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For Penelope.
For me.
“Any interesting news?” I rubbed my thumb over his.
“Nothing groundbreaking. We hope to have video footage of Penelope’s whereabouts in the next few days. He’s piecing together an exact timeline to prove she wasn’t anywhere near that kid when he died. I might not have solid evidence of who did it, but as long as I can show she didn’t, that’s what’s important.”
His body stiffened as his tension ramped up. Didn’t we have enough to worry about just trying to bring Penelope back?
Kane had to divide his attention to something she had nothing to do with instead of concentrating on what was most important. Her health.
I hurt for Michael Rhodes’s mother, though I most certainly didn’t appreciate the lawsuit. A few days ago, I could only sympathize with her on a certain level as a mother who hadn’t experienced the loss of a child.
With Penelope at risk, I understood what she was going through on a deeper level. I imagined I’d want to lash out at any and every one too.
Kane looked across the room at Penelope. “Come back to us, Lamb.” He spoke loud enough that if she were awake, she’d be able to hear.
“She will.”
“Now who’s being the voice of reason?” His fingers tightened around mine.
“I have my moments.”
He tapped his foot. “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but do you think you should tell your mother?”
“No.” My answer was immediate and without thought.
“I suppose after seeing my parents—”
“Sheis not them.”
“They were pretty torn up about Penelope.” There was a bit of awe in his voice.
I bumped his shoulder. “I guess love at first sight runs in the family.”
He didn’t respond. Had I overstepped? Did he not realize he’d loved Penelope from the moment he found out about her?
Given the little bit of time we’d had away from the chaos of the moment, I could easily see how much he cared for our daughter. His instinct was immediate despite not being a well-used muscle.
He’d grown into fatherhood quite well.
“I guess it does.” He kissed the side of my head. “At least with Penelope, it didn’t take me twenty years to recognize it.”
Oh Kane.
This man constantly surprised me with his big heart. He wasn’t the flowery or romantic type in the normal sense.
Kane was so much more.
And everything he did was effortless.
When it came to how he treated me, none of his moves were calculated. I had absolutely no doubt he’d be giving me butterflies until the day I died.
“What’s in that pretty head?”
“You ask that a lot.”
He tilted his head toward me. “Because you’re one of the few people I can’t read.”
