Chapter 15
The next morning, before the kids were awake, Pixie again snuck from the bedroom through the kitchen.
She hadn’t done much sleeping in her own bed.
She and Brogan had dozed on the couch, but he was far too large for both of them to sleep there comfortably.
When they heard Shayna wake up, he insisted she should go on to bed.
She’d wanted to stay, to get a bottle for Shayna, or change her diaper, or do anything to lend him a hand. He’d touched her chin, kissed her softly, and said, “I’ve got this. Andy will be up in a few hours. You need some sleep.”
Reluctantly, she’d gone to her room, wishing with her entire heart that they could sleep the rest of the morning together. Still, the moment she’d gotten under her covers, she’d faded into a deep sleep.
The second she’d awakened, she remembered why she’d gone to him last night in the first place. Instead of conversation, she’d gotten so much more. It was difficult to sigh and smile at the same time, but she managed.
Andy was still sound asleep, curled up on his side in his footed pajamas, his chubby little cheeks smooshed and his lips open. Looking at him always filled her with tearful gratitude. He was her own little miracle, born on her birthday.
He was the greatest birthday present she’d ever received.
She’d understood what Brogan meant when he’d said Shayna had saved him, because Andy had done the same for her.
Not that her life had been anywhere near as difficult as Brogan’s.
Not at all. But during the worst of her illness, when she’d hurt all over and weakness had seemed to permeate her every muscle, even her bones, she knew she would have given up and just faded away—except that she already loved Andy.
From the moment she’d found out she was carrying him, she’d known the most indescribable love, the kind of love that made anything and everything possible, even survival under horrible health issues.
Easing from the room, she went through the kitchen and into the living room.
Stopping to listen, she detected no sounds, but a moment later, Brogan came from the enclosed porch.
He wore his jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, and carried a shirt and socks.
His hair was too short to get messy, but it was somewhat smashed on one side, like velvet nap brushed the wrong way.
She smiled at the sight of him. “Good morning.”
He strode right up to her, kissed her mouth, and ran his hand over her disheveled hair.
Unlike him, her hair was badly tangled. “I didn’t even think to brush it.”
“You’re too beautiful for words.”
Loving him more by the second, she said, “Maybe coffee will kick-start us both.”
Around a yawn, he nodded. On their way back into the kitchen, he said, “Shayna’s back asleep. Andy?”
“Still sleeping, too.” In a cabinet beside the sink, she got down the coffee and a filter for the basket.
Brogan looped his arms around her from behind. “Right now, I’d like nothing more than to strip you naked again, this time in the morning sunlight.”
That sounded both amazing and terrifying. Despite what he’d said, she still had reservations about the changes in her body. “Um …”
“I need you to know how gorgeous you are, that every inch of you is perfection.”
Now she really needed the coffee. “These days,” she whispered, “my hips are a little wider.”
Brogan growled near her ear. “Your hips … mmm.”
Her lips twitched. “I used to have a flat stomach, but not anymore.”
“You have a woman’s body.” He opened his mouth on the side of her neck and grazed his teeth over her sensitive skin.
Talking wasn’t easy. “I have a few stretch marks.”
“Here,” he said, cupping his hands over her breasts. “I know.”
Her breathing grew heavier.
“You birthed a baby, Pixie. How incredible is that? Your body went through a lot of work and then you breastfed your son.”
“I couldn’t afford formula anyway, but I had already decided to breastfeed him.”
He released her breasts to cross his arms around her and give her a warm hug. “Every inch of your body makes me hot—your beautiful face, your soft hair, the way you smile … Your sexy hips, stomach, and breasts are icing on the cake.”
“The marks really didn’t bother you?”
“Get real. I see you and I want you. I barely noticed them. Besides, nothing about you could ever bother me—unless you told me to get lost.”
“I would never!”
“I’m glad.” He brushed his nose over her hair and mused quietly, “Everything feels different today, at least to me.”
“To me, too.”
Where did they go from here?
“I woke up with you on my mind, already wanting you again,” Brogan said. “But I think we have some things to discuss, and the kids will be awake soon.”
Both relieved and disappointed, Pixie filled the carafe. “Was Shayna up long last night?”
“Long enough for me to change her diaper, give her a bottle, and hold her for a bit. My little Sugar loves to snuggle during the night.”
“I think that was more toward morning,” Pixie teased, enjoying the feel of him close to her back. “But yes, she loves snuggling with you. She always rubs her face into your neck.”
“Which is why I shave every day, whether I feel like it or not.” He ran a hand over his raspy morning whiskers. “She’s a delicate little thing.”
A small light over the sink barely illuminated the room, but shortly there would be sunlight pouring in. “Last night, when I came out—there was something I wanted to tell you.”
“What is it?” he asked, his lips skimming along her shoulder.
Knowing this wouldn’t be a pleasant subject for him, Pixie started the coffeepot and then turned in his arms to face him. “How Ruthie knew where you were …”
Concern brought his brows together. “What Erin said made sense. She loved Connie the way you love Marlow. If she says Connie likely left other papers, she probably did.”
What he said struck her. What would I do if I lost Marlow?
Marlow was such a big part of her life. In many ways, the best part of her. The thought of losing her sent a shaft of sympathy for Erin through her.
She leaned into Brogan. “That’s the thing, though. If Ruthie found things Connie had written, then it’s possible she discovered more than just your location here in Bramble.”
“Such as?”
Clearly, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. The problems were piling up on him, and then they’d spent the night—or most of it—together. Pixie worried that he might leave just to find some peace and quiet. He’d take Shayna, of course—she didn’t doubt that—and the idea was equally unbearable.
She loved them both.
Last night reassured her that she was making progress. She believed he wanted to stay.
But would he?
“Promise me you won’t do anything until we’ve had a chance to sort it out.”
“Sort what out?” New concern showed in his expression. “How can I make a promise when I don’t know what I’m dealing with?”
“Well, you could try trusting me.”
His worry lifted and he drew her in close. “I’ve trusted you from the moment I read the notes Connie left about you. Meeting you just made it more personal.”
With her face against his warm, solid chest, his indescribable, addictive scent filling her head, Pixie asked, “Do you mean that?”
Brushing his mouth against her temple, he said, “I swear it to you. And because you trust Marlow and Cort so much, I’m inclined to feel the same about them. I know good people when I meet them.”
Perfect … she couldn’t ask for more than that. Drawing away from him, she looked up and said, “If Ruthie knew you were here, she might know about Andy and Shayna’s wealthy grandparents, too.”
After a moment, he stepped away with a groan. “Shit. If I don’t deal with her, she’ll turn to them. That’s all I need.”
“Eventually, they’ll need to know about Shayna.”
“Sugar isn’t a secret. I’ll proudly show her to anyone. I wanted to do it one person at a time, though.”
“I understand,” Pixie said, because she did. The coffee was ready, so she poured them each a cup, and they took seats at the table.
“After the things you’ve told me about them, I’m not even sure they’ll be interested in meeting Shayna.”
“Oh, they’ll be interested.” Pixie wasn’t sure how they’d react, though.
Remembering how staunchly they’d defended Dylan, as if their son could do no wrong—as if he hadn’t cheated on Marlow, hadn’t gotten Pixie pregnant while married to another woman—made her believe they’d be devastated by the news.
Then again, this shouldn’t be anything new to them. They’d already had to face the fact that Dylan wasn’t the paragon they’d envisioned.
Brogan sat back in the chair. “Ruth will try to extort money from them.”
“They’ll destroy her if she does.”
“Or,” he said, disgust heavy in his tone, “they’ll give in to her blackmail to keep their son’s name untarnished.”
A little late for that, she thought. “Would you like me to tell them?”
“No.” He sat forward again. “I’ll take care of it.”
Pixie considered him, but she could see from his expression that he wouldn’t shirk what he considered his responsibility, so she nodded.
Then he surprised her by saying, “I’d like it if you were there, too. They know you, and I think you care about them.”
Yes, in her own fashion, she did. How could she not when they were Andy’s grandparents?
“That is, if you want to be a part of it. No pressure.” He huffed out a breath. “Damn it, I don’t know the right move here.”
“Then let me help by saying I appreciate that you’d include me, and yes, I’d like to be with you when you call.” She briefly squeezed his hand. “I’ll get the phone number for you.”
He caught her hand before she stood. “Let’s wait until the kids are up. I’ll call late morning.”
As if he was eager to start the ball rolling, Andy called out to her, and seconds later, they heard Shayna. With a shared smile, they headed in different directions, each to change diapers.