on his phone.
Shayna didn’t stir when he lowered her into her basket and put a light blanket over her. He’d need an actual crib soon, and maybe a sound machine. Tonight he’d start a list.
And somehow, he’d keep his growing friendship with Pixie free of sexual thoughts, no matter how difficult it might be. He could do it.
Hadn’t he blocked thoughts of the future when he was younger and didn’t know where he’d end up?
He’d concentrated on surviving the day. When on a mission, he didn’t allow himself to think of a cold cola, a juicy hamburger, or a soft bed.
Those thoughts were a distraction and made the time spent in a dangerous situation even worse.
If he could resist all that, surely he could resist the lure of Pixie’s gentle touch.
Eventually, he’d tell her why he was really here, what she and her son meant to him and why. Pixie would understand because she’d already proven to have a huge but sensitive heart. The timing was critical, though.
Everyone else could just stay out of his business. He’d keep to himself, do his best to keep a low profile so he didn’t draw attention from the locals, and when it was necessary to engage with them, he’d be merely polite. No smiling. No chitchat.
And no fantasizing about what it would be like to have a future with Pixie Nolan.
He knew how to survive without. He’d been doing it all his life.
The trip to show Brogan around town turned into a shopping expedition of monumental proportions.
Pixie felt like a nag every time she explained that he didn’t need something, but the man seriously wanted to overdo it.
When he wanted to purchase an elaborately decorative crib, she’d reminded him that the lake house didn’t have a lot of extra room and showed him how to accomplish the same look with pretty blankets and a mobile.
When he took too long deciding on the blankets and a few more outfits for Shayna, she laughingly grabbed some and tossed them in his cart. He liked her choices.
He’d been involved in choosing toys—for both Andy and Shayna—when Shayna started to fuss. Without thinking about it, Pixie lifted the little girl into her arms and soothed her. Andy, who rode in the back of the cart, loved it and wanted her to stand close enough that he could snuggle the baby, too.
Shayna gave a wail, and Andy got ready to cry with her.
He said, “Baby cryin’!” in a panicked yell, clearly wanting Pixie to fix the situation.
“Yes, she is,” Pixie soothed, followed by, “Shh, she might be sleepy.”
“Shh!” Andy told her; then he turned to Brogan and loudly repeated, “Shh. Baby sleepy.”