Chapter 5 #3
“You and I have food to share, but we’re in two different houses.” She faltered only a moment before asking, “Do you think you’d want to come in? We could have dinner and give the kids a little time to unwind before we start our separate bedtime routines.”
Damn, he wanted that a lot. Sitting down in her house, spending a quiet, private evening with her. It sounded great to him.
He was about to answer her when her phone buzzed.
She had been watching him expectantly, but he said, “Get that if you want.”
Blowing out a short breath, she said, “Thanks,” and took her purse from the floor to retrieve her phone.
Seeing her disappointment bothered him, so before she answered, he said, “Pixie?”
“Yes?”
“I’d love to come in. Thank you.”
There was a lot of confusion once they got to the house. Andy woke up cranky; Brogan was supposed to call back the police, who had a few questions about the boating incident; Shayna was hungry; and their food was now cold.
Still, Pixie was unreasonably excited. Nervous too.
Of course, she understood that Brogan’s visit was only friendly. Not at all romantic. Undoubtedly, he wasn’t even interested in friendship if it came with any type of restriction. She got it. Before Brogan, she’d felt the same.
Andy’s father had burned her so badly, disrupting her life in ways she never could have anticipated, that the idea of getting close to a man, any man, turned her stomach. Trust another guy? No, never.
Except … she trusted Cort, mainly because he was like a big brother, showing only the concern of a natural-born protector. It hadn’t taken Pixie any time at all to see that Cort loved Marlow, and vice versa. They were perfect for each other.
Brogan, however, was not in the same category.
For one thing, he was completely unattached. For another, she’d never met a man so physically imposing, or so appealing. What she felt for him was in no way sisterly.
She hadn’t even felt this way about Dylan.
With Andy’s dad, she’d mostly been delighted to be noticed, flattered to be included, and thrilled by the numerous gifts he’d given her.
She hadn’t looked at Dylan and gotten tongue-tied or felt warmth swirling in her stomach.
She hadn’t fantasized over him when she should have been sleeping.
The sex had been great. Eye-opening even. But already she anticipated dinner with Brogan far more than she’d ever wanted sex with Dylan.
Such a startling realization.
As they went through the house, she flipped on lights, aware of Brogan’s curious gaze taking in everything.
The foyer led straight into the kitchen, with a dining room on the left and the living room just beyond that.
Along the entire left side of the house was a long, narrow porch that had been enclosed and turned into a summer room. It was her favorite spot in the house.
He spotted the playpen in the living room and asked, “Okay if I put Shayna in there for a minute?”
“Sure.” She had her hands full with Andy as he woke up. He clung to her, grumpy and no doubt hungry. She kissed her son, then said, “Our food is still in the car.”
“I’ll get it. I was going to grab the stroller, too. If you don’t mind, I can use it like a high chair, assuming you only have the one.” He nodded to Andy’s chair in the kitchen.
“Good idea. I’ll keep an eye on Shayna while I change Andy’s diaper.” She paused when she caught his smile. “What?”
“Sorry, nothing. It’s just … fun.” He gestured around the house, at Shayna and Andy fussing, and their diaper bags on the floor. “Sorting this out with you, I mean.”
Now that he mentioned it, she agreed. Hoping it wouldn’t be too much, she said, “Better than doing it alone.”
He hesitated, then gave a nod. “Definitely better.”
The second he turned to leave, Andy started crying. “Shh, Andy. None of that now. Brogan is coming back.”
“Fend,” he said in a pitiful little voice, and Pixie couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes, sweetie, he’s our friend and he’ll be right back.
First, you need a clean diaper.” His shorts were wet through, so she put his changing pad on the floor next to the playpen and knelt down with him. “You’re soaked, little man.”
His face lit up at seeing Shayna. “Baby!”
“See? Brogan wouldn’t leave her behind.” She quickly stripped off his shorts and put on a dry diaper, all the while knowing that Andy was already far too attached to a man who’d only be around for a temporary time. “We’re going to share dinner—just this once. Are you hungry?”
“Baby.”
“The baby will eat with us.” She was sorting through the diaper bag, looking for clean socks, when Brogan reentered. Andy was off like a shot, wearing only his little T-shirt and snowy diaper, his bare feet slapping the hardwood floor as he ran.
Laughing, Brogan quickly set the food on an entry table and caught Andy up in his free arm. The folded stroller was held in his other hand. Immediately, his gaze went to Shayna. The baby was on her tummy, head and shoulders up so she could look around with wide-eyed interest.
“I’ve got her,” Pixie said as she lifted Shayna out of the playpen. “Her diaper is still dry.”
Brogan was careful not to ding the walls as he carried the stroller into the kitchen.
Pixie carried Shayna and the bag of food. “Do you want to eat first or make your call?”
Grumbling, Brogan said, “I should return the call, I guess. Officer Jansen Flynn said it wasn’t urgent, but he had a few questions.” Clearly, making the call wasn’t his preference.
“Let’s get the kids in their seats and then I’ll reheat our food while you talk to him.”
“More teamwork. I like it.” He lowered Andy to the floor again, but caught him when he would have taken off. “Hang on there, speed racer.”
Somehow he managed to open the stroller and restrain Andy at the same time. Pixie figured it was his long reach and strength that made it easier for him. As soon as he finished, they switched kids. She got Andy into his high chair and Brogan got Shayna into the stroller.
The kitchen had once felt large, but now, with Brogan here, the space felt wonderfully crowded.
Obviously, she was worse off than her son. When Brogan’s lease ended and he went away, she’d probably miss him even more than Andy would.
As she turned, they collided. Brogan caught her upper arms and laughed. “Hey, sorry. You okay?”
Um … no. Absurd for a twenty-one-year-old mother to blush clean down to her toes, but she did. She could feel the warmth in her skin and knew her face had turned red. “Sorry.” She tried a laugh, too, but it sounded a little strangled. “Go make your call. I’ll have the food ready in no time.”
Slowly, his hands fell away from her. “I’ll just step into the other room. If you need help, give a yell.”
“I won’t,” she promised him.
He already had his phone to his ear as he walked away. With the kitchen open to the living room, Pixie saw him pace toward the porch to look out. His deep voice was pitched low, and he kept his broad shoulders and back to her, giving her a chance to look him over without his knowing.
He really was large, towering over most people, with the physique to match. He kept his dark blond hair military short. It made her fingers twitch with the need to stroke the back of his head, to feel that rough velvety texture.
As if he felt her stare, he turned, which had Pixie scrambling to do something—anything—else. Her face quickly got hot again.
Andy helped her by saying, “Cookie.”
“Not just yet, sweetie. Very soon.” She gave him water in his cup instead, then watched as he tried to pour some on Shayna.
“No, you don’t,” she said in a rush, scooting his chair a little farther from the infant.
Then she worried that he might throw the cup anyway, something he’d done before, so she let him take a drink or two and then reclaimed it.
“Cup!”
“In a second.” She had no idea what Robin had sent them to eat, so she quickly emptied the bag, hoping it wasn’t steak, which would be tough when reheated.
She inhaled the aroma of pork loin wrapped in smoked bacon.
The glazed apples were packed separately, as were the asparagus and onion straws. “Bless you, Robin.”
She wrapped the pork to reheat it in the air fryer, with the onion straws left unwrapped to keep them crisp.
She’d microwave the asparagus. After she had the food ready to heat, she peeked into the living room.
Brogan was still talking, but looked up when he saw her.
She lifted the choice of bottled water or cola, and then whispered, “Or tea?”
Covering the phone, he said, “Tea, thanks,” before getting back to his call.
Pixie held up two fingers as a question.
He returned four.
Nodding, she set the table and started heating the food.
In the diaper bag, she found a bottle of water for Shayna, with a travel dispenser of formula.
She set both on the counter and then prepared finger food for Andy, including soft chunks of cheese, a couple of his favorite crackers, steamed carrots and broccoli, and just a bit of diced chicken.
She put it all in his divided bowl just as the microwave dinged.
The air fryer finished next. She’d just finished putting the apples on her pork when Brogan reentered.
“Man, that smells good.”
“Mam,” Andy said, using the same enthusiasm Brogan had.
“He calls me Mam,” Pixie said, “and he’s ready to eat, too.” She put bibs on both of the kids. “I have Shayna’s stuff there on the counter, but I wasn’t sure of your process with her bottles.”
“Thanks.” Brogan set her plate and drink on the table for her. “Why don’t you sit. I’ll finish my plate and put Shayna’s bottle together.”
He did so quickly and efficiently, proving he was now a pro.
“The apples are great,” she said, in case he didn’t want to include them. Cort usually didn’t, but she and Marlow loved the combination of tastes.
Brogan took her suggestion while she fastened the suction cups of Andy’s bowl to the tray on his high chair.