The Gravity of Us (Elements #4)(28)

My hands ran through my still damp hair. “Yeah, I took a quick shower and a quicker nap.”

She nodded and walked over to me. “Want to feed her?”

“I—no. She doesn’t…”

Lucy nodded me over to the glider chair. “Sit.” I started to protest, but she shook her head. “Now.”

I did as she told me, and when I sat, she placed the baby in my arms. The moment the exchange happened, Talon started to cry, and I tried to quickly give her back to Lucy, but she refused to take her.

“You’re not going to break her.”

“She doesn’t like it when I hold her. She’s not comfortable.”

“No, you’re not comfortable, but you can do this, Graham. Just breathe and calm your energy.”

I grimaced. “Your hippie weirdo side is showing.”

“And your fear is showing,” she countered. She bent down, placed Talon’s bottle in my hand, and helped me feed her. After a few moments, Talon began to drink and calm down, her tired eyes closing. “You’re not going to break her, Graham.”

I hated how she could read my mind without my permission. I was terrified that each touch from me would be the one that would end Talon. My father once told me everything I touched, I ruined, and I was certain that would be the case with my baby.

I could hardly even get her to take a bottle, let alone raise her.

Lucy’s hand was still wrapped around mine as she helped me feed Talon. Her touch was soft, gentle, and surprisingly welcoming to my unwelcoming soul.

“What’s your greatest hope?”

Confusion hit me at her question. “What does that mean?”

“What’s your greatest hope for life?” she asked again. “My mother used to always ask us girls that question when we were kids.”

“I…I don’t hope.”

Her lips turned down, but I ignored her disappointment in my reply. I wasn’t a man to hope; I was a man who simply existed.

When Talon was finished with her bottle, I handed her to Lucy, who burped her then laid her back in her crib. We both stood over the crib, staring down at the resting child, but the knot that had been in my stomach since Talon was born remained.

She twisted a bit with a tiny grumpy look on her face before she relaxed into a deeper rest. I wondered if she dreamed while her eyes were shut, and if someday she’d have a greatest hope.

“Wow,” Lucy said, a tiny smile on her lips. “She definitely has your frown.”

I chuckled, making her turn my way.

“I’m sorry, did you just…” She pointed a finger at me and poked me in the arm. “Did Graham Russell just laugh?”

“A lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again,” I said dryly, standing up straight.

“Oh, how I wish that it would.” Our eyes locked as we stood inches away from each other, no words finding either of us. Her blond hair was wild with tight curls, and it seemed to be her natural state; even at the funeral, her hair had been a mess.

A beautiful mess, somehow.

A loose curl fell over her left shoulder and I reached out to move it when I saw something caught in it. The closer my hand got to her, the more I noticed her tensing up. “Graham,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

I combed my fingers through her hair, and she shut her eyes, her nervousness plain to see. “Turn around,” I commanded her.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it,” I told her. She cocked an eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes before tossing in a “Please.” She did as I said, and I grimaced. “Lucille?” I whispered, leaning in closer to her, my mouth inches away from her ear.

“Yes, Graham Cracker?”

“There’s vomit all over your back.”

“What?!” she exclaimed, twisting around in circles, trying to view the back of her sundress, which was covered in Talon’s spit-up. “Oh my God,” she groaned.

“It’s in your hair, too.”

“Oh, fuck me backward.” She realized her words and covered her mouth. “Sorry, I mean, oh crap. I was just hoping to not go back into the real world covered in vomit.”

I almost laughed again. “You can use my shower, and I can loan you some clothes while I toss this into the washer.”

She smiled, something she did quite often. “Is that your sly way of asking me to stay to help with Talon for a few more hours?”

“No,” I said harshly, offended by her comment. “That’s ridiculous.”

Her grin dropped and she laughed. “I’m just kidding, Graham. Don’t take everything so seriously. Loosen up a little. But, yes, if it’s okay, I’d love to take you up on your offer. This is my lucky dress.”

“It can’t be that lucky if it has vomit on it. Your definition of luck is off.”

“Wow.” Lucy whistled, shaking her head. “Your charm is almost sickening,” she mocked.

“I didn’t mean it in…” My words died off, and even though she kept smiling, I saw the small tremble in her bottom lip. I’d offended her. Of course I’d offended her—not on purpose, but still, it had happened. I shifted around before standing taller. I should’ve said more, but no words came to mind.

“I think I’ll head home to wash it,” she said, her voice lowering as she reached for her purse.