Nothing rattles me. Nothing throws me off my game. Not until Emery places my baby girl in my arms, and I can hardly breathe. Wetness pooling in the corners of my eyes. I didn’t even cry at my mother’s funeral. But looking down at this small person who has my nose and eyes—my mother’s eyes—the world slips out from under me.
“See.” Emery smiles, brushing Charlie’s dark hair while I rock her in my arms. “She likes you already.”
“That’s because she’s sleeping.” I smile, and Emery rolls her eyes.
All sass and beauty.
It’s the first hint of the fiery girl I remember meeting on New Year’s, and I want more of that. Her spark. Her free spirit. I want to see Emery brimming with life again.
“Charlie usually doesn’t sleep well with anyone but me.” Emery’s smile falters. “My uncle tried to bring in a night nurse in the beginning, but she just cried and cried until I went to her. I think even at that age, she sensed something was wrong—that being there was no good for us. It wasn’t home.”
“You’re home now,” I promise, no matter the ghosts rattling these walls around me.
She presses her lips together, meeting my gaze. Tears brim in her eyes, but she hesitates to respond. Like she doesn’t trust this yet. She doesn’t trustmeyet, no matter what she said. I understand, even if I plan on proving to her that she can.
Charlie stirs, and I look down to see her nuzzling against me.
“We should probably put her to bed,” Emery says. “The girls brought a crib earlier. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“I figured you might need a few things, and they know more about that stuff than I do, so I’m glad they were helpful.”
“They were. And they were nice.”
“You say that like it’s surprising.”
“I guess it was a little surprising.” She chews her lower lip. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had friends. Not that that’s what they are. But they treated me like one anyway. I didn’t realize so many kids lived on the compound.”
“There are more than you met today.” I chuckle. “The older ones were in school.”
“It’s not what I expected after… well… the clubhouse.”
“Yeah, not our finest moment.” I sway as Charlie starts to stir. “Most of the ranked guys have settled down, gotten married, started families. But a lot of the other members are still single, so patching-in parties can get a little wild.”
“And you…” She scans my face, pausing on my mouth for a breath before shaking her head. “Never mind.”
“Nah, say it. What were you going to ask?”
Emery shifts on her feet. “What category do you fall into? The taken guys or the single ones?”
I can’t help the smile that climbs at that little flare of jealousy because that’s how I felt the second she told me her uncle was marrying her to someone else. I was ready to force her to get divorced and find the guy so I could skin him alive.
Still, she stands here asking if I’m taken or single? She doesn’t see that with one kiss she took everything.
“There’s no one but you,” I tell her.
It’s a little bold and puts all my cards on the table, but I’ve never been the kind of guy who doesn’t go all in. I bet the house and deal with the consequences later. With my daughter in my arms and Emery standing in front of me, I’m betting to win.
Emery bites back a smile, dropping her chin like she thinks that will hide her blush. “Good.”
Charlie’s face scrunches again, but it doesn’t soothe this time. She wiggles around and then bursts into tears.
“Oh, shit. Did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything.” Emery’s tone is calm and reassuring—the opposite of mine. She reaches for Charlie, humming as she takes her in her arms. “Our conversation is probably just waking her up. I’m going to put her to bed.”
My eyes don’t leave them the entire time Emery walks up the stairs. When she reaches the top, she must feel mestaring because she glances down, biting back a smile as she turns the corner into Charlie’s room.
I hang my cut by the front door and strip off my boots, but I’m still wired from today and starving, so I head into the kitchen. It’s late, so I expect Emery to go to bed herself, but she meets me in the kitchen after putting Charlie down, slipping onto a barstool.
