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I squeezed her hands in mine, then kissed her softly. I wanted her to be comfortable. I wanted her to feel safe. I wanted to ravage the everliving fuck out of her hot little body, but if it were anything like the last time, neither one of us could possibly keep quiet.
We got dressed slowly and reluctantly, but we still got dressed. Harper eventually ducked into her closet and came out with pillows and blankets. On the way back into the living room, she dropped them abruptly and slid her body against mine.
“Hey…” she whispered, nuzzling into my chest. “Preston, I’m sorry. I really am.”
I hugged her as tightly as I dared, then tilted her chin upward with the gentle guide of my fingers.
“Harper Hayes,” I sighed softly, “you might just be the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.”
Her skin flushed a slightly darker shade of pink. Staring into her eyes, my face broke into a smile.
“But I’m sort of getting used to the idea that I can’t have you.”
~ 18 ~
HARPER
“No!” I cried. “No no no no nooooo!”
The resulting chuckle was gleeful, almost even triumphant. But I was too far away. It was too late for me to do anything, but watch the horror unfold.
Looking me dead in the eye, Emma added a sinister smile as she dumped her Cheerios right over Brayden’s freshly-washed head. The milk slid down his shoulders, soaking his onesie front and back. For a moment, the little boy’s eyes went wide with shock. Then, joining his partner in crime, he began giggling right alongside Emma.
Damn.
I considered chastising the toddler, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. For one, Jax’s adopted daughter was just too damn cute. But more important that that, I was the idiot who gave her a full bowl of milk to begin with.
“Lesson learned,” I sighed.
I grabbed a fresh roll of paper towels and cleaned Brayden up first, then I got down on my hands and knees. Pulling out long sections of Brawny and ripping them off seemed to amuse them. Emma began clapping her hands, and the two babies began laughing even harder.
“You like that, huh?”
They squealed and clapped some more, so I made funny faces and exaggerated motions from the floor. Eventually I had the mess cleaned up. My knees popped loudly as I got up, and they began mimicking my resulting grunt.
“Oh yeah?” I taunted. “Well one day your little knees are gonna pop too.”
It had been a long night. I figured watching two children wouldn’t be that much more difficult than watching one. Instead, it was more than twice as hard. The little ones had obviously been around each other a lot. They worked together like partners in crime, taking off in opposite directions whenever I turned my head. They laughed like crazy as I chased them down on their shaky little legs, while moving from one mess to another.
We tried playing games, but they were interested for no more than ten seconds at a clip. I tried reading to them, but they only had so much interest. On Adrian’s suggestion, I cordoned off the little play mat area he’d set up using the interlocking baby gates he stored in the coat closet. But five minutes after I put them in there to play, Emma had scratched Brayden’s face.
It wasn’t intentional, but her sharp little baby nails left a tiny red line across the boy’s cheek. He cried for a few minutes, then snuggled me adorably for a few more. I couldn’t enjoy the moment though, because Emma hung off my leg, demanding the same kind of attention.
Washing my hands, I turned back to the two clapping babies in the high chair. Brayden was still soaked, his hair all matted with milk. Which really sucked, because I’d just bathed him.
“Lesson two,” I chided myself. “Bathe the kid after you give him a bath.”
He reached for me as I began unclipping his high chair, so Emma began reaching too. She was no longer laughing. In wriggling and struggling to free herself, her expression was one of growing panic and frustration.
In that moment, I caught a strange, familiar glimpse…
My God… she looks just like Jax!
She really did! Or at least, she looked like her biological father. Jax’s brother had been a few years older than us, so I hadn’t been around him much. Jason had been a three-letter athlete, and almost always at some kind of practice. He’d run in different circles, growing up.
KNOCK KNOCK.
I whirled in the direction of the front door, halfway through picking up the baby. Emma was still holding her little arms out, her tiny hands opening and closing.
