Chapter 11
Three days passed, and Pixie was surprised at how seamlessly the new arrangement worked. Brogan truly seemed no worse off for sleeping on the floor. In fact, he seemed comfortable there.
Not that she snuck into the room to peek at him or anything, but the first morning she’d awakened before him, and when she’d glanced—strictly to check that he and Shayna were doing all right—she’d found him still tucked into his sleeping bag, those impressive arms folded behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.
His biceps were … Well, she had a difficult time looking away.
Apparently, the man slept shirtless, even though the nights were cool.
Did he have on any kind of pants? Or shorts?
Or did he sleep in his underwear?
Her mouth had gone a little dry while her blood seemed to heat and hurry through her veins.
Soft music played from a small device to help drown out unfamiliar noises.
The first rays of dawn filtered through the many windows.
Despite the lingering shadows, Pixie saw part of his trident tattoo, as well as several scars, including the top edge of the long slash that cut over his ribs.
Seeing all those injuries reminded her that Brogan had been badly hurt—not just emotionally, but physically, too.
However she could, she wanted to help him heal.
Before she could tiptoe away, he’d said in a soft but gravelly voice, “Good morning, Pixie.”
That sleep-rough tone sank into her, and then he lifted himself to one forearm, staring at her, and for some insane reason she felt naked.
“Morning,” she croaked back. For the longest time, they just looked at each other, until mounting tension threatened to snap.
What would happen then, she didn’t know. “I can put on coffee.”
“Thanks.”
She’d hurried out and hadn’t peeked in on him again, but that exchange started a morning routine that she already cherished.
Whoever woke first would get the coffee started.
Once the kids woke up, there was little time for quiet conversation, but before they did—the morning was theirs.
Drowsy, intimate chats at the kitchen table were the perfect way to get a day off to a good start.
Neither of them was a caffeine junkie, so a cup each was all they needed, and often all they had time for.
Another new routine she loved was Andy’s excitement when he woke up and remembered their guests.
He’d sleepily open his eyes, cuddle with her a moment, let her change his diaper, then suddenly recall that Brogan and Shayna were in the house, and he’d race out of the room.
At first, she had to remind him to be quiet, in case Shayna was still sleeping.
He was quick to learn, maybe because he adored the baby so much.
Now, on the fourth morning, he warned her, “Shh”; then he dramatically snuck into the kitchen—every movement exaggerated—to find Brogan grinning at him. As Andy did each morning, he ran into Brogan’s arms, where he was scooped up and hugged … much as a father might have hugged his own son.
Except that Andy didn’t have a father.
It put tears in her eyes. Every. Single. Time. The way Andy clung to the big man. The gentle expression on Brogan’s face as skinny arms squeezed his neck and a wet kiss was pressed to his jaw. She couldn’t imagine anything more moving.
Over Andy’s head, Brogan’s gaze met hers. His mouth lifted in a crooked smile that, to Pixie, held not just affection but more.
Wiggling loose, Andy said, “My baby,” and ran over to Shayna, who was propped up in her infant high chair.
“He never seems to tire of her,” Brogan noted.
Very true. When the baby cried, Andy crumpled, too. If she slept, he’d lie down to watch her, and often doze off.
In no time at all, he’d become Brogan’s helper, running to get a diaper for Shayna, anxious to help hold her bottle. When he sat on the couch next to Brogan and they let him “hold” Shayna, his big blue eyes positively glowed.
Oh-so-gently, he would kiss Shayna’s head, and occasionally whisper, “My baby,” in a way that wrenched her heart.
Those touching moments were the highlights. There had also been a lot of confusion.
Showers were difficult, with Brogan jogging up to the lake house and insisting on taking Shayna with him. At least those first two days.
On the third day, she convinced him that she was more than capable of handling both kids for an hour. Reluctantly, Brogan had agreed and then returned in thirty minutes.
The next day, he’d insisted on returning the favor by watching both kids while she showered and dressed.
“This is working out, isn’t it?”
Brogan flashed her a grin while making waffles. “It’s easier than I expected.”
Unspoken was the fact that life would be better still if they knew where Ruth was.
Brogan had tried calling Erin right away, but her office explained that she was on the second week of a two-week vacation. The good news was, she’d be back in the office at the end of this week, and they’d let her know right away that he needed to speak with her.
Better news was that no one had seen her since the awful scene she’d caused in the driveway. Pixie hoped that she’d managed to drive out of town without Herman seeing her. Brogan worried that she was still hanging around, ready to cause trouble.
“I’m off today,” she offered casually. “If there’s anything you need to do, we could—”
“I’d like to see Benny.” With waffles and bacon served, he joined her at the table. “I had promised to visit him, but then with Ruth showing up …”
“I understand.”
“Ellen sent me a message this morning. Said Benny is still talking about me.” He stared down at his plate as if confounded.
“You don’t want to go?”
“Actually … I do.” His tone and expression both showed his surprise. He shook his head. “I haven’t interacted much with kids his age, but Ellen said he’s asked a few times. She said she explained to him that I’m on vacation and probably busy—only I’m not. Busy, I mean.”
Pixie hid her smile. “Not too busy to see a grateful mother and her son? Of course you aren’t. I’m glad you’re going.”
This time, his gaze settled on her. “She said you’re welcome to come along.”
Surprised, Pixie barely caught Andy’s hand before he got syrup in his hair. “I’m invited, too? I mean, I’d love to see her again, but I don’t want to intrude. I thought I’d watch the kids.”
“They’d probably like an outing, don’t you think? I saw the grocery list you have going, so afterward we could stop at the store, and then maybe take a walk on the beach.”
There was absolutely no reason to get so flustered, but Pixie felt her cheeks heating and knew she wore a blush. “Okay, that sounds great. I don’t need to buy any perishables, so walking at the beach will work. Thanks.”
It might have been her imagination, but there was a subtle easing of Brogan’s shoulders.
The rest of the morning went smoothly enough, and shortly before lunchtime, they were ready to leave.
Anywhere you went with two kids, it took some packing. With both replenished diaper bags, two strollers in the cargo area, and a few toys between the car seats, they left for the drive.
“I’m not sure we’ll get to visit the beach,” Pixie said with a worried look at the sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain.” Through the gathering dark clouds, the sun was no more than a hazy, blurred glow. A strong breeze added a chill to the spring air.
“Another time then. I hope the storm holds off long enough for us to visit Benny, though. Ellen said he’s looking forward to it.”
“It’s nice of you to see him.”
He hitched a shoulder. “I thought about giving Brian a call, to see if he knows that Ruth had been here.”
Sensing it was something he didn’t want to do, she asked, “When was the last time you spoke to him?”
He slowed as a rabbit hopped into the road, then came to a stop waiting for it to move. When it finally turned back to the clover, Brogan eased past, his gaze constantly scanning the woods. Finally, he said, “Remember I told you about how Connie came to see me and they blew up about it?”
“Yes.”
“That was the last time. Not counting the night I came for Shayna, but there wasn’t much talking then.”
Touching him was easier now, so she put her hand on his forearm. Not sure if he’d want to share, she asked, “What did he say to you?”
“That he had one kid, a daughter, and as far as he was concerned, I didn’t exist.”
Such deliberate cruelty astounded her. “Don’t call him,” she said, unable to keep the anger out of her words.
“Ruth might already be back with him.” His hands flexed on the wheel. “Or she might have been telling the truth.”
Doubtful. Pixie didn’t think people like Ruthie and Brian knew the truth. “About what?”
“Brian could be seriously sick, even dying. It’s more likely a lie, but if he is ailing, she might want to be with him.”
And if Ruthie wasn’t here, there’d be no reason for Brogan to stay with her. “Would you mind if I make a suggestion?”
“I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
Flattered, Pixie wondered if he’d change his mind once he heard her idea. “Marlow was a higher-up in an influential business. She handled a lot of negotiations, and she still has clout.”
“I don’t like where this is heading.” He shot her a look, but quickly returned his attention to the road. “I can handle this situation myself. It’s not like talking to Brian will be a big deal. I’ll just let him know that Ruth crossed a line, and if it happens again, the police will come calling.”
“Let’s discuss it with Marlow first, okay? I’m sure she’ll have some ideas on how best to handle it. In fact, I could invite them down for dinner tonight.”
“It’s your house—you can invite anyone you want.”
Softly, she said, “I’d like you to be there, too.”
After another lengthy silence, Brogan said, “I’m not good at this.”
“This?”
“Sharing. I mean, with you it’s easy. Has been from the start.”
He couldn’t know how that pleased her.
“But Cort and Marlow? I don’t like airing my problems. I prefer to deal with stuff on my own.”