And yet she’d survived, clearly with a better frame of mind than he had. “You don’t resent them?”
“No.” Settling deeper into the couch, her posture relaxed, she explained why. “I’ve tried to look at things from a different viewpoint. If my parents hadn’t flaked out, I wouldn’t have been with Aunt Mary, and those were some of the best times of my life. In the same way, I don’t resent Andy’s father, because if Dylan hadn’t lied to me, I wouldn’t have Andy now—and I wouldn’t have Marlow as a best friend.”
“A nice way to look at it.” Would she feel the same after he fessed up?
“What is it?” she asked.
“It just occurred to me that I don’t know your exact age. You look … young.”
“I’m twenty-one.”
His eyes widened. “But … that would mean you were only nineteen when you got pregnant with Andy.”
“Yes.” Lifting her chin, she said, “Obviously, old enough.”
Physically, sure. He’d seen girls even younger with children on their hips, and sometimes with another on the way. It was the emotional toll that concerned him, the fact that she’d been alone.
Yet here she was, her gentleness and caring still intact. “I wasn’t judging,” he said. “It just took me by surprise.”
Her eyes, so full of challenge, held his. “It was tough at times, but I know your life hasn’t been easy, either—”
“Shit.” He didn’t want her sympathy. “Don’t—”
“But,” she persisted, “if it had been different, you wouldn’t have been here today and Benny likely wouldn’t have made it.”
Okay, he could handle that logic. “So I’ve been moved around like a chess piece, huh?”
“No, I’m just saying there’s always more than one way to see things. Dylan badly hurt Marlow, but if he hadn’t, she’d probably still be with him, going through the motions of life without really living. She wouldn’t have come here to recuperate and she wouldn’t have met Cort. You’d have to see them together to know how perfect they are as a couple.”
Playing along, Brogan said, “If Dylan hadn’t already been married, he might have married you. Your life would be different, too.”
“Believe me, I’ve told myself that many times.” With her lips tilting up in a tiny smile, she shifted closer. “I never knew I could be this happy. I look around at my life, at what I’ve accomplished and the friends I’ve made, and I feel successful. I love being Andy’s mom, my job at the shop is great, and I have respect. That’s a heady thing, and I never would have known it if my life hadn’t gone through a drastic change.”
Brogan wanted to relax, but she was closer now, so close hecould breathe in the scent of her shampoo and lotion. He’d known cravings before, but nothing like the way he craved her. He wanted to hold her close, kiss her, yes—and more—but he also wanted moments like this, every day, every night.
His image of family, of what it should be, was somehow all wrapped up in Pixie—her pretty blue eyes and her optimistic way of viewing the injustices in the world.
He sat back on the couch, but then she did the same and now they were only a few feet apart, their gazes lingering. Every natural instinct he possessed told him to make a move. Lean forward, touch her, kiss her. Drag her closer and hold her … His muscles flinched at the restraint. Fighting an enemy was a lot easier than fighting himself.
When Pixie looked at his mouth, he worried that she might be the one to make the move. He’d totally cave if she did, so he turned away. “If it wasn’t for Shayna …” He started to say that he’d still be in the military, but that wasn’t true. His injuries had been enough to necessitate a medical discharge. Sure, there were wounds people could see, but there were also hidden wounds. A few on his hip that would keep him from peak performance. One on his right foot. He was finally able to jog again, but he wouldn’t be able to handle any major jumps.
Thinking of his physical limitations always soured his mood. For a man who’d pushed himself to dominate whenever possible, it was a bitter reality.
“Brogan?”
Regret was the damnedest thing, sneaking up on him when he least expected it. At least it had worked to tamp down his need for Pixie. “I started to say I left the military for Shayna, but that’d be a lie. You saw my wounds. I’m fine now,” he added, in case she thought to fuss. “But I’m not up to snuff for what the military needs.”
She touched his arm. “You’re still more than most men could ever be.”
He flattened his automatic grin. “Not how I’d look at it, but thanks. The point is, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d still been active duty when I found out about Connie and the baby. I hope I’d have done the right thing.” Somehow, regardless of how complicated it might have been. “I was still in the hospital, though.”
Pixie scooted closer. “Because the injuries were so severe?”
And because he’d given up—but that was a shame he’d keep to himself. “I was going through rehabilitation. Finding out about Shayna really kicked me into gear. It was Connie’s friend who found me.”
“They were close?”
“Erin Benning is a powerhouse. A family law attorney, but after meeting her, I think she’d outtalk and outmaneuver anyone in any setting. The military could have used her to develop strategy.” He shared a quick grin. “Connie was a paralegal, but also worked as her personal assistant for added income. They were good friends. Thankfully, Erin had all of Connie’s legal papers, as well as instructions and other details that Connie wanted shared.” Feeling the tension seep in, Brogan ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I wasn’t easy to find, but Erin managed because it was important.” Unfortunately, it had taken her a little too long. Brogan’s fault, not hers.
