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“Keep up the good work, little mama,” he says, shifting his warm gaze to me with eyes I want to drown in. “You let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
I nod, and he leans down to kiss my cheek.
On impulse, I turn into his kiss, grazing his lips with mine.
He stills. “Little Miss,” he rumbles softly.
Weakened by a yearning for contact, I rub my cheek against his beard, asking for just a little more of his touch.
Then I freeze.
Dad’s calling my name from next door, and he’s getting louder and louder, as if he’s been looking for me for a while.
12
GUNNAR
Jem ducks away from me so fast, I back up in a hurry. I’ve overstepped the tentative welcome she laid out so beautifully for me.
She tugs her borrowed T-shirt down over her bared breasts and eases Viv from her suckling, to cover herself more fully. The baby goes over her shoulder, and Jem pats her back, while rising from the chair and looking around as if she needs something.
Her gaze stops on me. “I need to head next door for a few minutes. Would you mind holding Viv?” She’s already handing over our little squawker, who is not a happy camper about losing her warm, milky nest so suddenly.
I rest Viv’s little body against my shoulder and bounce a little, as I soothe and burp her. “Who lives next door?” I ask, annoyed that it comes out sharply enough for Jem to shoot me an irritable glare.
“Why do you need to know?” she asks.
I glare right back. “If some guy is yelling for the mother of my child like she’s a fucking dog who needs to get home, you can bet your ass I want to know about it,” I say without hesitation. “Who is he?”
“My father,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll be back in a second.”
“Your dad?” I start to follow.
She spins back to face me once we’re out the door. “You asked if you could do something, and I’m asking you to stay here and hold Viv,” she says, before calling over the fence that she’ll be there in a minute.
She heads back inside, pushing past me on her way into the kitchen. Her eyes are slightly panicked, as she searches for something, and then her gaze lingers on the lasagna I made. She looks at me, and brings out a plate, cutlery, and a cake slicer she uses to divide and scoop out a section of the meal I lovingly prepared for her. “Thanks for making this. It really did make my life easier today,” she says, before she heads out the door with the dinner plate.
“You have to feed him?” I ask, following her out.
“If I want him to eat,” she mumbles, not turning back. “It’s complicated. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she says with a frown when I stay on her heels.
“Don’t you think I should meet him?” I ask, pausing only briefly.
“Absolutely not.” She whirls around and hits me with a forceful gaze. “He’s not well, and your presence won’t be appreciated.”
“Well, he’ll have to meet me sometime.”
“Why?Whywould he need to?”
I narrow my eyes. “Because I’m his grandkid’s dad.”
She squeezes her eyes shut in a wince. “He’s too fragile to be a father, let alone a grandfather. Leave it be.”
“His lungs sounded plenty sturdy to me,” I mutter. “Probably where Viv gets it.”
Jem shakes her head. “Just mind your own business, Gunnar. I haven’t gone to your sister’s house, to introduce myself.”
“But she’d like you to,” I say with a shrug. “She actually asked if I would bring you to dinner one Sunday, but I—”
