She apologizes, her face flushed as she rocks him back and forth. “I’m really sorry. He’s tired. He doesn’t do well in new situations and has never been on a plane.”
I wave her off. “He’s fine. I wish I could help you.” Unfortunately, I can’t lift Danny. The one time he was on my lap, Ethan watched him like a hawk, and when he accidentally kneed me, he scooped him up and handed him to Jackson.
After an hour of crying, Harper gives Danny a pacifier, and he lays his head on her shoulder and falls asleep.
Reece unclenches his jaw and shoots her a side-eye from the other end of the white leather couch. “Why didn’t you do that sooner?”
“You’re supposed to wean off the pacifier by age four.” She lowers her tone to a soft whisper. “Daniel thinks it’s affecting his speech.”
Frustration forgotten, Reece leans closer and brushes his hand over Danny’s blond hair. “What did the pediatrician say?”
She hangs her head, her distant gaze fixed on the floor. “That he needs to see a specialist for an evaluation.”
“Okay.” He gives a curt nod. “Let’s find one and schedule an appointment.”
Jax and I share a glance, a silent understanding passing between us. They’ve been discussing security at the loft and the arena. If Reece is responsible for our family’s safety, we need to provide him withsomething, especially if he plans to help Harper and Danny. But knowing Reece, he won’t accept any financial compensation. We’ll have to spoil his sister and nephew instead.
We touch down in New York around nine in the evening. I’m achy, everything hurts, and although I managed a quick nap against Ethan’s shoulder, I’m exhausted.
The plane comes to a halt on the tarmac. I push myself up from the seat to prepare to deplane, and my legs become liquid beneath me. Tiny pinpricks of light explode across my field of vision, and the cabin tilts sideways.
Strong hands encircle my hips and guide me back to my seat. After a few seconds, my sight returns.
Ethan is crouched in front of me, his eyes clouded with worry, crow’s feet deepening at the corners. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I realize I’m clutching the hard curve of his biceps and force myself to relax my grip. “I think I stood up too fast.” The words scrape past my dry throat, my lungs working overtime, as if I’d sprinted up a flight of stairs. I let my head fall back onto the headrest and squeeze my eyes shut to stave off the lightheadedness.
“What else, angel? Are you dizzy? Weak? In pain?” Reece’s voice cuts in, sharp with concern.
“Yes to all the above. Everything hurts.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes me. “I’m pregnant and bone-tired.” I’ve beenin heels the past few days, my feet are swollen, and sleeping with three large men, even in a king-sized bed, is not exactly comfortable.
Ethan traces his thumb over my cheekbone. “Let’s get you home, baby girl. I’ll draw you a bath. It’s been a long week?—”
“It’s been a long fucking month,” Jax snarls, panic and guilt fueling his anger. “She needs to rest. She’s been through too much.”
“She will. She’ll be locked in the loft.”
Ethan’s words are flippant, but I doubt they’re a lie.
It’s Rocco who picks us up. It’s snowing and slippery, and Jax and Ethan lead me down the stairs as if I’m made of glass and might shatter at any moment.
Reece is between me and Harper, who’s struggling to carry Danny and his canvas tote stuffed with toy dinosaurs, art supplies, and snacks. She didn’t want to disturb him by passing him off to one of the guys.
But in only a thin jacket and a hoodie, the cold shocks him awake. He gasps, drops his pacifier, and then belts out a scream, flopping sideways. Rocco’s cheerful demeanor becomes murderous. I’ve never seen him so much as irritated before now. He rushes up the stairs just as Jackson, Ethan, and I hit the bottom, and Reece turns to help his sister.
“Give him to me.” Rocco lifts the crying child into his arms with ease then snatches the bag from Harper and tosses it over his other shoulder. “Do you have another soother?”
Harper stares wide-eyed at Ethan’s uncle before catching herself and nodding. She digs in a pocket of the tote and hands Danny—who appears just as stunned by Rocco’s salt-and-pepper beard—the pacifier.
Reece takes Harper’s elbow to steady her on the wet stairs, and Rocco glares at the touch as if personally offended.
“She’s my sister,” the Viking grumbles, “and she’s married.”
Rocco glances between the two, and his expression softens. You can’t mistake the resemblance. They share the same striking blue eyes and dirty-blond hair, though Harper’s features are less angular than Reece’s, her eyes more almond-shaped. She’s also a foot shorter.
“Let’s get in the car.” Ethan’s hand presses firmly on the small of my back. “Aurora is freezing.”
“I’m fine,” I insist, wanting to watch the show, but my teeth are chattering and my legs are wobbly.
