“You’re welcome. I needed an excuse to come see how this little one was doing. And to see how you’re doing,” he says, his eyes on me. “You sure you’re alright? I was so worried I did something to hurt you–”
I shake my head again, wiping the corner of my mouth with anapkin. “I promise, we’re fine. You did everything right. You don’t need to worry about me, Xander.”
He swallows hard, his eyes still on mine. “Yeah, I do.”
I blink at him several times, the quiet huskiness of his words short circuiting my brain.
Warning bells go off in my head. This is dangerous territory. My heart is not available. Like, ever again. He must know that, right? I internally shake my head; I’m being ridiculous now. He’s just being polite. As my neighbor. And my brother’s best friend.
Swallowing around another bite, I send up a silent prayer when Bea starts to fuss in his arms. Standing, I round the counter and take her from him.
“Umm, she’s probably hungry,” I whisper lamely, keeping my eyes lowered from his. “Thank you for the sandwich, and the flowers.”
“If you need anything?—”
“I know,” I whisper, raising my eyes to his as he backs away. “Thank you, Xander.”
He moves forward then, swiping his knuckle across Bea’s cheek once, and I squeeze my eyes shut when he drops a kiss to the top of my head, my nose stinging with tears.Oh shit. I need him to go. I need him to go so I can fortify these walls around my very fragile and hyper-emotional heart. That’s all this is. Clearly, my pregnancy hormones are on overdrive.
Besides, I have a promise to keep to myself, and to my kids.
“Teddy.”
I shake my head, stepping back. Whatever he’s going to say, I can’t hear it. Swallowing around the tightness in my throat and blinking back the tears, I whisper almost desperately, “I need to feed her, you should probably go…”
“Okay,” he murmurs softly, almost hesitantly, and then he disappears out the door.
When the door closes behind him, I let my head fall back tomy shoulders so I can blink up at the ceiling, sucking in deep, shuddering breaths.
My husband has only been dead for six months… I focus on remembering Logan’s sweet, kind face. How his coffee brown eyes would sparkle when he’d look at me, how loving and passionate he was when he’d make love to me…
But his face keeps getting further and further from my memory as time passes, that face that I had once known like the back of my own hand is now blurred. Like trying to focus on him through a fogged-up window, he always drifts away from me like tendrils of smoke. I keep his pictures up throughout the house, for me, and for Dalton and Penny. Dalton has a picture of Logan in a frame next to his bed, from the last baseball game Logan had made it to. Dalton had hit a homerun, his first, and we’d celebrated with a picture and ice cream after. Dalton was missing one front tooth, but his grin was wide and happy as he held up the homerun ball in his hand. Logan’s arm was draped over his shoulder, and the wide, proud smile on his face said all it needed to, of how much he loved his kids.
I sink into the corner of the couch and lay Bea down on her back just long enough to pull the sweatshirt over my head and toss it aside. Lowering one side of my tank top, I lift her back into my arms and guide her searching mouth to my breast. When she latches, I sigh, closing my eyes.
Opening my eyes, I find our wedding picture across the room where it sits on the TV stand. We were such babies, so young and carefree and without a single idea of what this world was about to bring our way. How little time we would actually have. Despite the ten years of marriage, our ridiculous naivete, and the sometimes-hard times, it hadn’t been enough. I wanted more time, and I hated the cruelty of fate that had taken that away. Taken him away from us. From Dalton, Penny, and Bea.
They would grow up without their dad. And I’m to blame.
Well, I blame myself; even if no one else does. A freakaccident, something no one could have predicted, or stopped. Just cruel fate.
Just like that cruel fate would dangle the gorgeous and infinitely kind Xander at me, knowing full well I’ll never take the bait. That harsh reminder of what I’ll never have again.
I’ll never date again,period.A vow I made the day we’d buried Logan. My kids had lost one dad; I wouldn’t subject them to ever having to lose another father figure. I won’t ever allow them to feel this heartbreak again. Even if it means I’ll be single until I’m old and withered and the loneliness in my soul has faded everything else into shades of gray. My kids would be my joy, my light. It would have to be enough. I’dmakeit be enough. I have to.
Fate didn’t bring Xander as my rescuer, Vi, I think to myself.Fatehas made sure Xander is out of reach entirely. By my own self-imposed law.
Because Xander is a career Sky Ridge Hotshot; a wildfire firefighter.
And I’ll never be with another man with a dangerous job.
THREE MONTHS LATER
Thrown in a fit of rage, the bottle of liquid gold—my hard earned, hand pumped breast milk—is tossed out of the car seat that’s hooked over my forearm by the tiny terror that is my three-month-old. I watch as it rolls beneath the running boards of my minivan and disappears out of sight.
Pinching my eyes shut, I take a deep, steadying breath in and then let it out just as slowly.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I can reach it,” Dalton says softly. Dropping to his hands and knees, he fishes it out from beneath the van from where it’s rolled behind the right rear tire. Thank heaven above, the safety top has stayed on, which means the bottle nipple is safe from dirt and grime. I don’t have to toss the whole bottle down the drain when we get inside.
