“You’ve made me curious,” she said.
“Good.” He just hoped she’d stay that way long enough to hear it all. If she kicked him out too soon, he knew he’d have a hell of a time ever working his way back in.
CHAPTER8
Never before had Pixie realized she was such an impatient person. Every minute or two, she glanced toward the living room and that large canvas portfolio that Brogan had carried in and deposited in the foyer.
Though he tried to hide it, he was tense. Whatever he had to tell her, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it?
“That was the best fried chicken I’ve ever had.”
Pixie was pleased with how well the dinner had turned out, even though the day had been so wild. “I’m still a fairly new cook, but I’m learning.”
“Marlow is teaching you?”
“Ha! She doesn’t cook. Honestly, Marlow can do anything she sets her mind to—and yes, that’s hero worship. Wait until you meet her, and then you’ll see. But mostly it’s Cort who’s been teaching me, as well as Gloria and Bobbi. They’re siblings, and they crack me up, especially when they start bickering with their brother, Wade. They’re all older now, but still carry on like they’re kids.”
“I was never around any siblings. Do they … What did you call it? Bicker?”
She grinned as she dried the last dish Brogan handed to her. “I wasn’t around siblings, either, but Gloria, Bobbi, and Wadeswear they went at each other daily. Wade claims it was mostly thegirlsganging up on him.”
Brogan smiled. “Might have been fun, don’t you think?”
“What?” He gave all his attention to arranging the dishrag over the middle of the sink. “Having a brother or sister.”
“Maybe. I have Marlow now, and she’s like a big sister. As an adult woman, I think it’s pretty awesome to have someone that close.”
“Imagine if you’d grown up with her.” His pale gaze settled on her. “Don’t you think it would have been … less lonely?”
Pixie put the dish into the cabinet. “I can’t have any more children.” There, she’d said it—even though it hurt. She felt Brogan freeze beside her. “I told you, when I had Andy, there were complications. Well, they led to a hysterectomy.”
“I didn’t know that.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ve accepted it.” For the most part. Crossing her arms and looking up at him, she stated, “Any man hoping to have a kid of his own should steer clear of me.”
The intensity of his gaze ramped up, and then his mouth softened. He reached her in one big step, but only to take her wrists and bring her arms down to her sides. “Don’t be defensive, Pixie. Men will want to be with you because you’re beautiful, not because you’re a baby maker—even though you did make a damn perfect kid.”
They both glanced toward Andy. He was on his stomach showing toys to Shayna again and jabbering away. She’d rolled to her back and was busy playing with her toes.
“He really is perfect,” she agreed. “Even with his silly hair that won’t lie down.”
Brogan grinned. “Cowlicks, I think they’re called. Shayna has one at her crown that makes her hair swirl in that spot.”
“Dylan had one,” she said, before she thought better of it.“He hated it and paid a fortune at salons to have his hair styled in a way so it wouldn’t show.”
“You’re joking.”
“Every time he passed a mirror, he checked it.”
Stepping away and again rubbing the back of his neck, a sure sign of frustration, Brogan asked, “How’s your schedule looking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Now, the rest of the evening. I know you have your bedtime routine.”
“If you want to talk, this is a good time. The kitchen is done, the kids are playing.” And she was desperate to know what was so important, what he thought might piss her off.
“You want to sit on the couch? We can keep the kids in sight that way.”
