Chapter 12
Brogan hadn’t meant to spook Pixie with his observation, and it definitely wasn’t a complaint. Yet she’d gone so quiet—and pink—that he felt like an ass.
“So we’re clear here, I like when you touch me.” He heard her quick inhalation. “Were you holding your breath?”
“Maybe?” She released it in a long sigh. “You confuse me, and then I confuse myself.”
Welcome to the party. He’d come to Bramble with one goal in mind, finding family for Shayna. All his life, he’d been careful to limit the things he wanted. He always made sure something was attainable before he even considered going after it. Then he judged whether or not it was worth the effort.
Getting out of his mother’s house, finding independence, had been more than worth joining the military.
He hadn’t gone that route to find a family, but he’d found one just the same.
Not a mother and father—the military wasn’t about coddling anyone.
But brothers? Men he knew would have his back?
Yes, he’d gotten them, and in so many ways, they’d been the best part of him.
Until Shayna. That tiny girl had added dimensions to his life that he’d never thought possible. She made his heart capable of feeling things he hadn’t known existed.
And Pixie was doing the same now. All those same profound, stirring emotions, but with Pixie there were other elements. Hotter and deeper. He craved more.
He craved her special brand of magic.
He just plain craved her.
“Let’s deal with this, one thing at a time.” He glanced at her and saw the blush still on her face. It took all he possessed not to smile. Right now, Pixie wore the innocent wonder of a woman noticing a man for the very first time.
She shifted the tiniest bit. “Okay. One thing at a time.”
“Did Ellen describe the man to you?”
“Yes.” After sharing what she knew, she asked, “Does that sound like your father?”
“I haven’t seen Brian in so long, it’s hard to say. I remember him as a big, good-looking guy. He’d be in his mid-fifties though, and from Ellen’s description, I’m guessing the guy she saw is older.”
“I guess that’s better then?”
Did she think he wanted a reunion with a man who’d done nothing but despise his existence?
“It makes things less complicated. If Brian is somewhere else, eventually Ruth will return to him.” If they were both here, there’d be a possibility they’d settle somewhere nearby, and he definitely didn’t want to chance running into them.
When he pulled into the grocery store lot, Pixie sat forward and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to run in and get our stuff—if you don’t mind waiting here with the kids?”
Worried, she reached out and clasped his forearm. “I don’t mind, but are you sure that’s a good idea? The rain is really coming down now.”
When he leaned forward, her eyes widened until he half-smiled and reached into the back seat to retrieve a rain slicker. “I won’t melt, and I’ll be quick. Just promise me you’ll stay in the car with the doors locked until I get back.”
“I don’t plan to play in the rain.”
The indignation after her blush made not smiling impossible. God, he wanted to kiss her. To lean forward and touch his mouth to hers. A fleeting kiss that he knew would feel so good.
But he didn’t.
“Good to know.” Because he had to touch her, he brushed his thumb over her cheek—and watched her eyes flare again. Instead of retreating, he tucked back her hair and gave her a simple truth. “Just so you know, you make everything easier.”
Her lips parted, she hesitated, then managed a nod. “You do, too.”
Brogan knew better. He’d brought nothing but complications to her life. “You don’t ever have to sugarcoat things for me, Pixie.”
She surprised him by cupping a hand to his neck as if to restrain him. Brows pinching together with sincerity, she insisted, “I’m not.”
Brogan lifted a brow. Did she even realize how freely she touched him? Pixie liked to connect—emotionally, but physically, too. And yet she’d been alone since before Andy’s birth. Incredible.
Especially since she was warming up to him.
Mistaking his look for mocking disagreement, she said, “It’s true! I know there are some difficulties, but we’ll get through them, right?”
We’ll get through them … as in a couple?
“You have been a help, more than you realize. But it’s also been so much fun. For Andy and me.”
This time, it was her thumb stroking his throat, and the innocent touch found a direct path to all pertinent parts of his body, making every nerve sizzle alive.
“I never knew anything was missing from his life until I saw how much he …” The words tapered off.
“How much he what?”
Softly, with extra meaning, she whispered, “He loves spending time with you.”
If Pixie loved spending time with him, too, then Brogan would count himself lucky. In his thirty-one years, never before had he felt that way. Luck was not something that visited him very often.
“It’s the most fun I’ve ever had,” he shared. “But nothing was missing from Andy’s life. I know, because he has you for a mother.”
Another flush warmed her skin, this time—he thought—from pleasure. “If that was true, it was before he had you and Shayna. Now, I’m afraid, he’d know exactly what he was missing.”
Brogan touched his forehead to hers. “This is a mighty heavy conversation for the grocery store parking lot. So, how about we hit the pause button for now? I’d rather get in and out before the kids wake up.”
She looked out the windows at the rain-washed parking lot with only a few shoppers scrambling to get to their cars. “What if Ruthie is in there?”
“She’s not the boogeyman, honey. Ruth can’t be everywhere at once.”
“But she could be here.”
Being overprotected like a kid wasn’t a comfortable feeling.
“If she is, I’ll ignore her. Now sit tight until I get back.
I’ll have my phone on me if you need me.
” He shrugged the slicker on over his head, gave a quick glance at both sleeping babies, then got out and closed his door as quietly as possible.
Rain lashed his face as he jogged into the store.
There was no avoiding the puddles that had formed everywhere.
And yet, he was smiling.
The magic of Pixie Nolan was real. For her, he’d make things right, whether that meant going or—hopefully, with a few prayers and some luck—getting to stay.
Ruth was not around to cause any problems. On a day like this, he imagined she liked to stay inside. She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d brave nasty weather.
He ran into others he’d met, and they all greeted him with smiles and small talk. It wasn’t what Brogan was used to, and he hoped he balanced his desire to hurry with enough polite exchanges to keep anyone from considering him rude.
It wouldn’t matter so much, except that he now felt that anything he said or did reflected on Pixie, too. He didn’t want anyone to think she’d keep company with a rude ass.
In record time, he found the different items they each needed: more diapers and formula for him, some food items, baby food and fresh fruit for Pixie, as well as some junk food.
He didn’t begrudge her that. How could he when he’d indulged in a few cookies with her each morning over coffee?
That reminded him, he needed to take a turn making dinner for her.
Not that he was a great cook, but when the weather lightened up, he could grill steaks.
He added them to the cart, along with some baking potatoes.
By the time he was headed back to the car, the storm had eased to a mere sprinkle again, and the sun was struggling to shine through the clouds. Golden rays reflected off the pavement, putting a good dose of steam in the air.
An elderly woman in front of him struggled with her cart around a big pothole, so he shifted his bags into one hand and hurried over to help her.
That took longer than he’d expected, when she assumed he’d escort her to her car, which he did.
Once there, she opened the trunk of an older-model Buick and offered him two dollars to get everything inside.
A grin got the better of him as he said, “Thank you, ma’am, but I’m glad to help.” He set his bags in her cart to free up his hands, then moved her bags into the trunk, including a huge bag of dog food. “Will you be able to get that inside?”
“I have a young man who lives next door. He’ll get it into the house for me.”
“You’re all right to drive in this weather?”
Over her cat-eye glasses, she frowned at him. “I’ve been driving longer than you’ve lived.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t doubt that, since she appeared to be in her eighties. “I just know some people are nervous in storms.”
“I’m not one of them. If I don’t take care of things, they don’t get done. Except for heavy lifting, but that’s why I pay the young man next door.”
Personally, Brogan thought the “young man” ought to help her without pay. “All right, then. I’ll put the cart away for you, okay?”
“Thank you.” She glanced back and said with a teasing glint in her eyes, “Drive carefully now. Don’t let the weather spook you.”
Brogan laughed out loud. “No, ma’am.” He watched as she cautiously pulled away, going at a snail’s pace, which was maybe a good thing, until she left the lot and disappeared along the main road.
When he looked toward his own car, he saw Pixie smiling happily at him through the rain-streaked window.
He quickly stowed the cart in a corral and strode to his SUV.
Peeking in, he saw both kids were still sleeping, but it was doubtful he’d be able to get the bags into the back without waking them.
Pixie waved him to her side of the car and opened the door as he reached her. Very quietly, she said, “Just put them on the floor by my feet. With any luck, the kids will sleep until we get home, so they’ll both get their afternoon naps in.”
As silently as possible, he put the plastic bags on the floor. Her feet were small enough that she still had room, though it couldn’t be comfortable.