He nodded, the tenderness on his face kicking up her heart rate. “I’m serious.” His forehead rested against hers. “But… I do want to get into your pants.”
She laughed, breathless. “Next time, maybe.”
“Maybe?” He groaned.
She kissed him, sliding her arms around his neck and giving it all she had. In his arms, it was okay to let go. He’d seen her at her worst, sobbing and dripping and leaving wads of tissue all over his floor. Still, he loved her. And she loved him.
He broke away. “Want me to drive?”
She shook her head. “No.”
His smile faded.
“But if you want to show up in thirty minutes or so?”
“Twenty?” he asked, kissing her again. “Fifteen?”
She broke away. “Long enough for me to take a shower. Tame this.” She pointed at her red hair.
“Don’t tame it. I like it.” He opened his door and led her down the stairs. Owen’s dad was deployed, and his older brother was rarely home. For all intents and purposes, he lived on his own—and he kept the house immaculate. That had been a surprise. So had learning he took care of his elderly neighbor’s yard and her yappy little dog. Or that he’d learned how to work on cars because he didn’t have the money to pay someone to fix his. And, of course, his willingness to help her brother deal with everything he was dealing with. Then, last night. Not the cocky jock she’d pegged him for. But, until recently, she hadn’t given him the chance to prove otherwise. Why did she have to be so stubborn?
“You got this,” he said, so matter-of-factly she almost believed him.
With another kiss and wave, she climbed into Amber’s convertible and made the drive across town.
She parked in the garage and headed inside, hoping it wasn’t too bad. But there wasn’t a temper tantrum taking place. If anything, it was quiet. She found Aunt Charity sitting at the kitchen table flipping through a travel magazine with a massive blueberry muffin in front of her. “Morning.”
“Morning. Hungry? Your mom made some blueberry muffins.”
“Are they home?” She shook her head. “Is everything okay?”
“They’ve been home a while. I think they’re in the nursery.” Her brows rose. “Go see for yourself.”
Honor frowned. “Bad?”
“I’m not saying a thing.” She shooed her toward the door and turned back to the magazine she was reading.
Honor headed straight for the nursery, expecting to hear Jack any second. Finding Nick lying beside Jack, reading a book about a poky puppy, was the last thing she’d expected.
“Hi,” she said, leaning against the door.
“Hey,” Nick said. “Jack, say hi to Honor.”
“Hi,” Jack said, smiling.
Honor stared back and forth between the two of them, in shock. “What did you do?” she asked, dropping to the carpet beside the toddler. “How did you get this little guy to smile? And to stop crying?”
“I look like Dad.” His laugh was quick.
“Da,” Jack agreed, putting his hand on Nick’s arm.
Honor blinked, studying her brothers, her heart in her throat. Except for the eyes, Jack really was a younger version of Nick—and their father. Still, it couldn’t be easy for Nick, feeling the way he did about their dad. “You’re okay with that?”
“We’re good.” Nick nodded. “You’re interrupting the story.”
Jack patted the book, smiling at Nick with pure joy.
Honor stared at the two of them, a comfortable warmth flooding her chest. Maybe things would be okay. Weird, yes. No denying it. But maybe—eventually—okay. “Sorry.” She laughed. “I’m going to take a shower.” But they were already reading again.