Hush and hear my lullaby
Rest your head and close your eyes
Let me rock you into dreams
Baby, Baby, don’t you cry
Hush and hear my lullaby.”
Click smiled, quietly carrying the dishes to the sink while Tandy sang the lullaby again. He was humming, too, warmed by the love and safety those lines stirred within him. He’d have to remember it next time, in case Tandy wasn’t here to sing for Pearl.
He was still humming when he finished washing the skillet Tandy had used to cook their dinner. He wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and turned to find Tandy in the doorway, watching him.
“You have a nice voice,” she said.
“Not as nice as yours,” he argued, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Thanks for that. She seems more comfortable with you than she is with me.”
She shook her head. “You feel calmer when she’s with me.” She smiled. “Babies sense that.”
She was right. He was still uncertain with Pearl. Every day was a little easier, but being a father was hardly second nature. Yet. “I’m trying.”
“I know. She knows. It’s plain to see she loves you.”
“I love her,” he murmured. When or how it happened, he wasn’t sure. It could have been the first time she’d turned those big eyes on him and smiled. It could have been her giggle. Or the way she said Da da. Maybe it was the combination of all bits and pieces of the time they’d spent together. He loved his baby girl more than he’d imagined was possible. “Even if I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Tired?” she asked, her gaze lingering on his face—and his lips.
He stared at her, the feel of her lips still singeing his.
“You should get some sleep,” she said.
He arched a brow. She kept looking at him like that and he’d never get any sleep. “You going to bed?” It was probably for the best. His hunger for her was powerful. Kissing was one thing.
She stared at him, swallowing before she said, “Are we?”
Her voice was soft, but he heard the “we” easily enough. He blew out a slow breath, her words all too appealing. There was no denying he wanted her. But not yet. “Tandy—”
“To sleep. Next to you.” Her cheeks flamed red. “Just sleep. Or not. I... I can go to my room.” She all but ran from the kitchen.
Click stayed where he was, gripping the kitchen counter, staring at the empty doorway, telling himself over and over that he wouldn’t follow her. Today had changed things between them; he felt it deep down. But that didn’t mean he was going to hop in her bed and love her the way he’d spent so many damn nights thinking about.
He bit out a curse and turned off all the lights before heading to the bathroom. He paused, glancing at her door, then closed the bathroom door behind him. His evening routine was the same: shower, brush his teeth, tug on boxer shorts and head to the room he shared with Pearl. But once he was lying there, his brain refused to turn off. She was on the other side of the wall, wanting him at her side. To sleep. Nothing more. How the hell was he going to sleep? He rolled over, punched the pillow into shape then turned the other way. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. I’m a damn fool.
He peered into Pearl’s bed, pulling the blanket up, and stood.
He went into the kitchen, unplugged Pearl’s monitor and headed into Tandy’s room. She was reading, the bedside lamp on, but she didn’t say a word as he swept into her room and plugged in the monitor. He looked at her then, stunned by the smile on her face.
He shook his head, completely whipped.
She closed the book and set it on the bedside table, flipping back the blankets on his side of the bed in invitation.
He hesitated, torn between the right thing and giving her what she wanted. She patted the mattress once, and he caved. The sight of one creamy thigh had him biting back a groan. “What are you wearing?” he growled, sliding between the sheets and lying back against the pillows. His body was rock hard and throbbing. He was beginning to rethink this.
“Enough,” she said, sliding close enough to rest her head on his chest. “I like your boxers.”
He chuckled and turned off the light. “Wore them just for you,” he teased.
She sighed, burrowing closer, the silk of her hair draping across his shoulder. He closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around her. His hand rested on her hip, the edge of her lace-trimmed undies forcing him to move his hand up. But the feel of her satin-soft skin wasn’t much better. He flexed his hand, his body more than willing to take things further. She wriggled closer, fitting her curves tightly against him, before easing into sleep. He wouldn’t have it any other way. It was torture, but he’d suffer through it.