Chapter 17

seventeen

PAUL

Halfway through the night, my eyes shot open. Something had woken me out of a deep sleep. I listened for the sound of Amy's voice, but the house was as silent as it was when I'd gone to bed.

With a pounding heart, I slowly rolled over, confused by the amount of light in my bedroom. I'd left the door slightly ajar in case Amy needed me during the night, but the light from the landing shouldn't have been this bright.

A strangled scream tore from my throat.

Someone stood beside my bed.

"It's me," Amy whispered. "I can't sleep."

I caught my breath. "It's okay. I thought?—"

My bedroom door flew open, banging against the wall.

Liam stood in front of us with a gun in his hand. "Are you all right?"

Amy squealed and leapt into my bed, pulling the blankets over her head.

With my heart still pounding, I groaned. This wasn't the good night's sleep my body craved. "Put down the gun. We're okay. Amy came into my room and I got a fright, that's all."

Liam stepped closer to my bed. "I thought someone had broken into the house. Are you all right, Amy?"

She peeked over the top of the blankets and nodded. "I didn't mean to frighten Uncle Paul."

I kissed the top of her head. "I know you didn't, pumpkin. I was in a deep sleep and didn't hear you come into the room." I stared at Liam. With his sleep-tousled hair and a baggy T-shirt covering his broad chest, my blood pressure soared for entirely different reasons.

"Are they superhero pajama bottoms?" Amy said in awe.

Liam looked at his legs. "They are. I bought them at Disneyland a few years ago."

"I want some princess pajamas, but Uncle Paul can't find any. We had to buy unicorn ones instead. See." Amy pushed back the blankets and jumped out of bed, twirling in front of Liam. "I really like your pajamas."

Liam didn't look as though he knew what to say.

"We can go shopping after Christmas," I said to her as she jumped back into bed beside me. "The stores might have more pajamas by then."

Amy snuggled close. "Promise?"

"Promise." I made a big deal of tucking the blankets around her little body. I hoped Liam took the hint and went back to his room. There was only so much raw, testosterone-filled maleness I could handle in one night.

When he didn't move, I tried smiling, but it hurt too much. "We'll be okay."

He nodded, then looked at Amy. "Would you like another pillow?"

I followed his gaze and sighed. Amy had already fallen asleep—right in the middle of my pillow. "That would be great. There's one on the chair beside the dresser."

Liam picked it up and handed it to me. "Sleep tight. If you need anything, just yell."

"Thanks." After he left, I stared at the ceiling. Unless someone really did break into the house, there was no way I'd talk above a whisper. If I thought Liam's special agent persona was hard to ignore, the sleep-tousled variety was even worse.