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The Secrets We Built Together

Page 22

by Piper Wylde

She nodded, her eyes lingering on mine for one moment more before she turned and hurried down the hall.

I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled slowly. What the hell was I doing? This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't come to Willowbrook for this. I came here to heal, to get my life back on track. Not to get lost in Blake's eyes or to care about a baby that had nothing to do with me.

Yet here I was, unable to walk away from either of them.

I glanced at myself in the mirror once more, noticing Trace's shirt fit a bit too snugly across my shoulders. I tugged at it uselessly before giving up and heading for the door. One more check on the baby, I told myself. One more quick look, and then I'd leave. I'd put this bizarre morning behind me and focus on what I came here to do.

But even as I made that promise to myself, I knew it was a lie. Whatever was happening here—whatever was building between Blake and me—wasn't something I could just walk away from.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Chapter 8

Blake

The house had fallen quiet hours ago. I knew this because I'd yet to fall asleep even though it was currently two in the morning. Delaney might have pulled off a miracle of finding Cade’s old travel crib, but Amelia hadn’t been in it for more than half an hour so far.

I looked down at little Amelia in my arms and sighed. Her eyes were wide open, studying my face with an intensity that seemed impossible for someone so tiny. I couldn't blame her for being fussy. She was stuck in a house with no one she knew. The poor girl probably wanted her mother.

Her mother just didn't want her.

I couldn't believe Madison would do something like this.

The shock of the situation was starting to wear off now and in its place was nothing but disbelief.

I should be angry. I should be hunting my sister down and demanding she explain herself.

But I knew I wouldn’t.

I'd latched onto the idea of giving Madison the day to change her mind and come back. Part of me was worried that I was really just giving her the day to get further away. Which in reality was probably exactly what she'd done.

I had no idea why I'd allowed it to happen.

Or at least not one I wanted to admit to myself.

I didn't want to admit to anyone the pit that had been left inside me at being abandoned by my family. I didn't want that for Amelia, and bringing Madison back here and making her live up to her responsibility would have only ended one way.

She'd have found a way to do this again. Only next time, I wouldn't be there for Amelia.

I wouldn't let her feel that dark hole inside her that threatened to suck any happiness out of your life if you looked at it for a second too long.

No.

Not again and especially not to her.

I'd make sure this little girl had nothing but loving people around her for the rest of her life.

I just had no idea how I was going to do that.

"Let's figure this out together, shall we?" I whispered, counting her tiny fingers one by one. Ten perfect little digits, each topped with the tiniest fingernails I'd ever seen. I gently unwrapped the handmade blanket Madison had left with her, a soft pink-colored thing with delicate stitching along the edges. It was actually beautiful—probably the only thoughtful thing Madison had done in this whole mess.

As I rewrapped Amelia, tucking the blanket carefully around her, my mind turned to Xander and the look on his face as he cradled Amelia against his shoulder. I blinked in surprise. I had no idea why my head had gone there, even if he did look smoking hot holding a tiny baby against what I now knew was his hard chest. I had no idea why he’d balked at my suggestion of himletting me sketch him. Not when he was hiding that beneath his shirt. I was only halfway joking when I'd suggested it. Making Xander uncomfortable had recently become my favorite hobby. He got this constipated look on his face when I started and then I counted in my head to see how long it took for him to run away. I'd yet to make it past twenty-six seconds.

Now that he'd come running to my rescue this morning, I should probably stop picking on him.

It had surprised me when he'd come and yet the moment he walked through the door I felt a sense of calm move over me.

Maybe it was because he was a doctor. He had that calm reassuring presence that made me feel like everything was okay.