Colton pulls back to look at me, his gaze questioning. But my brother is an energy vampire, and I have nothing left to give at this moment. I let my forehead drop against Colt’s jaw. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think there was anything left for us to talk about.”
My brother huffs out a laugh, and I swear I can feel the judgment coming at me through the phone. Suddenly, I’m done. I have no more energy for this.
“Chris. I have to go. I don’t think there’s any reason to discuss this further. Mom and Dad are who they are. They’re not going to change. And you? We both know you want nothing to do with me, either. You made that very clear when I came to you for help two years ago. Goodbye.”
I hang up, cutting off his excuses, his blame. I let the hand holding my phone dangle as I lean on the solid strength of the man holding me. He slides the phone from my hand, tossing it to the couch, then wraps me up again. “Dance with me, baby.”
I smile tiredly. “There’s no music.”
“Already on it.” Within seconds, Van Morrison’s rich voice fills my apartment. Colt rocks with me, barely moving. We’re not really dancing, just hugging and swaying, and it’s perfect. Something about being with him just makes me feel lighter, like he’s lifting the weight of my disappointment in my family, their failures off of me, letting me breathe.
“We’re crap dancers,” I murmur.
“Yep. Doesn’t matter though,” he says with a playful grin. “I don’t need fancy moves. It’s just an excuse to hold you, feel you up a little.”
Laughing, I roll my eyes. How does he do that? With a few playful words, make the rest of the world disappear.
He turns me woodenly, making me giggle. “Tell me about the phone call?”
I scrunch up my face, showing him how much I do not want to talk about it. But I will. Because I let my brother get to me, and I want to talk it out with Colt. I already know he’s squarely on my side. I want him to tell me how awful they are, and that I did the right thing by shutting them down.
I open my mouth to dump it all on him, when the door swings open, revealing Ransom holding a crying Mia. Colt releases me and is across the room before I even register what’s happening.
“Aw princess, what’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for her.
“My tummy sore,” she wails, flopping against his chest dramatically.
I rub her back and press my lips to her forehead. Not scientific, but still time-tested and effective. She’s hot. I turn to Ransom, hovering beside me. “Tell me what happened?”
“Nothing,” he says, raking his hands through his hair, looking panicked. “We were looking for the two missing hamsters, and she was having fun. They’ve been eating the food we leave out, so they’re in there somewhere. Then all of a sudden she sat down in the middle of the floor and told me she didn’t feel good. I got to her right away, Evie. I made sure anything dangerous was put away. Did I do something wrong?”
I take my hand off Mia’s back, moving to rub Ransom’s arm soothingly. He seems to need comforting right now, just as much as Mia does. “I’m sure you did everything right. Kids are like that. They’ll ignore that they’re not feeling well, then wham, suddenly they’re down for the count. Thank you for bringing her to me.”
He nods, eyes not leaving Mia. He reaches out and touches her cheek. “Feel better Miss Mia.”
She breathes out a sad little “love you” to Ransom, and I watch his chest split right open in front of me. I know, in this moment, both these men would do anything,anything, to make her feel better. She — we — are so lucky to have them.
“I’ll send you an update later. I’m sure she’ll be ok.”
He leaves reluctantly, looking back at her until I close the door gently behind him. I meet Colt’s worried eyes. “Can you take her to the bathroom? Run a barely warm bath for her? I’ll get some medicine.”
When I get to the bathroom, Colt’s working at getting Mia’s clothes off. She’s not much help, fussing and telling him how yucky she feels, when between one word and the next she projectile vomits, covering herself and Colt. Her face is a mixture of disgust and relief. Colt’s face? Frozen in a look of horror. Then the gagging starts. “It’s ok princess, it’s o—,“ gag. “Let’s get you c—,” gag.
I’m ready to rush in to help when he scoops Mia up, still gagging, toes his shoes off, and steps into the tub fully clothed. Using his body, he blocks the shower head as he turns it on, slowly shifting until they’re in the spray.
“You feel better, princess? I bet you do. Sometimes, you just gotta blow chunks, huh?” As he’s talking, he’s gently washing away the vomit from Mia. Together, they get her shirt off and she sighs in relief when the cool water touches her chest. Colt cradles her in one arm, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging out of one arm, then moves her to the other. His shirt drops to the tub.
Mia takes a minute to trace the lines of his tattoos, mumbling to him tiredly about them. He’s completely focused on her as he gently soaps her body, making her smile with tiny tickles under her arms.
I thought I knew what love was. I thought my feelings for Colt were as big as they could get. I was wrong. Romantic love isn’t just butterflies, anticipation and attraction. It’s watching a brutal-looking man cradling your little girl, helping her feel better.
For her whole life out of the hospital, other than the months she spent in the foster home, I’ve been the one taking care of her. Every sore throat, every cough, every fever. It was all me. I’ve been alone, and never once did I wish I had someone there to help. I was too thrilled to be a mom. To be Mia’s mom.
Standing here, watching Colt in the shower, I’m stunned at how blind I’ve been. Though to be fair, with a rotation of short-lived nannies raising me, I didn’t have much of an example. But I’m seeing that beingin loveis this. Having someone there for you, loving who you love, being my rock, even if I’m capable of being that for myself. It’s being able to share the burden without worrying about what it might cost me.
I’m on emotional overload as I wrap Mia in a towel, but I stop to sip at Colton’s lips, swallowing his surprised gasp, conscious of Mia’s eyes on us. I know I made a big deal about not doing this in front of her, but I’m not ashamed of this, of showing him how much I love him. Of having my daughter see affection between two people who love each other. I didn’t see this growing up, and I can’t believe I’m better for it.
I take a moment to savor the desire on Colt’s face, and to admire the way the water runs down the granite slab of his chest, over his sexy stomach. He doesn’t have a visible eight-pack like a fitness model. He likes food too much for that, but they’re there, I know for a fact, under the warmth of his skin. He’s perfection.
