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He pulled the damp tank top over his head and used it to wipe the droplets of sweat from his brow and neck. He tossed it on a weight bench before walking out to meet her.
The moment she came into view, he could tell something was wrong.
“What happened?” he asked, concerned with an angry tinge.
She didn’t answer right away but instead walked toward Harley’s room to lay him in his crib.
He followed behind her. “Farren, talk to me. What’s going on?” he ordered.
She took her time laying Harley down with gentle hands. She caressed his face and waited a few seconds to make sure he was comfortable before she turned to walk across the hall to their bedroom.
Again, Rogan followed her. When she made a beeline for her dresser to gather a change of clothes for after a shower, he moved in front of her and grabbed her by the arms.
“Farren, look at me.” He waited until she complied, dipping his head to catch her eyes. “What is it?”
“I was just at Gramma’s when…” she began, but paused with her teeth scraping her bottom lip.
“When...?” he said, urging her to continue. His patience was growing thin, knowing something was up, and he couldn’t do anything about it until he knew what it was.
“My dad showed up.”
It was all she had to say.
Farren hadn’t spoken a lot about her dad, but there hadn’t been a lot to say about him. He had left when she was really young, and she hadn’t heard from or seen him since. He could only
imagine what kind of shock it would have been to see him show up at her Gramma’s today.
His hands that had been gripping her arms loosened, and he snaked his arms around her, pulling her in close to him. He could feel her relax the slightest amount within his embrace, and she wrapped her arms around his waist in return, laying her head against his chest.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked through her thick, dark-brown hair.
She simply shook her head no but stood there letting him hold her for a while. Finally, she stirred, and he looked down to see what she might say.
“Rogan?” she asked, still clasping her arms around him.
“Yes, baby?” he responded.
“You were just working out, weren’t you?” she asked.
He stiffened and pulled back from her with his arms still locked tightly around her. “Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re all sweaty!” she said, feigning a look of disgust that she was only able to hold for a few seconds before she broke out into a chuckle.
His arms unlocked from around her, and he bent down to pick her up. She shrieked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck to hold onto him.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I believe you were just on your way to take a shower, were you not, Miss Fields?” he said in his most professional voice.
“I was…” she said with skepticism.
“So was I.”
EIGHT
Pushing a baby stroller through the crowded halls of the Houston Galleria that Sunday, Farren spotted Shea thumbing through a discount clothing rack in front of the Lucky Brand Jeans store.
“There’s your Auntie Shea!” Farren sang in her high-pitched, baby-talk voice as she wheeled Harley closer.
