Page 2 of The Logic of Loyalty

“No.”

I don’t know if he hit his head. I can’t see him from this angle. What if he’s already inhaled water? I’m sprinting to the pool when I remember the tiny baby in my arms. Panic claws up my chest and into my throat. I can’t jump into water with this tiny life strapped to me, but … What about my baby?

“Jacob!”

I have to get to my boy. I must put the baby down safely, but I have to get to my boy.

When did this yard get so massive? How am I not there yet? The water is in sight, but my child is not. I scan the deep water for any sign of his tiny body and for a place along the side where I can safely leave Cassian. I’m running out of time to make an impossible decision when a man in a three-piece suit sprints past me and jumps into the pool ahead of me.

I slam to a stop at the edge and watch with my heart in my throat.

A combination of relief and anger surges through me at the sight of my son grinning ear to ear. Part of me wants to ground him for life, while the other part wants to burst into tears and hug him forever. He’s safe. Mostly satisfied with my son’s safety, my eyes drift back over to Josh, my employer, who, it seems, is now also somehow smiling, despite the obviously ruined suit.

Thank God.

I force a grin in return as they leave the pool. My Jacob has curly blond hair, just like me, though cut much shorter, and Josh Bright is all dark hair, dark eyes, and massive. Despite their opposing looks, their boyish energy is nearly identical.

Once Jacob is in reach, I wrap one arm protectively over his shoulder, and with my other hand, I squeeze Josh’s arm. “Josh, thank you so much for jumping in and saving him,” I tell him, true appreciation evident in my tone.

Jacob’s good humor quickly evaporates, and he grumbles about being all wet. I don’t even get to address this before Cassian starts fussing in his wrap. Damn. “Just a second, kiddo.” Cassian’s feeding alarm blares on my phone, so I bounce the crabby baby in his carrier, jostling my son. “Aren’t you the magic little time keeper?”

Jacob shrugs out of my hold, and I let him. Knowing my own child is safe means I can refocus on caring for this little one. I direct my son to the back entrance to the house, mentally checking off what I need to do now. Get Cassian’s bottle started, grab Jacob’s extra clothes⁠—

“I’d like to feed him.” I pause at the doorway and pivot back to the dripping wet young father. He gestures to the baby in my arms. “You can take care of yours.” He nods at Jacob.

Pointedly, I watch as his suit creates a puddle on the ground. He follows my gaze.

“Oh, hel-heck.” He grips the back of his neck. “I should dry off first.” Turning to Jacob, he says, “You wanna come with me to get a towel and some dry clothes, bud?”

I answer for him. “He has extra clothes in my car. I’m always ready for one disaster or another. I’ll get them while you get dried?”

“Sounds like a game plan.” He flashes his dimpled smile at me, then sloshes away. I give him a pass for being a first-time parent. I was far less prepared for mine.

Josh and Caroline Bright hired me when they first moved to Briar Ridge a few months ago. She was in her third trimester, and they were excited for their baby. Originally, I was meant to start in August when the baby was a few months old, but circumstances changed at Caroline’s job, prompting an earlier start. When I explained that I would likely need to bring my child to work with me, they were perfectly fine with it. Well, Josh said it would be fine. Interestingly, Caroline wasn’t a part of that conversation.

By the time Jacob is sorted, Cassian is nearly at his full meltdown. The pitiful baby mewls make my heart squeeze. Josh meets us in the entryway with a towel.

“Towel for Mr. Phelps.” Josh jokes.

Jacob grabs the towel from him and walks past without saying a word.

“Jacob,” I say sternly.

“What?” I give him the mom look. He sighs, then faces Josh more fully. “Sorry. Thank you, Mr. Bright.” Jacob looks back at me for my approval, and at my nod, he walks through the hall to the guest bathroom. Once he’s out of sight, I turn more fully to Josh. “Are you ready for yours?”

“Huh?” He shakes his head, then focuses on his yowling baby. “Oh. Yeah.” He holds out his arms. With a grateful sigh, I disentangle myself from the wrap and pass the inconsolable baby to him. I nearly give him instructions before I catch myself.

“I used the last breast milk bottle you have in there. Do you need help with the wrap?” I ask, watching him struggle.

He laughs. “Yeah. I don’t quite have the hang of this.” I laugh, too, and while he holds the baby, I wrap the fabric around him, explaining the steps as I go. Once I finish, I watch as he goes into the kitchen, keeping a critical eye on my wrap job. It looks secure.

A knock on the door pulls me from my observation. When I see who it is, a giant smile spreads across my face. My husband lightly raps his knuckles on the glass again as his steady blue eyes watch me from the other side. I can’t help rushing to greet him. I throw open the door and leap into Trevor’s solid, familiar warmth. Strong arms catch me, wrapping me in a comforting, soul-soothing hug. This is where I’m home.

Trevor

My wife looks at me, her eyes distant for a moment, but once they clear, her face transforms, softening. My heart stutters in my chest at the look. Perfection. She becomes untethered, flying through the door and leaping into my arms. I grip her by her thighs and hold tight while she squeezes me tighter. Jesus, I love this woman. From the moment she walked into my English class, I have been under her spell.

“Hey, baby,” I whisper into her hair.