I don’t have to ask for an explanation. He chose his kids over Tara, and I don’t blame him one bit.
Lifting my glass, I down the remainder of the whiskey. “I’m getting tired.”
He stands. “I’ll let you get some sleep.” He waits. Our eyes meet and hold. “I’ll look at your car in the morning if you want.”
I get lost in the shades of brown that draw me in. It’s like looking into a canyon on a starry night and seeing every color imaginable, but knowing they’re all shades of the same color. “I’d appreciate that. I don’t know how I’m getting out of here.”
His eyes drift to the window. “It may take a few days.”
I hate the way my heart aches for that to be true.
Stay in your room. Turns out, I’ve never been very good at listening.
BARRON
“I’d like to look at you naked, but that’s not going to happen tonight.”
Why’d she say that? Why’d she have to fucking say that? I’m pissed because the second she put the words out there, my mind can’t move past them. I stare at the alarm clock on my nightstand and watch the minutes tick by. My mind won’t let me drift off to sleep. I fight with myself. The urge to open the door and take her in my arms battles with the need to leave her alone. I don’t need this in my life, or their life. There’s a reason why I don’t date. They don’t need women in their lives. It will only confuse them because I’m not falling in love again. Been there. Done that. It fucked me over. I’m stubborn enough to never try that out again.
As I stare at my nightstand, a memory gnaws its way from the edges of my thoughts. The one where Tara left the ring on the nightstand. The one where she waited until I was asleep before she slipped away into the darkness.
That’s been my experience with love, and I know enough about myself that I don’t want that again. I don’t need it.
I also don’t get any sleep. As you can imagine. For two reasons. My kids are in the house, and I’ve just invited a stranger into our home. I know nothing about her. She could kill us in our sleep for all I know.
Not likely since she probably weighs as much as my legs, and I could take her down with less effort than it takes to carry around two kids on my shoulders, but you never fucking know these days.
And my second reason. I keep thinking about dragging her into my room and having hot, sweaty I-don’t-know-you sex that doesn’t mean anything.
Fucking sue me.
That’s where my thoughts reside, both battling with the other for that number one spot. My dick’s hard, naturally. Three years. It’s been three fucking years since I’ve been laid, and believe me, I thought about paying for it lately. Not because I can’t get it here, but I don’t want the drama that comes with it.
Turning over, I stare at the wall and the window. With my blinds open, I can see the snow still coming down. There’s at least two feet on the ground and more to come before the sun comes up.
I roll over and eye the door. Tempted. What if she’s cold? The gentlemanly thing to do here would be to check on her, right? See if she needs another blanket?
Jesus Christ. Stay in your fucking room.
Would it be wrong to invite her in here? It’s warmer in my bed.
No, it’s not. The fire is going out there. She’s probably too hot. Maybe I should make sure she’s not?
Fuck. No!
Running my hands over my face, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling fan. “Why did I invite her to stay here?” I mumble, just as my bedroom door cracks open.
“Daddy?”
Christ almighty, I can’t catch a fucking break. Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Camdyn, it’s three in the morning. Go back to bed.”
She doesn’t and climbs onto my bed, sitting with her legs tucked under her. “I think there’s a monster in my room.”
I stare at her, blinking slowly. I can’t remember the last night I slept more than four hours. “No, there’s not.”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“No.” Remember my rule about not letting them sleep in my bed? It still stands. “Let’s go check for monsters.” I haul her into my arms and carry her out of my room. At least this way I can check on the girl. Right?
Camdyn rests her head on my chest, yawning. “Daddy?”
“Yes, darlin’?” We pass by Kacy sleeping on the couch. She’s turned to the cushions, and I can’t see her face. What I can see is the curve of her waist and her hair spilling over the pillow. I want to trace my fingertips along the swell of her hips and sweep her hair off her shoulder. That’s not wrong, is it?
Yeah, it is, asshole. Leave her alone.
Camdyn shifts in my arms, lifting her head to watch my face. Touching her finger to my jaw, she tips her head to the side. “Serenity told me that kangaroos can’t fart. Do you think that’s true?”
This makes me mad. It makes me so fucking mad because I don’t need to know this shit, and when I get up at three in the morning with the kids, they tell me crap like this, and I think about it. “I don’t care if they can or can’t.” I kick the door to their room open to see Sev sprawled out in her bed, half on it, half off, and snoring. “What I care about is you going to sleep.”
“But there’s a monster in here. I know there is,” she whines. “I can hear him breathing.”
I set Camdyn on the top bunk and rest my chin on the railing. I can hear Sev talking in her sleep. “Eat the stew,” she mumbles, flipping her hand up and then back down again.
We both laugh lightly. “The only monster in here is Sev.”
Camdyn stares at me, a stuffed Elsa doll in her hand, and beside her, the teddy bear Morgan gave her last week when she fell off Lulu and got right back on again. “Do you know that girl?”
“No. I don’t. Please sleep.”
She closes her eyes. “Fine. But I want to talk to her in the morning.”
“Why?”
“She’s pretty.”
Shaking my head, I reach for her ankles and yank until she’s flat on the mattress, and I cover her with her blanket. “Sleep.”
With a grin, because she knows she’s pushing my patience, she lifts her head up. “Where she come from?”
I want to yell at her to close her fucking eyes and sleep, but it’s been my experience, kids don’t respond to this. They ask more questions and have you eventually questioning your sanity for bringing them into the world. I love my kids more than my own life, but when you haven’t slept much, your rationalization skills weaken. “California,” I tell her, running my hands through my hair.
“Is she going to be my mom?”
“What?” I gasp. “No. I don’t know who she is.”
The corners of her lips twitch. “But maybe you might like her, and she can stay.”
I put my hand over Camdyn’s face. “Sleep. Stop talking.”
“Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “But I’m talking to her in the morning.”
“I never had any doubt,” I whisper, kissing her forehead before leaving their room.
Nerves run through me as I walk back to my room. But I stop in the living room. My stare unintentionally moves to the couch, where Kacy is now turned toward me. She’s sleeping or pretending to be. She’s half on the couch, half off, sleeping much like Sev does. I don’t know why, but I stare at her face, and the way the flames of the fireplace reflect on her skin has me thinking maybe getting to know her wouldn’t be so bad.