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Landry looks into my eyes. “I love you, Silas, but I don’t trust you, either. I keep worrying you’ll turn on me. That’s normal. We’ve been screwed over by people before. We’re still strangers in so many ways. But you’re like no man I’ve ever known. I’m working to convince myself to trust you. Over time, you’ll do the same with me.”
“I know you’re not Kati.”
“No, I’m not. And you’re not Neal. But that doesn’t make us safe,” she says and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “You learned to keep people away. You only allow a select few into your circle. That’s why you pushed away your blood brother when he lashed out at you. Meanwhile, I’ve spent my life hoping a new man or family might give me what I’m missing. Only my kids clicked, but I couldn’t lean on them. You, though, have proven yourself. Woodrow and Rosemary accept me. I have girlfriends. Though I’m happy, I still worry it’ll fall apart.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I soak in her warm body and wish I had made this day better. I know I shouldn’t be whining right now. Except I told Landry never to lie to me. Hiding from her isn’t an option.
“We’re not naïve kids,” she whispers and kisses me softly. “We’d be stupid to trust in this new life so quickly. Time will prove what we feel in our hearts is real.”
“I’m a flawed, fucked-up man, but I keep hoping I can fix everything in a perfect, non-fucked-up way. I’ve never been a dreamer. I usually accept only what’s possible rather than fantasize about out-of-reach shit. With you, though, I want perfect outcomes. Today should have been better. Most of that is on the Coppers, but I fucked up, too.”
“You don’t really know how to be a husband and father yet. Most of the people you love are bikers. They can hold their own. You don’t have to protect them like you do with the kids and me. You’re still learning. Why can’t you be patient with yourself like you are with me?”
Leveling my gaze on hers, I cock an eyebrow. “I’ve been pushy with you from day one.”
Landry grins. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“No lying.”
“Okay, I onlyslightlynoticed, but I was too impressed by your kindness and sexy body to mind.”
Allowing a grin, I glance at the quiet bassinet. “Do you think she’s okay?”
“Yes. She ate well and got pissed when I changed her diaper. All normal baby stuff.”
Nodding, I remain unconvinced. Not that I know anything concrete about babies. I only held Michael once before his real father showed up. Years ago, I tried to hold a newborn Ralph Junior. When the kid made a weird noise, I nearly threw him back at Ruin.
“I’m not good at holding babies,” I tell Landry, who remains wrapped in my arms. “I can barely handle toddlers.”
“You can practice on Brooklyn’s baby doll when we get home,” she whispers as her eyes struggle to stay open. “Oh, and I need to get discharged tomorrow afternoon. Staying two nights won’t work.”
“No, you need more rest and to be supervised for birth issues.”
“Silas,” she says, stroking my jaw, “our babies are scared. When they went down for a nap, we were right there. They got up, and we were gone. Now, they’ve gone to bed without their mama to tuck them in. They’re too little to truly understand what’s happening. I need to get home to them.”
“You need to be safe,” I insist, cupping her face and trying to mentally will her to obey.
Rather than break under the power of my scowling, she explains, “Imagine them in the morning, waking up to Rosemary and Woodrow. Beau will likely start asking for me and keep asking nonstop until I appear. He won’t eat or drink. He’ll just wander around, asking for his mommy. And Brooklyn thinks another mother will take her away. She doesn’t understand about the baby. She was too young when Beckett was born. She’ll just think I left her.”
Landry glances at Brigitte before tears fill her eyes. “Beckett is so little. He’ll see his brother and sister spiraling and think the world is ending. Then, there’s Blair, still recovering from what happened today. She wants to protect them, but she needs to be comforted rather than take charge. They’re hurting, and we’re their parents. We need to get home to them.”
The picture Landry paints leaves me agitated. I wish we could leave right now. This bed isn’t comfortable. I can’t fit in that pull-out thing the nurse showed me. The kids are stressed out. I bet Rosemary and Woodrow are remembering why they chose to skip having children of their own. And on another floor of this very hospital, several Copper idiots are receiving care.
“You can’t do too much,” I insist as I mimic her yawn.
“I’ll just sit on the couch and take turns hugging everyone.”
“If you have any pain or issues, don’t play the martyr.”
“I promise to be careful.”
Kissing Landry, I realize my heart hurts. I feel the loss of Michael now as if it just happened. Meanwhile, I struggle with wanting to get my family home, where we can be safe together. The past rises, breaking me a little before the future distracts with stressful thoughts of the kids needing to see their mama.
After a fitful night of dozing and a tense morning of filling out paperwork, I get Landry and Brigitte Bennings discharged. Woodrow drives over with an infant car seat and gets my SUV set up. We return home to find a scene similar to what Landry painted last night
Beau walks circles around the kitchen table, saying “mommy” in the hoarse voice of a little boy who’s spent hours calling for her. Landry kneels in front of her son and forces him to see her.
“I’m home, Beau. I had the baby, and I’m home,” she says and takes his hands to rest on her cheeks. “Do you see Mommy?”
