Chapter Thirteen

“H oney, I’m home!” Scents of coffee and cinnamon bread attacked his nose the moment he walked in the front door.

Welcome greetings after a particularly chaotic Sunday shift of Memorial Day weekend.

The bright sun of the morning poured into the living area.

Perfect mornings like this tempted him to stay up as late as possible, to switch his body clock to sleep tonight.

Sitting on the couch, closest to the hearth, Odin opened his one eye up. Lying on a large pallet of blankets, the cat yawned, gave Reynolds an indifferent glare, and rolled on his back with his paws in the air, taking the form of a passed-out, inebriated college student.

No one was in the kitchen, but the scents of coffee and breakfast lingered. “Susan?”

“We’re in here.”

He followed her voice to her room.

Sitting in a rocker, Susan sported a messy twist on the top of her head. She wore a well-worn T-shirt and dark sleep shorts. Her long, shapely legs crossed as she cradled a very awake Audrey. A half-full bottle sat on the nightstand next to her.

With a tired smile, Susan simply said, “Good morning.”

The picturesque scene punched him right in the heart, and he struggled for words that wouldn’t make things complicated . “How’d it go?”

You look beautiful.

“She’s been up since three and will only sleep if she’s in my arms, so it’s been kind of a rough night.”

“I don’t know how you’d sleep with all that in your way.” He motioned to her bed.

A few large open binders with a neatly organized bin of highlighters sitting between them, two stacks of clinical nursing books, and several small piles of papers perpendicular to each other covered the neatly made bed. “I didn’t get as much done as I’d hoped, but I think I’ve got it all organized like I want.”

“Where did you sleep?” Reynolds peeled off his coat and tossed it into his room across the hall.

“I was too tired to put it all away, so I slept in the rocker.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I thought she’d sleep longer than she did.”

When Audrey’s hands came up, Susan gave the baby full access to her face. “But you didn’t, did you? No, you stayed up and fussed.”

“Sounds like a long night.” As mundane as the moment might appear to some, Reynolds would never tire of it.

Despite her doubts and exhausted smile, motherhood agreed with Susan.

“It wasn’t a total bust. We did discover she has a fondness for classic eighties tunes and loves Postmodern Jukebox.”

“Interesting. Any particular groups? Songs?” He stood behind the rocking chair, and Audrey immediately noticed him. “Good morning, beautiful.”

With wide-eyed wonder, she blinked at him, and his heart completely melted.

Susan yawned and pointed to her phone in the charging cradle. “So far, Hall and Oates, Lionel Richie, Pat Benatar, and PMJ’s rendition of ‘Juice’ by Lizzo. And Supertramp.”

“Of course, Supertramp. She has excellent taste.” Note to self, make playlists for possible late-night parenting issues.

“She does. Now if she would sleep in her bed, I could get some work done. Yes. I’m talking to you, sweet girl.”

“I can take over.” As he greedily reached for the baby, Susan motioned at his scrubs.

“Do you mind cleaning up first?”

“Good idea. Saw a few cases of strep and RSV tonight. Give me five and I’ll take over.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Susan stretched her arm overhead and arched her back. Her shirt lifted, revealing her curvy waist and smooth skin.

His mouth immediately went dry. Do. Not. Go. There.

With a quarter of their adoption journey completed, Reynolds promised himself he would not rush whatever their relationship was. “It wasn’t busy. Grabbed a few hours of sleep around two. I’ll nap later.”

Reynolds lied. It had been horribly busy. After ordering a cast for Ford, Reynolds treated a family of six for strep, a woman for chlamydia, three different patients for upper respiratory viruses, a man in his seventies for a head laceration, and a toddler who shoved a bean up his nose. “But I’m off four full days and you both are here.”

“That’s right. You’re off and I start my job in two days.” A melancholy smile replaced her exhaustion. “But we’re making it work.”

“We are. We don’t have to go anywhere today, right?” That idea sent adrenaline through him faster than a double espresso.

“Right. I start Tuesday, so today and tomorrow, I’m getting all my paperwork ready.” She motioned to her bed. “And maybe get some sleep.”

“Never a dull day.”

She snapped her fingers. “Doesn’t Lori visit today?”

“I’ll ask her.” He quickly texted his friend.

“Thank you.” She tried to get Audrey to take some more of her bottle, but the baby turned her head. “Well, that’s a no.”

“I’m glad to take over. Just… I’ll be right back. Man, it’s good to be home.” Home. The word meant so much more now.

Lost in how much his life changed in the past several weeks, he absentmindedly removed his shirt as he walked away.

“Yeah, home is… great.”

Her strained voice stopped him in his tracks. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught her heated gaze unapologetically roaming over him.

Damn. What he wouldn’t give for her to look at him like that every day.

In every room of this house.

Multiple times.

He held his top in front of his scrubs to hide his immediate reaction to her visual appreciation.

A few beats before their eyes met and her eyebrows hit her hairline. The classic response to being caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although, Reynolds could pretty much guarantee cookies were not on Susan’s mind.

She laid Audrey on her shoulder and gently rubbed the baby’s back. “I like your tattoo. I hadn’t seen it before.”

He patted his right shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I don’t remember it from the calendar.”

“They photoshopped it out. Licensing issues.”

Red-faced and flustered, she cleared her throat. “Take your time cleaning up. We’re not going anywhere.”

While in the shower, Reynolds replayed Susan’s heated gaze. That scented hair stuff she used always made his mouth water. He dreamed of burying his face in her hair as they shared his bed. Her bed. The table. The library and any other surface they wanted to try.

After he stroked himself to completion, his brain could focus on things other than naughty thoughts about Susan.

He threw on a wrinkled button-down and sweats before giving himself a pep talk to his reflection. “Don’t screw this up.”

Lori texted back that it was too early for him to be contacting her in any way, shape, or form, but she’d be over later today.

He followed the scents of fresh baked bread and cinnamon, then caught Susan mid-yawn as she filled her mug. “Coffee?”

“Sure. Let me take her.” Scooping a still-fussy Audrey up, Reynolds opened his shirt and placed the baby against his bare chest. Although it wasn’t his intention to seek Susan’s admiration, he appreciated her gawking.

Another great impression made.

Clearing her throat, Susan settled on to one of the chairs and stirred her brew. “I don’t know why she’s so inconsolable. She’s clean. I’ve burped her, rocked her, sang to her… are you kidding me right now?”

*

As soon their daughter got skin-to-skin, she snuggled in and cooed contently.

Reynolds beamed, his hand gently patting Audrey’s back. “You’re making me look so good right now, kiddo.”

“Well, that settles it. You are the baby whisperer.” It took a conscious effort to pull her eyes away from the endearing sight of him comforting Audrey. But her mind had other ideas.

Reynolds comforting me as I rested on his bare chest… sent Susan’s lower bits into a tingling frenzy.

She shifted in her chair while a scenario of her on top of him, staring down at that naked, perfect body, played on a continuous loop. “You are so good at this.”

“Nah, I’m who she wanted right now. She’ll change her mind in a few minutes.”

With lust ranging through her veins, Susan laughed, hoping it would give her cover. It became increasingly difficult to keep her hands to herself when he was around. The intensity of his visits to her dreams grew, but they’d been so busy, they hadn’t revisited their physical plans. She wasn’t sure where they were in their timeline.

Barely two months ago, her husband walked into her life and took out a gunman with a can of a popular side dish. His beautiful kindness only rivaled his fierceness for their new family, but after seeing him remove his shirt earlier, Reynolds shifted from beautiful to jaw-dropping amazing. How his body looked even better in person than in his calendar photo.

It seemed so very unfair… to everyone else who didn’t get to see him shirtless in person.

But I do. For seven weeks, she’d been good, kept her hands to herself, but getting a glimpse of what lay under those unironed shirts and dark blue scrubs sent sexual energy right down to the tips of her fingers.

She gripped the edge of her chair to keep her hands from reaching out and pulling him in to kiss his kissable mouth. This is so unfair.

How she managed to marry a great guy and have a baby, but hadn’t properly touched said guy, only emphasized that Susan always had her unique way of doing things.

My own stupid, rational, noncomplicated ways.

When he smiled, Susan realized he caught her staring. Patting the table in front of her, she acted as though she hadn’t noticed his panty-melting smirk. “Need anything?”

He cleared his throat, his hand tenderly patting a very content baby’s back. “Coffee and a couple of slices of whatever that bread is you made.”

“I’m not talented enough to create it. It’s that cinnamon bread Gabby makes. Toasted?”

“Sure.” Reynolds kept eye contact with Audrey while answering.

“You got it.” As she quickly worked, Reynolds spoke softly to the baby about his shift, the people he worked with, and how many he saw. It became apparent that his night had been far busier than he let on, and yet, he acted more chipper than a properly caffeinated Ted Lasso.

And was just as sexy.

Deciding not to call his bluff, Susan placed his food in front of him and settled in her chair directly across from him. “Shift went okay?

“Your sister’s been great about my schedule.” He took a quick bite of his toast and Audrey continued to find him fascinating.

And so did Susan for entirely different reasons.

Susan pulled her knees to her chest and hoped to look casually comfortable despite his ability to make her skin warm.

“You can go get some sleep if you want.” He tilted his head toward the door. “I’ve got her. Too awake from working to sleep. Lori said she’d be over this afternoon.”

“Great. Hopefully, she’ll have some news regarding the father.” Fatigue settled deep in her bones, but she didn’t want to leave. Watching him care for the baby made her ovaries quiver. Later they’d both catch a nap, and she could use one of her battery-operated friends to take the edge off.

Since her only conversations for the past few days were between her, Audrey, stacks of paperwork, and Odin, she needed to talk to another adult. “Let’s talk. Haven’t seen you much.”

“Anything in particular you want to talk about?” A slight pinkening to his cheeks while he spoke softly to Audrey.

The baby stared up at him as though he were the most amazing man in the world.

And he was because he sure stimulated Susan’s mind on illogically high levels. She couldn’t explain it, and after seven weeks, Susan simply didn’t want to. She wanted to know everything she could about him. “Will you tell me more about your sister, Audrey?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What was she like?”

His lips thinned. “I owe you that. We don’t talk about her as much as we probably should. Grandpa removed many of her pictures after she died. Said it hurt too much to see her face every day.” Even though he lovingly spoke of his sister, a hint of sorrow laced his words.

“How old were you and Nate?”

“When she died? I was in my third year of college. Nate, in his last year of high school.” He shifted to face Susan more fully. He let out a long breath as if he were digging deep into a well of sadness. “She’d been sick for so long. We knew it was coming, but we weren’t ready.”

“When you have a chronically sick family member recover so many times, you figure they will again. When it doesn’t happen, it’s such a shift.” More times than Susan could count, she’d been present in those situations. Heartbreak never quite covered it.

“It’s amazing she lived as long as she did. Great kid. Loved anything purple.”

Take note. “Did she have a favorite stuffed animal?”

“Yes, a purple dinosaur.”

“Of course. Dino?”

He patted his wonderfully toned shoulder. “The very one.”

“I never expected you to have a tattoo, much less of a cartoon dinosaur.”

“Nate has one, too. We got it for her, the day after…”

For whatever reason, a flash of Bernie’s clothing hit Susan’s brain. “Oh my gosh. Bernie’s shirt. That must have been so weird for you. Like a sign.”

“It was.” He kissed the top of Audrey’s head.

The corner of the baby’s mouth twitched into a smile.

Susan didn’t often believe in signs or divine intervention, but there were days when she struggled with the idea of something far too personal happening randomly for all the right reasons. “Did she have a favorite song? What else did she love? Games? Shows?”

Susan kept track of every answer, not only to better understand the sister behind the name, but if she came across anything Audrey would have loved, Susan could get it for the baby’s room.

Audrey continued to look around, still wide awake.

“I noticed your Dinosaur National Monument hoodie that first day.” He took a long pull from his coffee mug, and the perfect layering of cinnamon, butter, and coffee filled the kitchen.

“Got it when I was there.”

“What made you stop?”

“I’d never been. I had time, thought I’d spend the day before heading to Yellowstone.” Before I got the phone call verifying I could never have a baby. “Then I came here.”

“Our grandparents took us three there many times. We had to break up the visits because Audrey could only walk for a limited time. She’d get winded. We brought a wheelchair, but she refused to use it.”

“Kids want to feel like they belong with their peers. Don’t want to be seen as any different .” She hadn’t meant for her voice to fade with that last word.

So many of her classmates whispered how different she was after the car accident. Many wouldn’t even make eye contact as if she were some bad luck charm that would cause the deaths of their own parents.

“Susan?”

If I’d only known how messed up my insides were at the time, we could have gotten me straightened out. Maybe.

“Susan?”

She blinked a few times, realizing she allowed sad memories to pull her backward. “What? Sorry.”

“Where did you go just now?” He cocked his head, his hair in a perfect bedhead style.

“Nowhere.” She nibbled her toast, hoping it would alleviate the knot in her stomach that always formed when she gave in to sad memories.

He raised an eyebrow before taking a healthy drink of his coffee. “You sure?”

He’s way too observant. “Yep.”

Audrey sighed and slowly blinked as the morning sun brightened the kitchen and the sounds of kids playing outside hit Susan’s ears.

As much as the ease of their conversation comforted her, a full explanation of her history simply wouldn’t make it past her voice box. “It’s only a bad memory, Reynolds. Not worth discussing since it changes nothing.” Absolutely nothing.

He gave her an understanding nod. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me that sad backstory, I’ll be here.”

Once again, Dr. June surprised her with his compassion. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. Tell me more about your sweet Audrey.” Usually, Susan counted the minutes during the getting-to-know-you part of any relationship, but with Reynolds, it flowed as easily as breathing. “What else do you remember about her?”

“When she passed, nothing was quite the same.”

Susan scanned the kitchen. “Things rarely are after events like that. Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and I certainly had our fair share of change.”

“I’m guessing you mean the car accident.”

Working with her siblings, he probably heard plenty of stories. Plus, Lucy held visible scars from her near-fatal wounds. “Something like that.”

“It was something. Head-on collision. Drunk driver. Killed your father instantly. Caused your mom lifelong issues. Lucy almost died.”

“Sums up that bit of history.” Maybe fatigue lowered her guard, but the sadness of that day punched her right in the gut. Before she realized it, Susan pressed her fist against her breastbone while tears flowed freely down her face.

“Is that all of it?”

“What do you mean?” Susan quickly dried her face and let the hair clip out of her hair. She ran her fingers through it and attempted to pin it up again, but one of the springs popped loose. “Figures. It’s broken.”

“I mean, is that all of the story?”

“Yes.” All that’s worth sharing.

His forehead creased as if he didn’t quite believe her.

Audrey’s sneeze broke the concern.

He dabbed her face with a napkin. Then played a short game of peekaboo. “My mom, Celine, had a head for numbers. Forensic accountant. Had high-end clients. My dad, Clifton, was a middle school teacher. Taught history.”

As interesting as his story was, she worried he’d want tit-for-tat after this. “They sound like an accomplished couple.”

“They were and they were desperately in love with each other. Like Hollywood level into each other.”

“What happened?”

“Dad was more of the classic stay-at-home parent since Mom had long hours but made very good money. He took us to school, made sure we did our homework, and housework.”

“A gender role switch. Did it work?”

“It worked decently for a long time. Right after Audrey got her cystic fibrosis diagnosis, Mom earned this huge promotion. Then everything changed.” He kissed the top of the sleeping baby’s head. “She made so much, my father quit teaching and became her personal assistant. They spent all their time together.”

“That must have helped with taking better care of—” The slow shake of his head halted her comment.

“Mom hired a nanny when she and my father traveled for her job. It was a lot because they may have loved becoming parents, but when our cuteness wore off, day-to-day parenting was not their priority. Plus, they wanted someone else to watch Audrey.”

“Why’s that?” The weeks of crappy sleep patterns eased up her spine, sitting heavy on her shoulders. She fought laying her head on the table and closing her eyes.

“Because Audrey got sick. A lot. There were several different nurses hired over the years. The final woman wasn’t prepared to deal with it. She quit. I stepped in until someone else was supposed to replace her, but Mom never hired anyone else because I was doing such a good job .”

The numerous times she took over her mother’s care flooded Susan’s brain. She couldn’t imagine the pressure of caring for a younger sibling with a life-threatening illness. “That had to be exhausting for you to care for Nate and Audrey.”

“It was. I tried to make it work, but over several weeks—”

“Weeks? Oh, Reynolds. That’s too much for you to be responsible for.” She rested her forearms on the table. “What about school? Your life?”

Because I sure missed out on plenty making sure everyone else was covered.

His mouth thinned as sunbeams danced with the stained-glass dinosaur in the kitchen window, sending their rich colors on the edge of the kitchen table. “I called my grandparents. They picked us up. Nate and I each graduated high school from here. Audrey… died.”

“Did your parents ever come around?” As much as her father dying broke her heart, it certainly wasn’t by choice.

“Nope. When my grandparents called, they threatened to turn my mom and dad into CPS. Mom promised to send a monthly stipend and sign over custody because she wasn’t giving up her job and Dad wasn’t going to stop being with Mom.”

“My mom pretty much lived for my dad. When he died, she gave up parenting.” Her fists clenched in her lap. The anger of her mother falling deeper into depression was still a tender topic, as it left Susan to pick up everyone else’s pieces and sacrifice her own life. “No matter how much her children needed her, she wouldn’t even try.”

“Part of the custody agreement was my mom kept us on her insurance and paid for any co-pays or bills. That way my grandparents could focus on taking care of Audrey without the burden of payments.”

“At least that’s something. When did you talk to your parents last?” Susan opened and closed her fists before placing her hands on the table.

“I haven’t talked to them since Nate graduated high school.” Reynolds took a long drink of his coffee.

“High school? You haven’t seen your parents for over, what, fifteen years?”

“And I don’t need to. They made it clear how important we were when they abandoned us. When they decided parenting was too hard because they had a special needs child.” His usual lighthearted tone now contained a sharp edge.

A charged quiet settled in the room as the last scents of coffee and cinnamon drifted away.

“Thank you for telling me all that, Reynolds. It means a lot that you shared it with me.”

He gave her a sleepy smile, his busy night finally catching up with him. “It’s a sad backstory, Susan, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth telling.”

Damn him for making sense. “Why’s that?”

“Because it explains who we are. How we’ve made the choices to end up here. Like you, for instance.” He shifted his weight and Audrey continued to sleep.

Her body went stiff. “What about me?”

“It dawned on me that your three siblings went to medical school, and you went to nursing school. Why is that?”

“What do you mean?” Oh, please don’t go down this road.

“You’re disciplined enough. More than intelligent enough to go to med school.”

“You’re saying I’m too smart to be a nurse?”

“No way. Nurses are amazingly smart, but you didn’t even consider it?”

Ugh, why does he know me so well? “I went to nursing school because I’m the smartest and most practical of all my siblings.”

His slow smile built to an all-out grin. “I can believe that, but there’s more to that story, isn’t there?”

“Nope.” So much more.

“Susan?”

“I applied. I didn’t get in.” She lied and the look on his face told her he knew that.

He put his hand up in surrender. “That’s okay. You’re not in the mood.”

Oh, I’m in the mood. Holding her coffee mug, Susan took in the chiseled line of his jaw, the wave of his hair, the width of his shoulders.

Shoulders she could lean on at the end of a long day of work or when Audrey hadn’t slept or for… other things.

The overwhelming urge to throw him down on his kitchen table and climb on for an amazing ride lunged into the front of Susan’s mind.

Never had she wished so hard for a baby to be asleep and safely tucked in her crib.

What the hell, Susan? She’d never been this sexually stimulated by anyone. It was almost unnerving but thrilled every nerve in her body. One look at a shirtless Dr. June and Susan booked a one-way train ticket to Debaucheryville.

She needed to get some sleep before she did something stupid.

Like, kiss him again.

And she really wanted to kiss him again.

Everywhere. I can only imagine how good he’d taste.

A mischievous glimmer in his eyes indicated he might have a few interesting thoughts of his own. “What are you thinking?”

She rubbed the knots in her neck, hoping to come off as exhausted. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“I doubt that.” He arched his eyebrow.

His attention notched up her heart rate. “What do you mean?”

“After watching your incredible brain work, I doubt there is ever a minute of your day that nothing’s on your mind.”

“You seem pretty confident about that statement, sir.” This guy understood her better than all of her former fiancés combined. She swallowed hard at the possibility of them working out in the long run. So much could go wrong between now and adoption day.

“What I like about you is you’re always thinking about something.”

I constantly think about you naked. She sucked in the air, hoping those words didn’t slip out. When he didn’t change his expression, she relaxed. “I think always is a bit much.”

“What would you prefer?”

“Honestly, I’d like to sound more spontaneous versus predictable. Tired of being predictable.” She kicked her feet on a neighboring chair and crossed her legs at the ankles.

“Right after we met, you kissed me. There’s nothing predictable about that.”

He went there. “My apologies if it made you uneasy.” Her eyes betrayed her as they lingered on his mouth. The memory of how those lips felt against hers for that one impetuous, delicious moment played on repeat.

How he smiled at her after she pulled away.

How she still didn’t regret it.

“Susan. I’m sure, between the two of us, we can figure out a better word.”

“Yes, I’m sure we can.”