One to Take (One to Hold 8)

Lane shakes his little towhead. “It was you, Daddy. Mommy’s not even here.”

I can’t help laughing, which I immediately regret.

“Oh, you know what?” Patrick’s voice is grave. “It was Aunt Mare Mare. Look.”

He points at me, and my eyes go wide. “Patrick!”

“What?” He laughs, those naughty hazel eyes sparkling.

“Mare Mare!” Lane jumps down and runs to me full speed.

I drop to a squat and hold out my arms to catch him, but he’s grown quite a bit in the few months since I’ve seen him. When he hits me, we both fall back on the floor laughing.

“You’re so strong!” I cry, rolling to the side and pushing up, my arms around Kenny’s little boy.

He’s on my lap, sticking his fingers into my hair. “Mare Mare! Your hair is gone!”

“What do you think?” I turn my head to the side, and he feathers his fingertips through the ends. “Like it?”

“You look like some lady…” His big blue eyes, the only physical trait he got from my best friend, are full of wonder.

“What lady?” I lean forward to scrub his cute little nose with mine.

“Some nice lady.”

That makes me laugh, and I haul him up as I stand, carrying him in my arms. “You’re almost too big for me to carry!” I cry.

“I am too big,” he says, very serious. “Lainey says so.”

“Hey, girl.” Patrick steps around to give me a hug. “You should be one of those James-Bond secret-agents. You are seriously rocking this new look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tease, wrinkling my nose. “I’m some nice lady.”

Before I move away, he pulls me close. “I’m sorry about what happened. I wish we could have been there for you.”

Pain echoes in my chest, and I blink down, fighting back a sudden rush of tears. “Thanks.” Clearing my throat, I shake my head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“No! It’s sweet. I mean, it’s very thoughtful. It’s… just still so fresh.”

His strong arm is around my shoulders, and I’m engulfed in a warm hug. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

Reaching up, I hold his arm, allowing myself to relax into his hug. I remember what Sylvia said about him as a little boy. “Thank you so much,” I say against his chest.

“If you need anything, just let me know.” He gives me a little pat before releasing me. As he does, his eyes rise over my head. “Hey! You made it.”

When I turn around, my chest squeezes as Stuart walks in the door. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a tan long-sleeved shirt, and his hair is messy. My fingers tingle with wanting to smooth it.

“Hey, bro,” Patrick holds out his hand, and Stuart clasps it. They even pull into a brief shoulder-hug.

My eyes blink wide at their greeting. Stuart and Patrick are notorious for bickering and not getting along. I can’t imagine what happened to change things… other than our recent experience.

Slayde is on his feet and in the kitchen clasping hands with Stuart. “I didn’t know you were driving in.”

“Patrick called this morning,” Stuart’s low voice goes straight to my core, and I turn to the bar, placing my hand on my stomach. It’s an unexpected response. I haven’t felt desire for anyone since the accident, but looking over my shoulder, my insides heat up fast when his smoky hazel eyes meet mine.

“Mariska,” he says with a little nod.