Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(12)

Carefully, I cradled her, the sweet thing weighing next to nothing, her little hand coming up to fist in my shirt.

I kissed the top of her head before I whispered over the top of it. “Uh, like your kids and all, but I think I’ll opt for the Mercedes.”

He shook his head at me with a muted laugh. “Asshole.”

I shot him a smirk right as I was turning away, quick to climb to the second floor on the narrow set of stairs that led from the kitchen. At the landing, I headed straight for Sophie Marie’s room. All four walls were painted in pinks and princesses and unicorn magic, a mural depiction from one of the scenes in the children’s book Grace had written.

Pretty fucking awesome, if you asked me, the fact Grace had taken this book she’d used as an escape for her and her kids when they’d been going through the biggest challenge of their lives and turned it into something amazing and successful. You could find it on the shelves of just about every bookstore from here to L.A.

I edged farther inside, trying not to laugh out loud when I heard that tornado touching down again in the next room. Mallory was belting out a terrible pop song at the top of her lungs.

Thank God the walls were thick.

Or maybe Ian and Grace had put a little extra insulation on Mal-Pal’s. Seemed about right.

In some kind of miracle, Sophie only made a few grunting noises when I laid her on her toddler bed before she flopped over and sprawled out facedown.

Down for the count.

I quickly slipped out, leaving the door open a crack, and bounded back downstairs toward the kitchen.

Blinking as I went.

Fighting back the storm I felt gathering at the horizon of my mind.

Didn’t matter.

It grew thicker.

Darker.

More desperate.

Was taking everything I had not to bypass the kitchen and go bolting out the front door.

Drive the ten miles to her parents’ place, sure that was where I would find her.

Just as sure as her dad would be waiting to chase me off with a shotgun.

Didn’t matter that I was a cop, dude was likely to take me down, anyway.

I didn’t blame him for a second. I deserved his distrust.

I’d risk all of that to get one more look at her. Figure out if she was actually as worn down as it’d appeared.

Fix it, if I could. Wondering if she would let me. Knowing I didn’t deserve the chance.

I scrubbed both palms over my face, hoping it would break me out of the muddle of mayhem staging an assault in my mind.

Stepping into the kitchen, I found Ian trying to rip into the box without setting Collin down.

“Need a hand?” I offered, crossing to the island.

“Need about ten of them, apparently.”

“Poor bastard,” I mumbled, eyeing him with a glint in my eye. “Guess that’s what you get for telling your kid I was gonna die alone.”

He just laughed. “Don’t act like that’s not exactly where you’re headed. Don’t worry, man, I’d have been happy to die alone right along with you until I met Grace.”

Funny how my life was filled with all these amazing people and still was utterly lonely. My house was so vacant that sometimes I thought it might swallow me up.

Sometimes I thought Ian could see right into my mind because he frowned. “You know the house next door is for sale. You should think about moving back to Broadshire Rim. Would be awesome to have you nearby.”

“What, you need me close for all the spur-of-the moment diaper runs?”

“Hell, yeah. Like I told you earlier, you’re basically my favorite person.” He pointed at me. “Repeat that, and I will kill you.”

I laughed, brushed my fingers through my hair, and shifted around to lean my hip on the island. Changing the subject, I gestured my chin at him. “Mallory said you were about to crack. Something about being at your wit’s end. You good, man?”

“Almost got there when this little guy crapped again, and I realized there wasn’t a single diaper left in the house. Seriously, how many times can a kid this size poop a day? That shit’s just not normal.” He rocked him protectively against his chest, this little peanut wrapped up in his arms, wearing nothing but that towel.

“Pretty sure all that shit is normal.”

He chuckled again, the sound fading out as he gazed down at his little guy.

Everything inside me softened. Couldn’t help it. Was fucking happy for him. “Looks to me like you had it under control.”

He leaned against the counter, holding Collin closer, not even making a move for the diapers.

Guessed he was riding out the calm. The storm passed. Surprised that they’d all made it unscathed to the other side.

His voice quieted with something close to reverie. “Trying hard, man. Most of the time, I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing. So out of my element. I mean, a year and a half ago, would you have ever imagined this would be my life? And then Grace goes and trusts me to take care of all four kids . . . that kind of responsibility still sometimes scares the shit out of me.”

He blinked a bunch of times. “It’s like, sometimes I pause for one second, and that’s all it takes for every mistake I’ve made, every crime I’ve committed, to catch up to me. Then I’m standing there, wondering how this is my life. How it’s possible I could deserve it. Questioning if I really do. Terrified I’m going to fuck it up.” He looked up at me, his throat bobbing heavily when he swallowed. “And I can’t fuck it up, Mack. I can’t lose them.”