Chapter 6 #2
When Pixie looked at his mouth, he worried that she might be the one to make the move.
He’d totally cave if she did, so he turned away.
“If it wasn’t for Shayna …” He started to say that he’d still be in the military, but that wasn’t true.
His injuries had been enough to necessitate a medical discharge.
Sure, there were wounds people could see, but there were also hidden wounds.
A few on his hip that would keep him from peak performance.
One on his right foot. He was finally able to jog again, but he wouldn’t be able to handle any major jumps.
Thinking of his physical limitations always soured his mood. For a man who’d pushed himself to dominate whenever possible, it was a bitter reality.
“Brogan?”
Regret was the damnedest thing, sneaking up on him when he least expected it.
At least it had worked to tamp down his need for Pixie.
“I started to say I left the military for Shayna, but that’d be a lie.
You saw my wounds. I’m fine now,” he added, in case she thought to fuss.
“But I’m not up to snuff for what the military needs. ”
She touched his arm. “You’re still more than most men could ever be.”
He flattened his automatic grin. “Not how I’d look at it, but thanks.
The point is, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d still been active duty when I found out about Connie and the baby.
I hope I’d have done the right thing.” Somehow, regardless of how complicated it might have been. “I was still in the hospital, though.”
Pixie scooted closer. “Because the injuries were so severe?”
And because he’d given up—but that was a shame he’d keep to himself. “I was going through rehabilitation. Finding out about Shayna really kicked me into gear. It was Connie’s friend who found me.”
“They were close?”
“Erin Benning is a powerhouse. A family law attorney, but after meeting her, I think she’d outtalk and outmaneuver anyone in any setting.
The military could have used her to develop strategy.
” He shared a quick grin. “Connie was a paralegal, but also worked as her personal assistant for added income. They were good friends. Thankfully, Erin had all of Connie’s legal papers, as well as instructions and other details that Connie wanted shared.
” Feeling the tension seep in, Brogan ran a hand over the back of his neck.
“I wasn’t easy to find, but Erin managed because it was important.
” Unfortunately, it had taken her a little too long. Brogan’s fault, not hers.
“So you’ve met her?”
“Soon as I found out about Connie, I called Erin. She flew out to see me two days later and brought all of Erin’s paperwork. A will, life insurance policy, and guardianship papers.” The tension tightened, squeezing his neck, twisting until he felt as if he couldn’t sit still.
Then Pixie touched him. Her soft voice brushed over him.
Brogan looked at her, unsure of what she’d said.
“It’s still difficult,” she repeated. “I understand.”
God, he hoped she’d continue to understand.
Bracing himself with a deep breath, he said, “Everything Connie owned became mine, but at the time, that didn’t matter much to me.
Erin shared a photo of Shayna, and that little girl just grabbed my heart.
” He realized then that Pixie’s small, cool hand was still on his upper arm.
He didn’t just feel it there, though. He felt it everywhere, both calming his angst and igniting heat within him.
“Sorry.” Brogan got to his feet and paced away to a safer distance. “I can’t seem to sit still when I talk about this stuff.”
Pixie shifted to face forward, hugging that throw pillow a little tighter. “I understand.”
He rounded on her. “You keep saying that.” Voice a low rasp, he explained, “You don’t know, though.” Sometimes, most times, the truth tortured him. “Connie died alone because I was a bastard, not just in reality, but in personality, too.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Brogan turned away. “She had to do everything alone. Shayna’s father wasn’t there for her, and neither was I. That’s how she got killed.”
Several beats of silence passed before Pixie whispered, “Killed?”
Another reality he hated to face. “She was a single mother, like you. Her elderly neighbor watched Shayna for her when she worked at the office, though she did a lot of work at home, too. She was heading back from the office on a Friday evening when there was a fender bender that turned to road rage.”
“I don’t understand. If it was road rage, then how …?”
“Shouting first, then a fight, and that turned into shooting. A witness said Connie was trying to get around the stopped cars when a shot went wide. It came in through her passenger window.” Swallowing heavily, Brogan rasped, “She died on the scene.”
After a few beats of silence, Pixie let out a low breath. “How awful.”
“The babysitter had the number of the office for emergencies. She called, and everything got pieced together.” That had led to his father picking up the baby. “I was named as the guardian, but Shayna went through hell because I wasn’t accessible. I didn’t get to her right away.”
“You didn’t even know your sister had a baby.”
That didn’t make it easier. Just the opposite.
“She would have told me if I’d shown the least interest.” He strode to the end of the room, then started back, glancing down at Shayna as he passed.
Her cheeks puffed out as she pursed her lips, maybe dreaming of her bottle, and his heart turned over.
She had her arms out at her sides, her tiny hands open in a trusting pose of slumber.
“Erin said Connie thought about telling me, but she was in the middle of making her will, assigning a legal guardian for Shayna, and she worried that if I knew, I’d deny her. ”
“You wouldn’t have.”
Her faith was killing him. “I don’t know that. Seeing Shayna now, you’re right. I would never have rejected her. But some unknown baby?” He scrubbed both hands over his face.
Without making a sound, Pixie moved to stand before him. Though she couldn’t wrap her fingers all the way around his wrists, she still caught them and pulled down his hands. “You wouldn’t have,” she insisted.
He wanted to be the man she saw. “Erin had Connie’s hefty life insurance policy, and she also had long letters explaining what Connie wanted.”
“For Shayna’s future?”
He nodded. “I assumed it would only be about education and stuff like that. Instead, Connie wanted her protected from our father and her mother. She wanted Shayna insulated from that ugliness.” His throat tightened and he had to look away. “She wanted her to be loved.”
“Brogan.” Before he could stop her, Pixie had her arms around his waist. When he stiffened, she held him tighter, using all her meager strength.
He didn’t know what to do. Arms out at his sides, body rigid, he tried to sort out the bombardment of feelings. This was not an embrace of sexual intent. She didn’t stroke him, didn’t rub against him. She simply held him.
Comfort. It was comfort and it wrecked him.
Breathing faster, he allowed his arms to close carefully around her. She was such a delicate little thing, so much smaller than he. He didn’t know what to do with this, with her.
It wasn’t until he returned her hug that she looked up at him with a smile. “I think Connie made an excellent choice.”
“She didn’t even know me. Not really.”
Putting her cheek back to his chest, Pixie gave a quiet laugh. “She disagreed. And I disagree.”
“Tell me why, Pixie.” He desperately wanted to believe her.
She finally released him, but took his hand and led him back to the couch, saying, “We don’t want to wake up Shayna.”
He knew his little Sugar. She wouldn’t wake up until she was good and ready, but he didn’t mind sitting now. All the turmoil he’d felt minutes ago had dissipated beneath confusion. And hope. Such desperate hope.
“Now,” Pixie said. She sat well away from him, both legs curled up on the couch and that lucky throw pillow once again held close to her chest. “When Connie visited you that first time, your immediate thought was protecting her.”
Doubt brought his brows together. “It was a dangerous area.”
“Right. Not to you, but for her—that’s what you told me, even though she was older. And so your first instinct was to get her to safety.”
That didn’t make him trustworthy. Or capable of raising an infant.
It made him a realist.
“Then you not only joined the military, but you became a SEAL. That proves a lot.”
“Like?”
“So many things! Special operations forces aren’t for average people. That service requires dedication and intelligence, not just strength.” Smug, she added, “I read up on it after you told me you were a SEAL.”
She was interested enough to do a little research on me? “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“And see, you’re humble, too.”
“No,” he corrected with a sound that should have been a laugh, but didn’t quite make the cut. “I’m not humble.”
“Your denying it just proves you are.”
“What kind of twisted logic is that?”
“It’s the logic of someone who is getting to know you. You’re an in-command, take-charge kind of guy—and before you ask, I know that after seeing how you handled things with Benny.”
“Connie wouldn’t have known that.”
“Of course she would. She saw how you reacted after her parents freaked out over you, just because she’d visited you. They were complete jerks. To spare her, you cut all ties.”
“How do you figure that?” His motivation had been to spare himself—right? He’d cut ties in a childish snit.
“Geez, Brogan, give me a little credit. And give some credit to your sister. I’m beyond certain that she looked you up.
She met you, knew you, found out what she could about your service, and then she made the very intelligent decision—as a mother who loved her daughter—to name you guardian of her baby if anything happened to her. ”