“We should sit down,” Simon suggested. He took Jayne’s hand and guided him to the couch, then made sure he was settled and comfortable before he sat beside him. “Do you want something? A coffee? A tea?”
“A fifth of whiskey.” Jayne dropped his head against the back of the couch. “And maybe an alprazolam.”
“A… a what?” Simon licked his lips nervously. “Can I find that in the medicine cabinet?”
Jayne laughed and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. “No, you can’t, but thank you. I think all I need to do now is just… calm the fuck down.”
Little by little, the Jayne Simon knew was returning. The scare was over and the situation had been dealt with—all that was left to do now was heal.
“I’m going to get you some water.” Simon stood, unable to keep sitting. His muscles itched for movement, and there was unrest inside of him that couldn’t be ignored. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Just sit here and relax.”
Jayne curled his legs beneath him, dropping to the side so he rested against the arm of the couch. “I’ve got the sitting part mastered. The relaxing part? Not sure that’s going to happen.”
“That’s… that’s okay.” Simon smiled even though Jayne wasn’t looking. At one point, he’d read an article about how the body could be tricked into believing that it was happy through the power of a smile, and even if it was pseudoscience at best, Simon figured it couldn’t hurt. “Just stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”
All Simon had intended to do was pass from the living room to the kitchen—a straight shot across the central hall. Instead, he came to a stop just beyond the living room doorway, his eyes fixed on a sight he would never forget. Harlow, who’d deflected Bastian’s attacks and taken control of a dangerous situation with cool composure, stood near the door. Parker rested on his chest, no longer shrieking, but cooing. Harlow whispered things to him, tender little words that Simon couldn’t quite make out. There was a smile on his face that was equal parts serene and proud, like Parker was his own son.
Harlow looked up from Parker when Simon entered the doorway. His smile brightened, as if having Simon there with him completed a void left open all too often.
“I took over for Shep,” Harlow explained. “He didn’t quite know what to do.”
Simon didn’t know how to reply. Every inch of him buzzed, enraptured by the sight of Harlow during such a precious moment. He’d make a tremendous father, wouldn’t he?Hadmade a tremendous father. Evie was his, even though she was grown. At one point, Harlow had held her the same way he now held Parker, had whispered similar things into her thin, downy hair.
“When he’s settled, I’m going to put him down for a nap,” Harlow continued. “Shep went to make sure the room was in order.”
“Great.” Simon was aware that he should keep moving, but he couldn’t. Harlow was more than an impressive body and a cheerful personality—he was a father, a caregiver, a guardian. Strong, but sensitive. Capable, but docile. When times got bad, would he treat Simon with as much kindness? Would he smooth his hand through Simon’s hair and whisper sweet things in his ear? “I… I, um…”
“Go take care of your brother.” Harlow nodded toward the living room. “Shep and I have got Parker under control, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Thanks.” Simon swallowed, but still, he found his mind blank. He had to look like an idiot, standing and staring, but he couldn’t help himself. “I’m just gonna… get some water…”
Heart aflutter, he slipped past Harlow and entered the kitchen. The buzz didn’t stop when they parted ways. It lingered with Simon as he plucked a glass from the cabinet and stuck with him as he turned on the tap. It remained as he filled the glass with water, and continued even after he’d shut the cabinet door. On his way back to the living room, Harlow and Parker were gone, but the sight of them refused to leave Simon’s mind.
A protector. A champion. A father.
What Simon wouldn’t do to have someone like that take care of him.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to be weak, so long as Harlow was there to look after him.
