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Devan handed me the keys. “This is yours.”
I blinked. “What?”
“The car. It’s yours.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Devan. I can’t… This is a hundred-thousand-dollar car. I can’t have it. What if I go home in three months?”
He put his hands on his hips, and I realized he was mirroring my own stance. “Then you go home in a car that has the highest safety rating of its kind, and my nephew will be safe from suffering the fate of his father.” I staggered back, like he’d punched me in the chest. He reached out, his face apologetic. “Nova, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
I wanted to run away, to hide in my room, but that was a child’s thing to do. I was an adult now, responsible for another human being, another life. And as much as it hurt, he wasn’t wrong. If my parents had been in this car when they’d crashed, instead of my mom’s fifteen-year-old Honda, they might still be alive.
But they hadn’t, and they weren’t. I wouldn’t begrudge Huey that safety because of my pride. I wouldn’t give Devan the satisfaction of telling him he was right, though.
Reaching out, I took the keys from his hand. “Thank you.”
I spun and walked back to the house, scooping the car seat up on the way past. I felt Devan’s eyes on me until I made it into the foyer, where I let out a shuddering breath. I took the stairs slowly and carefully, moving Huey into the crib, then grabbing the baby monitor.
Moving into the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes. I stood under the water and cried, until Huey’s tiny waking whimpers filtered in over my own. Wrapping myself in a towel, I dried my face and got on with my life, like a man I was just beginning to know hadn’t just reached inside my chest and ripped open my heart again.
I was sitting on the floor, watching Huey have tummy time—because that's what the books said he should be doing—when Rigby found me.
“Hey, Nova. Hey, little dude.” He smiled down at Huey, who was doing his best impression of a worm that had just accidentally been unearthed. “Can I come in?”
I lifted a hand, inviting him into the nursery. There was a big colorful rug on the floor, and Rigby casually flopped down onto it beside Huey.
“So, I think we might have a barbecue tonight, before fall really settles in and it's no fun to use the pool anymore. It's still really warm outside,” he said softly, and I shrugged. I still felt a bit raw from Devan this afternoon, but I was trying not to pout about it. Holding grudges wasn’t going to help me get through the next few months.
“Sounds nice.”
Rigby rolled onto his back and looked up at me. His body was long and strong, and it almost felt illegal for anyone to look that good. My eyes drifted to the small sliver of skin peeking out from just above his sweats, making me swallow harder than normal.
Not to mention the way his sweats bulged in a certain area. Nope. Was definitely not looking at that.
Why couldn’t Huey’s rich uncles be ugly as hell? Sweet, average-looking guys who didn’t make me question everything all the time. Not temptation on a stick. Or on a rug, as it would seem.
I looked down at my nails, like they were suddenly so interesting. I also ignored the low chuckle that echoed around the nursery.
“Nova?”
I sucked in a deep breath. “Mmm?”
“Devan told me what he said today. That was wrong of him.”
I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t. It hurt so much because he was right.”
Rigby growled softly, sitting up. “I’m going to hug you now.” That was all the warning I got before he dragged me across the rug and between his thighs, his arms wrapping around me until my head was tucked under his chin.
I breathed deeply, because I needed this. I shouldn’t, and it was probably giving him all sorts of wrong impressions. Well, right impressions, but not ones I could act upon.
His hand stroked up and down my spine. “Poking at someone's pain to make a point is wrong, Nova. Whether the underlying message is right or not doesn’t matter.” He rested his cheek on the top of my head. “Do you want to talk about them? Or the accident?”
I shook my head. It was too soon. I was still running from the pain.
“I’m here if you do. Or if you just need a hug. Devan says that touch is my love language, and those two surly fuckers needed it more than anyone I’d ever met. When we first met, they used to flinch whenever I even patted them on the back. They were so unused to anyone showing any kind of affection, let alone physical affection. Alana helped, but she was just as damaged as they were, maybe even worse. Her childhood was… traumatizing. There was a reason the guys were so protective of her their entire lives.” He snuggled into my hair, inhaling deeply.
