Andy immediately grinned and said, “Fend.”
“Hello, sweetie.” Marlow made several kissing sounds. “We miss you.”
He made kissing sounds back and then repeated, “Fend.”
“Yes,” Pixie said, “Brogan is your friend,” to help Marlow understand.
“Ah, yes, a new friend. And did you meet a baby?”
Babbling fast now, Andy told her all about it in his excitedlittle squeaky voice. Though she was sure Marlow had only under stood a few words, she was still suitably impressed.
Because Pixie never wanted to leave anyone trapped on a phone with a chatty toddler, she checked that Andy’s diaper was dry, then found him a few colorful indestructible books to enjoy and settled him in his playpen. He stretched out on his stomach to “read,” which meant playing with the book and enjoying the colors.
“I’m back,” Pixie said, again putting the phone on the counter so she could return to work.
“Andy is sure taken with Brogan.”
“It was wild, how quickly they bonded.” She rearranged some shirts, trying to decide whether they should be hung by color or size. “I think it might be because Brogan has the same type of presence as Cort. You know, quiet and confident.” Until the occasional memory disturbed him. “Brogan probably seemed familiar to Andy, since he and Cort are close.”
“Mmm, now I’m doubly intrigued, so let’s hear the description.”
Closing her eyes, Pixie could almost see him again. “He’s tall. Even taller than Cort. Dark blond hair—like almost brown with some sun highlights around his temples. Cut military short, but not too short. He has these intense gray eyes. Really direct. Big shoulders, big hands”—big everywhere, from what she could tell—“but he’s gentle with the kids.”
“Go on.”
Pixie laughed. “Lecher. That’s all I know. He seems to favor worn jeans and plain shirts.”
“He sounds delicious, and I think you should go for it.”
While straightening the shirts, Pixie said, “Go for what? I have a baby, remember. And he has an infant. The only thing we could go for, if he was even inclined, would be a quick kiss.But,” she stressed, before Marlow could weigh in, “that’s not on the agenda.” Yes, Brogan made her think things, but shehadn’t lost her senses. She was still working on herself, a never-ending process, now that she was a mother. She wanted to be the best parent possible for Andy. That left little time for entertainment of any sort, especially the big, hot male type of entertainment.
Priorities. Andy first, then his future, and of course her own continued improvement.
But for the first time in a long time, she was tempted.
“Anyway,” Pixie said, getting her mind back on track, “aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“We’re at the pool. I’m relaxing in the shade with a juicy novel while everyone else is eyeballing my husband.”
“Everyone?”
“Women with interest, I’m sure, and guys with envy. Oh, Pixie, he looks so fine in his trunks. I’m just sitting here under an umbrella, taking it in and glowing. How did I get so lucky?”
“It’s not luck, it’s reciprocal awesomeness. You two deserve each other in all the best possible ways.”
“Yes,” Marlow said softly. “It’s so ironic that Dylan’s bad choices brought us all together. Do you ever think about the quirks of fate, or heavenly intervention, or whatever?”
“All the time,” Pixie admittedly softly. If she hadn’t made such a huge, awful mistake with Dylan, if her pregnancy hadn’t been so problematic, if she hadn’t hit rock bottom and come to Marlow for help—if, if, if …
She and Marlow had both gone silent, so when a tap sounded on the big window, Pixie jumped. Hand to her heart, she looked up, and there was Brogan smiling at her through the glass, with Shayna held in a carrier on his chest.
At first, she just stared at him; then Pixie rushed forward to unlock and open the door. “Hey, there.”
“Am I too early?” He glanced at the sign on the door stating the shop hours. “I am. Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I open in just a few minutes.”
“Pixie?” Marlow asked. “You there?”
