Brogan didn’t give her a chance to say more. “He fathered another child.”
Marlow blinked.
Rushing out her words, Pixie said, “Shayna is Andy’s half sister. I know, it’s such a close thing on the timing, but I worked out all the math—and honestly, you can see it when you look at them. It’s even more than that, though. Maybe Andy would have been taken with any baby, but, Marlow, he’s over the moon withthisbaby. With Shayna.”
Again, Brogan took over. “I wanted her to know her family, good family, I mean.”
Expression a little dazed, Marlow said quietly, “Pixie and Andy are certainly wonderful.”
Cort was often quiet, but this time Pixie had no idea of his mood. “Cort?”
“Sorry. I was doing my own math.”
“I wanted children, you know. Dylan always said he wasn’t ready.” Marlow smiled up at Cort. “He’s willing.”
Cort held her gaze. “Whatever you want.”
“But I’m so happy now, and everything is … was … so perfect.” Marlow looked at each of them. “I don’t mean that Shayna isn’t perfect. I just …”
Pixie realized her hands were shaking. She clasped them together and leaned into Brogan.
With a glance of surprise, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer. “Pixie only just found out,” he explained. “I know it’s a lot for all of you to take in. You need time, and instead you pulled up and found Ruth raging in your driveway. Again, I’m damned sorry.”
Marlow waved off his apology. “I wondered why you were here and why it seemed you were focusing on Pixie. Not that I don’t think she’s amazing and deserves every bit of attention any man would give her.”
Both Brogan and Pixie remained silent.
After a long look, Marlow continued speaking. “But your attention felt deliberate, and at first that concerned me.”
“It was very deliberate, actually.” Brogan cleared his throat. “My sister, Connie, left a lot of paperwork when she died. It was as if she’d been writing out thoughts and instructions for herself, things she considered important, but also things she hoped to do for Shayna. Sometimes she included me in the notes, saying that if anything ever happened to her, she wanted me to know what to do.”
“The notes were helpful?”
A fleeting smile touched Brogan’s mouth. “You have no idea. Before Shayna, I’d barely held a baby. One of my brothers …” He glanced up at Cort, then at Marlow. “A teammate.”
“Cort is military. I understand.”
He nodded. “Anyway, he had kids, so he was great with them. During a raid, a father needed help with his baby. The kid was older than Andy, but not much bigger. I had him under the arms, wondering what to do, when Detroit stepped in.”
“Detroit?” Pixie asked.
“A brother—from Detroit,” Brogan said. “It was the damnedest thing. While the others were helping the family, I gave the kid a bottle. He stared up at me with the darkest, most intent eyes.” He shook his head. “Anyway, that was the extent of my experience with babies.”
“Until you found out about Shayna?” Marlow asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Believe me, I learned fast. I’m still learning.” He stepped away from Pixie.
To her, it felt like a deliberate move.
“I’m doing the best I can, but I figured it couldn’t hurt for Shayna to know other family.” He looked at each of them. “Connie knew about Pixie because Dylan had told her. It’s complicated, and I was a lousy brother, but Connie knew what it was to be alone, so she’d done her own research. I think, had she lived, she’d be the one reaching out instead of me.”
Everyone was quiet. A wall clock in the kitchen ticked away the seconds.
“I suspected,” Cort admitted, breaking the silence. “Like Marlow, I had suspicions, and I did my own research on you.”
Brogan slowly inhaled—and held the breath.
“You know what really struck me?” Cort asked. “How a man with so few redeeming qualities …”
