No judgment. No questioning me.
Unlike my uncle, who said I was a failure of a mother who couldn’t even properly care for my own child.
Should have taken care of this problem before it got to this, is what he said. As if it were his choice, not mine. As if my body is simply an extension of his possessions to bargain, sell, or do with as he pleases.
Tears sting my eyes, so I look away before he can catch me crying. I swear my hormones are even worse now than they were when I was pregnant.
Thankfully, Hayes is unbothered by my quick change of mood. He digs into the diaper bag for bottles, and he follows my directions on which ones have purified water and how to mix the formula for me. My heart clenches when he screws on the top and smiles, proud to have done something for his daughter.
“Thank you.” It comes out raw as he hands me the bottle.
Charlie is chewing her fingers until I tap her lips, and she frantically latches on. She settles, gripping my hand as her big, beautiful eyes stare up at me.
Hayes steps closer, his breath catching. “She has green eyes.”
“She hasyoureyes.” I rock her. “I love those sounds she makes when she’s eating.”
Hayes hums, not taking his eyes off her. He’s stepped closer but still keeps a foot of distance between us.
This is so different from the night we spent together. The comfortable familiarity still exists, even as we try to figure out this new situation. We’re walking on eggshells, but I’m not the least bit nervous with his presence.
I wasn’t sure if I remembered him right after all these months. Looking up at him now, he’s exactly as I remembered him.
Wild.
Exciting.
Chaotic.
He’s a man who grabs life and lives it to the fullest. It’s exhilarating. I would lie in bed at night and hold onto that feeling of being around him. I’d remind myself what it was like to embrace life instead of fearing it. I’d imagine his green eyes lighting up when he watched me experience something new. Like he wanted to show me the world, not shield me from it. Like I meant something to him.
Those same intense eyes watch our daughter now. He just met her, and he already looks at her like she’s the center of his world.
Hayes might hate me for running out on him on New Year’s. Or for not finding a way to tell him about Charlie sooner. But he cares about Charlie. He’ll protect her, no matter what he thinks of me.
His phone rings, cutting through the moment, and he steps away to answer the call.
I give him his space, staying in the kitchen and feeding Charlie. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen is outdated. The stove is dull and rusted, caked in old splatters of food. One corner of the counter is chipped.
It’s odd that he keeps the house if he’s just going to let it sit abandoned.
“I need to go take care of something.” Hayes walks back into the kitchen. “The room at the top of the stairs was cleaned last week because people occasionally crash here, so there’s fresh sheets if you’re tired.”
My eyebrows scrunch as I look up at him. “Are you going into the city?”
“Don’t know yet. Won’t know until I meet up with the guys.”
“My uncle probably knows where I am by now.” Which means Hayes isn’t safe.
“He does,” Hayes confirms, and my stomach sinks. “But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere alone. I’ll be with my brothers, and we’ve got each other’s backs.”
“Will you be back?” I try to bury the worry in my voice but fail. “Or do you stay at the clubhouse? I feel bad we’re taking up your space.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “And yeah, usually I crash at the clubhouse, but I’ll be back here to check on you two when I’m done. Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone, freckles.”
That nickname.
That smile—small and devious.
