Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Thank you.”
He unpacked the bag, sliding the soup and sandwich in front of me. He opened his, stirring the soup with his spoon.
“Would you rather I ate elsewhere?” he asked.
“No, it’s your home, Julian.”
He hesitated, then spoke. “I want it to be yours again too.”
I sighed, gearing up for another fight. But he pushed my soup closer. “Later, we’ll talk. You need to eat and rest.”
I’d just picked up my spoon when I heard Julianna cry. Julian was on his feet before I could move. “I’ll get her. You eat.”
He disappeared, and I dipped my spoon into the steaming bowl, savoring the flavor of the rich and creamy soup. I ate, waiting patiently, wondering what he was doing with the baby. Julian called my name, and I hurried down the hall, stopping in the doorway and trying not to laugh. He had her on the changing table, one hand on her stomach as she squirmed, the other hand holding a misshapen diaper, the tabs torn. He looked at me, slightly panicked.
“I have no idea how to put a fresh diaper on her. She keeps moving and wriggling and flailing her arms. I’ve ripped two of these things. I don’t think she likes me.”
I tried not to smile at the expression on his face. I crossed the room, pushing him out of the way. “She hates getting her bum changed. You have to do it fast.” I showed him how to slip the diaper under her and fasten the tabs, his intense concentration on the simple task amusing. I tsked at the slight rash on her skin, getting out the cream and putting some on the red marks.
“Is she sick?” he asked.
“No, just reacting. Her urine is a bit strong right now. It’ll settle.”
I quickly snapped her onesie back into place and wrapped her in a blanket. I turned and held her out. “And she likes you just fine. She’s being a baby, Julian. Babies fuss.”
He took her, cradling her carefully. “Okay. I thought maybe she was mad at me about acting like an asshole yesterday.”
I blinked. “Babies don’t ‘get mad.’ She reacts to the tension I carry, yes. But she doesn’t think you’re an asshole. She doesn’t know what that is. And you shouldn’t say asshole in front of her.”
He grinned. “You just did—twice.”
I had to laugh. He had me there.
“I’m going to finish my soup.” I walked past him, taking in a deep breath. “Are you coming?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
The rest of the day seemed surreal. The groceries arrived, and he helped put them away. A package came in the late afternoon containing some baby books, and he read one, the book open on his lap, holding Julianna, once again getting the look of intensity on his face.
“Go have a nap,” he offered when I yawned. “I have our girl,” he added almost absently, as if it was something he said often.
I headed down the hall, glancing over my shoulder. He was watching me. I felt his stare down to my bones. He had always affected me when he focused his gaze on me, his brilliant-colored eyes darker than usual, the concentration on his face etched into his profile. My breathing picked up not only at his stare but how natural he looked, holding our daughter, cradling her close, his large hand supporting her head. I had noticed him grimace a couple of times when he lifted her, and I wondered if it was from his injury, but I refrained from asking, not wanting to bring up the past yet. He wasn’t complaining, so I left it alone. He dropped his gaze, murmuring something to her, and I entered the room and lay on the bed, confused, annoyed, but oddly content. The image of them together drifted through my head as I fell asleep, somehow knowing she was safe with him.
And right now, so was I.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Julian
It was an odd day. Filled with moments of levity and humor. Flashes of anger that I tried to tamp down. The hour I spent with Dr. Easton helped. If she was shocked by the news I imparted about Tally and Julianna, she hid it well. She let me vent, offered some suggestions, then told me to go home and try to be a decent human being. And that she would see me in a couple of days.
I was concerned about how exhausted Tally seemed to be, and I blamed myself for a great deal of it. I got her to lie down for a while as I sat on the sofa, reading with Julianna on my lap. Or trying to read. I found her far more fascinating than the book. Every blink, every coo or noise was new and different. She hated having her hands inside the blanket, and I loved how she clutched my finger when I would free one. Our identical eyes would lock, and I wondered if somehow she recognized me. I had never thought of my eyes as beautiful until I saw them in my daughter’s face. Now I understood what Tally saw when she looked at me. Or, what she used to see.