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His eyes flashed.
The moment was broken when Mira started squirming, her face furrowing ominously.
“Uh-oh,” I muttered.
“Batten down the hatches,” Chris said.
And then she let out a mighty wail. I tried shushing and rocking, but she wasn’t having any of my soothing techniques. Chris took pity on me, walking over with a smile. I transferred her into his waiting arms and let out a slow breath.
Liam watched the crying baby with a slightly pinched expression.
Chris stopped next to him. “Care to see if you’ve got the touch?”
“Are you mad?” he asked. Then he glanced down at Mira. “What do you wantmeto do about it?”
Amie covered her smile with one hand and watched.
Liam studied the baby, then reached out to pat the top of her head. “There, there. You can stop now.”
Chris, somehow, swallowed his snort of laughter. Amie didn’t.
I rolled my eyes. “No wonder you’re single,” I muttered.
His eyes sharpened. “What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
There was no chance in hell I’d repeat it. It was like dangling a chunk of bloody chum over top of a shark. He’d snatch it down faster than I could blink, and I’d be the one left in the cross fire.
And more than anything, I hated the lingering feeling under my skin when he studied me just a little too closely. Because he was all quiet and broody and never actually used adult human words to explain whyhe was doing it. He’d just grunt or make this annoying low humming sound that could mean a million different things.
Yearsof dealing with Liam had never left me feeling any more comfortable in his presence.
Especially when he’d turned out to be so aggravatingly right.
We locked eyes as Chris handed the baby to Amie. She’d untied the front of her robe, smiling up at Chris when he draped a muslin blanket over Mira and tucked it behind Amie’s shoulder.
As soon as Mira latched on to Amie, the room fell quiet.
“Want us to go?” I asked.
Liam tucked his chin down toward his chest and rocked slightly on his heels.
Amie winced slightly at whatever Mira was doing under the blanket, then shook her head. “No, you can stay.”
“I need to be heading out,” Liam said. “Flight leaves for the game in about an hour.” Chris and Liam were teammates in Denver, had been for more than a decade.
Chris nodded. “Give ’em hell for me.”
“Fucking Kansas City,” Liam said. “I’m sick of them winning.”
Chris laughed.
The two men were so different. I’d thought it a million times. They both played defensive end, a position meant to intimidate and terrify quarterbacks everywhere. That meant their builds were almost identical—long legs, strong arms, big hands, a broad chest, and slim hips.
But that’s where the similarities ended.
For as big and intimidating as he was on the football field, Chris was warm and funny and kind. One of the most welcoming people I’d ever met. He had this tendency to adopt people into his life, maybe because he and Amie had been only children, both without parents now, and it was his way of building a family.
