Those steely gray eyes of his smoldered. “Anytime.”
As long as he was so agreeable, she added, “I want sleepovers on the weekend.”
“Sleepovers?”
“Yes. I need a sleeping bag. We’ll camp out right here on the living-room floor.” If he could sleep on the floor, she could, too, especially if it meant being curled up with him. “I’ll leave Andy’s door ajar, and you’ll be able to hear Shayna.”
“And we’ll be together.” He did some tricky SEAL maneuver, and she was suddenly on her back with him over her. “I’ll get your sleeping bag for you.” Brushing his mouth over hers, he said, “I love you, Pixie. Always. Somehow I’m going to make this work.”
July rolled in with a heat wave that could melt the fish in the lake. It reminded him of summers in northern Africa, but no longer in such a bad way. The memory of the covert op that went wrong didn’t put his chest in a vise. It would never be a comfortable memory, definitely not a happy one—but therewere happy moments mixed in. Goofy conversations with his brothers, bad jokes that made the rounds, pranks, and, occasionally, times when they’d truly been able to help innocent people.
Brogan figured it was all about balance. These days, the great memories far outweighed the bad, and he gathered more of them every time he was with Pixie.
They made that perfect little family unit he’d always considered unattainable, at least for him.
Not anymore.
Pixie was a greedy little thing, insisting on every second she could have with him, and God Almighty, he loved it so much. Lovedherso much. The nights when he slept alone at the lake house grew fewer and further between. They’d fallen into such a natural rhythm together, it was honestly easier to stay at the cottage and sleep on the floor.
Pixie considered it an adventure, but that’s because she usually slept more on him than beside him.
He’d interviewed for several jobs, but there was one in particular that excited him. It was consulting for a security firm behind the scenes as an intelligence analyst. Best of all, he could usually work from home.
The money was decent, the benefits—added to his VA benefits and disability pay—would be more than enough, so he’d accepted.
That was another new experience: discussing decisions with someone who got excited for him. Pixie had been thrilled with his plans, and she’d promised that she could help out with Shayna on the days he needed to be away, just as he now helped with Andy when she put in extra hours.
Today he let Andy play in a kiddie pool in the yard while he dipped in Shayna’s toes. She happily kicked and squealed each time her feet touched the chilly water, and that kept Andy laughing.
He’d covered both kids in sunscreen and used a large beach umbrella to shade them. It was still broiling hot.
When his phone buzzed, he put Shayna on the big quilt in the shade and then sat in the lawn chair facing the pool so he could keep an eye on both of them.
He checked the screen and answered. “Hey, Erin.”
“Sorry to call, Brogan.”
Her tone told him it wouldn’t be great news. “Is it Brian?” His father hadn’t done much recovering. One complication after another, with an already-overtaxed system, had worked against him.
“I’m sorry, but he passed away.”
“When?”
“A few hours ago.”
Just then, Andy splashed toward Shayna. “Sorry, Erin, hang on one sec.” He set aside the phone and went to explain to Andy. “We gotta be easy, bud, remember? I’ll bring Shayna over to get her toes wet again as soon as I finish my call, okay?”
“My baby.”
He grinned despite himself. “Your babysisterdoesn’t want water to hit her face, okay? It might make her cry.”
Immediately concerned, Andy turned to look at her. “No, no, no,” he said in a soft voice, shaking his finger at her.
Brogan kissed his head. “You are such a stellar big brother.” He offered his fist. With a grin, Andy brought up his own small fist to tap it.
Returning to the phone, he said to Erin, “Sorry. I’m watching the kids.”
“You’re … okay?”
