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“I want to bring it to you,” he said, his voice low and rough, torn around the edges. A harsh laugh hurt his throat. “I don’t know how.”
Her whole body softened, and she turned into him, arms around his neck. He crushed her to him, burying his face in her neck. His lungs compressed, heavy and aching.
She stroked his nape, an easy, gentle sweep of her fingers.
His eyes burned.
Behind him, the piano stopped, final notes hanging in the air. Small footsteps sounded down the hall, and Zeb dashed through the kitchen, a giggle following moments later from Eva’s room.
Blinking hard, he lifted his head, eyes damp.
“I can’t right now.” His voice emerged as a harsh whisper.
She touched his chin. “I know.”
A shaky breath bled between his lips. He flattened his hands on her back, circling his fingertips.
“Eva, it’s your turn,” Eleanor called. Paper rustled, the piano bench moving with a slight screech on the hardwood.
Caitlin folded her palm along his jaw, stroking the edges of his hair at his ear. He pulled in an inhale.
“I don’t want to.” Without looking, he knew Eva’s bottom lip was out in a sulk. Caitlin shifted her gaze sideways, a hint of an affectionate, rueful smile curving her mouth.
“You have to.” Eleanor’s tone held more command than patience. “You want to get better—”
“No.”
His lashes fell, and he took one more breath and released it. Caitlin stepped free of his embrace, turning toward the living room, but he caught her arm and shook his head. “I got it.”
She held his gaze a moment before she nodded.
“What’s going on, Minnie?” He strode to the living room, clapping his palms together. Tossing a relieved, grateful look in his direction, Eleanor escaped down the hall to her room.
Clad in blue-striped pajamas and her snowflake-embossed slippers, Eva watched him from the end of the couch, small brows twisted in a scowl, and that stubborn set to her chin? He wanted to lay that at Cailtin’s door, but his Minnie was as determined as he was.
Her lower lip turned down. “I don’t want to practice tonight.”
“How about I practice first?” He nudged her toward the piano, then settled her on the bench next to him. After limbering up with a few chords, he rippled out the opening to “You Light Up My Life,” knowing Caitlin would hear, knowing she might call him lame but would still smile because he was playing for her and she knew it.
When he’d finished, he looked down at Eva, whose shoulders had relaxed while he played.
“Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to.” He plinked a couple of keys. “Like practicing for fifteen minutes tonight.”
She cut her eyes at him. “Will you sit with me?”
“I will.”
He slid sideways to give her access to the middle of the keyboard, and she started on chords then worked on the measures in her new song. When her time was up, with bedtime looming, she scrambled to her knees on the bench so her eyes were level with his.
She framed his face with her hands. “Will you read to me now?”
An arm braced on the side of the bench so she didn’t tumble sideways, he nodded. “I will. Go get us a book.”
Hands beneath her arms, he shifted her to the floor, and she raced to her room. He followed as far as the family room, sinking onto the couch there. In moments, she returned, the chapter book they’d been reading before he left for leadership training in Virginia clutched in both hands. She flung herself in his lap, a knee landing deadcenter of his abs and pushing the air out of him with an oof.
He tucked her under one arm and flipped through to find the chapter they’d finished before his stint at Quantico. Eleanor wandered up the hall, and her low voice blended with Caitlin’s in the kitchen as she turned her phone in for the night.
“Chapter six . . .” He held the book so Eva could see the pen-and-ink illustrations that dotted the pages. “Rosa crept through the creepy hallway, cobwebs blowing in the breeze.”
