15. Tammy

CHAPTER 15

TAMMY

"Tammy!" Baxter shouts my name, and I jerk at the panic in his voice, racing out of the kitchen and into the entryway.

I reach the reception desk and spot Baxter cradling my son like he's a precious porcelain vase. His large hand is cupping the back of Kai's head, and the worried look in his eyes makes my heat lurch.

"What happened?" I race across to them, catching Kai as he launches himself into my arms. "Oof."

"He hit the ice." Baxter runs a hand through his hair, looking as beat-up as Kai's face. "I was trying to teach him how to skate, and I should have stayed closer to him, but I thought he had his balance and then bam. Face crunch."

I brush Kai's hair back to check him out, giving him my sad smile as I take in his swollen lip and cheekbone. "Ouch, buddy. That ice really did a number on you."

"It hurts, Mommy." He lets out a hiccupping sob and rests his head against my shoulder.

"I know." Kissing his forehead, I rub his back and murmur, "Should we get you some ice?"

He jerks up to give me a horrified frown. "More ice?"

I can't help a soft laugh, which he is not impressed by. "Sorry. I mean like an ice pack. It might help with the bruising."

"I don't want it." His bottom lip sticks out, and then his chin bunches before he launches into a cry that looks to be breaking Baxter's heart.

"It's okay." I squeeze Baxter's forearm. "He's gonna be just fine."

"I'm so sorry. I was supposed to take care of him, and I… I…"

"You did a great job."

"What?" His voice breaks. "I did the worst job."

"No, you really didn't." Clutching my sobbing child against my chest, I pivot and walk into the kitchen, where Rachel is already waiting with an ice pack and some candy. With a little coaxing, we subdue Kai's tears, and he ends up falling asleep on my chest, the lollipop he's halfway through sticking to my shirt.

With a soft laugh, Rachel throws it out for me, and I carry Kai up to our room, settling him into bed and gently kissing his face.

His lip has already started to go down, but he'll have a nice little shiner on his face for a few days. Poor guy. I wonder if I'll ever be able to get him back on the ice. I was so touched that Baxter wanted to do that with him. Kai doesn't have many men in his life who will play sports with him. My dad's a book nerd and seems allergic to sweat. Hudson's dad has thrown a baseball with Kai a few times, but Hudson was more of a rock star than a jock… and now he's a businessman who doesn't get home before Kai goes to bed.

With a soft frown, I pad out of the room and go in search of Baxter.

I find him on the third floor, carefully painting a window frame with an unhappy scowl on his face. An old, familiar affection blooms within me. I've seen that look before. It's the one he wears when he's annoyed about something. And right now, I know he's super pissed with himself… even though he did nothing wrong.

"Hey." I capture his attention by waving my hand in his direction.

He jerks, pulling the pods from his ears and turning off his music. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping. I don't know how long he'll nap for, and it's going to screw up his night routine, but…" I shrug.

"Tammy." My name sounds raspy coming out of his mouth. "I'm so sorry."

He looks tortured, and it's breaking my heart.

Stepping into the room, I take the paintbrush out of his hand, dropping it in the can before capturing his wrists and turning him to face me. "You didn't do anything wrong. You took Kai skating, and he fell over. It happens. Kids fall all the time. It was an accident."

"But I was supposed to be taking care of him. It just happened so fast and?—"

"It always does. You can't catch them every time." I smile up at him, rubbing my thumb over the fine hairs on his arm and failing to ignore the strength I'm holding on to. He's pure muscle and power. I can only imagine what his body looks like under his T-shirt, but my stomach swirls with a wanton desire that's unnerving.

I swallow and focus on his face instead, and my heated yearning turns to something else. Affection scatters through me again, and I can't help smiling. I'm pretty sure I'll do anything to make him feel better right now.

So, I share a secret I've never dared to tell another soul… not even Hudson.

"I remember once, when Kai was about two… I was trying to bake in the kitchen, and he was tottering around, getting in my way. He wasn't trying to be naughty, but I was flustered and tripping over him. He was having a clingy day, and when I wouldn't pick him up, he went all quiet and sulky. Anyway, at one point, I pulled the pantry door open to grab something, and I flicked the door shut behind me—way too hard, because I was feeling frustrated—and heard this chilling scream." I close my eyes and shudder.

Baxter hisses. "You jammed his fingers in the door."

"Yep. Poor kid."

"Ouch." He winces.

"I felt so bad. It took me weeks to get over it, even though he didn't lose any fingers. I mean, they bruised up pretty good, but they didn't break, and they were back to normal before I knew it."

Baxter's shoulders relax on a sigh.

"My point is… kids heal fast, and they forgive even quicker."

"Thank God for that," he mutters.

I run my hands down to his fingers and squeeze them, loving how long and strong they are. "The trickiest part is going to be getting him back on the ice."

"He won't want to."

"Doesn't matter." I shake my head. "We have to make him or his little mind will turn what happened today into this big, terrifying thing, and it'll hold him back. Maybe next time I'll come with you, and we can do it together."

"Next time," Baxter whispers, his eyes starting to smile.

"Yeah, and sooner rather than later. Maybe we can go this weekend or something."

"My Mini Mites have a game this weekend if you want to come watch."

"Yeah, for sure. That'll be great. Kai can see kids falling over and getting back up again."

"There's definitely a lot of that." Baxter laughs, and I grin up at him, impulse taking over as I dive for his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Thank you," I whisper into his shirt. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

"Of course." His large hand lands on my back, rubbing a slow line from the base to my neck and back again.

I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling of him holding me. It's so secure and warm in this place. I splay my hand across his back and hold on a little tighter, wondering if I can just stay here forever and forget the world outside this paint-fumed room.

I'll take this toxic scent for a decade if I can just keep hugging Baxter like this.

He leans down, resting his chin on the top of my head, just the way he used to. And those gentle caresses up my spine somehow become something different.

I don't know how or when the shift happened, but I sense the heat before I fully recognize it. He's not doing anything differently; it's just my body responding in ways it never has before.

Well, it did once.

At that swimming hole.

A breath catches in my throat, and suddenly Baxter jolts, letting me go like my body is literally on fire.

Could he feel it too?

Can he sense the way I'm burning for him?

When he steps back from me, I sway on my feet, feeling his loss with a powerful ache I can't define.

"I should, uh… get back to it." He points at the window frame, and all I can do is nod.

I don't know what just happened, but my cheeks feel like an inferno as I head for the door. When I reach the frame, I spin back to… I don't even know… just watch him for a second.

His ear pods are back in, and he's concentrating on his job. I think he can tell I'm watching him, but he refuses to look.

I want to know what he's thinking, but maybe I don't.

Maybe he felt a charge between us too.

Maybe he didn't.

Or maybe he stepped back because he remembered that I'm married to Hudson.

Shit, I'm married to Hudson.

The thought sits ugly inside me for a second.

My cheating spouse. Are we still married?

I don't even know.

All I do know for sure is that every time Baxter pulls away from me, it hurts.

Gripping the frame, I want to ask him why he's doing it again. I want to demand that he tell me why he walked away from our friendship back in high school.

I wanted to save it. Why weren't you there when I desperately needed you? Why'd you tell me to go? Why'd you not tell me I was wrong that day?