There. That should appease his father that he was trying to make nice with the enemy—aka, his future stepsiblings.
“Can do,” Trystan answered, his tone clipped. “And Steele? One last thing.”
Broderick started up the steps, his eyes locked on Glenna. She stood at the floor-to-towering-ceiling window wall. “What would that be?”
“Hurt my sister and I will kick your ass clear to Canada.”
The phone line disconnected.
Broderick dropped a suitcase and caught the cell as it slipped from under his chin. He studied the screen and saw the connection was fine, plenty of signal. Trystan had hung up on him. Plain and simple.
But the message had been clear enough, and oddly, for once, Broderick found himself commiserating with a Mikkelson. As a man. As a brother. Because if anyone hurt one of his sisters, Broderick would hunt the bastard down and pummel him personally.
His gaze trekked right back to the window and the woman who tugged at him in a way no other ever had.
With all that was going on in their families, he would have to tread very, very carefully.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Needing to collect her thoughts, Glenna sat on her bed, while Kota patiently settled at the door, head cocked to the side.
All her clothes had been neatly unpacked, hung in the closet or tucked away in drawers. Throughout dinner, she’d been the one to take care of baby Fleur. Not that she minded, but it concerned her. If the child was not Gage’s… If the child was indeed Broderick’s, then his avoidance was worrisome.
Perhaps he needed more time. Or perhaps she’d found the one area in his life where he didn’t have a skill set and bravado.
She walked out of her room and into the main living area, the scent of pine furniture and floors cleaned with lemony oil filling the air. Broderick sat on the couch, eyeing Fleur in the baby swing. He seemed wistful, eyes warm, but he made no move toward the child.
Kota made laps around the baby swing, tail wagging. Protective. Eventually the dog curled on the dark brown throw rug in front of the hearth. They looked like a still life from a family vacation promotion.
Glenna scooped up Fleur, looked intently at her little face, again hoping a distinct feature would manifest and hint at her father.
Instead, she met Fleur’s fluttering eyes, felt a connection to the infant and her innocence. Baby cradled in her arms, Glenna walked to the bedroom and put her down for the night. After turning on the monitor, she returned to the living area, fully taking in Broderick for the first time since supper.
Dressed comfortably as he was in navy jogging pants and a long-sleeved gray T-shirt, his muscles were on display. His dark hair slightly askew, he looked up at her.
The baby monitor hummed in her hand, giving her a sense of peace.
He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the French doors leading out to the deck. “I’m going to the hot tub. And that isn’t a come-on line.”
Hot tub?
Her body tingled with awareness at the suggestion. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a nonchalant air she was far from feeling. “Glad to know you’re not hitting on me, because if that’s the best game you’ve got, you need help.”
A masculine, throaty laugh rolled free. “I’ll save my good game for later.” He winked. “For tonight, after the stress of our parents’ engagement and a surprise baby bundle, I could use some relief. I’m hoping to catch the northern lights. I never grow tired of seeing them stream across the sky and we’re almost out of season. If you wish to join me, there are always extra swimsuits of all sizes in the changing rooms.”
She studied him, wondering, assessing, and realized… “That’s a dare, isn’t it? To test your non-come-on line?”
“I’m simply stating where I’m going and inviting you to join me.” He winked again. “If you dare.”
How much did she trust him? Hell, how much did she trust herself?
But then ignoring him sure hadn’t worked out all that well for her, given how much he occupied her dreams at night. “Fair enough. I’ll bring the nursery monitor and join you once I choose the most boring swimsuit in the collection.”
“I can’t wait.” His chuckle rumbled over his shoulder and hung in the air long after he stepped outside.
Once in the changing room, she thumbed through the neat stacks, her fingers lingering on an array of swimsuits stockpiled in the drawer until… There. She found it. The perfect boring suit in her exact size: a solid navy blue one-piece. Nothing would set the “hands off” tone quite like that. But a rush of impulse made her reach back into the drawer to a skimpy black string bikini.
She slid out of her clothes and into the bikini, then stared at her reflection in the mirror. Feeling confident and ready. Removing the hair tie from her wrist, she piled her strawberry-blond hair on top of her head—ready.