“Jaxi?”
I flinch at Boone’s voice. When I look up, I find them watching me.
“Do you like sprinkles?” Rosie asks, her little voice trailing into a yawn.
She rests her head on Boone’s side and looks at me with the sleepiest eyes. My heart squeezes as I imagine what this little girl has been through today, and she’s worried about me wanting sprinkles.
“I love them,” I say.
She nods, blinking her eyes in a futile attempt to stay awake. She’s asleep in five seconds.
Boone stills. “Now what?”
I laugh softly. “Let’s lay her down somewhere. The couch is fine.”
He stands and picks her up like she weighs the same as a feather. Her tiny legs dangle over his strong arms.
“Where are you going?” I ask as he walks by me.
“Let’s put her in my bed.”
“Is that safe?” I ask, curling my nose.
He looks at me over his shoulder. “That’s not nice.”
“Well, it might not be, but it’s warranted.” I follow him into the room I crawled into a few days ago. “You weren’t even surprised that a woman was in here. That doesn’t bode well for your sheets.”
With the gentlest movement, he lays Rosie in the middle of his enormous bed. She curls up on her side and doesn’t move again.
I walk to the corner where Rosie’s boxes are and grab her Glo Worm. Something tells me she’ll need this tonight.
Boone then covers her with a blanket from the chair by the door.
She looks like an angel curled up on his black pillows, her light-colored hair in stark contrast.
“I didn’t put her on the sheets,” he points out.
I make a face as if I’m grossed out and slip by him and into the hallway. He chuckles as he follows me.
“For the record,” he says as he closes the bedroom door behind him, “the sheets are fresh and clean. I changed them this morning.”
I pause in the foyer.
He stops in front of me and grins like the cat that ate the canary.
“What?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“No.”
He pouts. “Come on.”
I shake my head.
“I was hoping that I’d have you in my bed tonight,” he says, touching me on the nose with the tip of his finger. “And it looks like I was right. It’ll just be you and Rosie and not me. Funny how shit works.”
He leaves me with a wink and takes off toward the kitchen.
I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know if he’s joking about the sheets, or me, or any of it—or all of it. I just know that today has been the weirdest of days.
But it could be worse.
It has been worse.
And I’ll never go back to that place.
No matter what.
And I’ll make sure Rosie never knows that place exists, either. That little girl is the purest form of light, and I will do everything that I can to make sure she stays that way.
For Nettie.
For me.
Thirteen
Boone
Oof.
I sit up slowly. My muscles scream as I move them, protesting the fact that I slept on the couch last night. I’ve never been a couch sleeper. My mother was a stickler about sleeping in our beds when I was a child, and it’s something I’ve always done. The only time I sleep on the sofa is if I’m extremely hungover.
And if I have a woman and a child in my bed, apparently.
If the spare room with a bed wasn’t covered in things I should’ve thrown away months ago, I could’ve slept there.
I groan.
The night was long and quiet. Jaxi retreated into herself after Rosie went to sleep, sitting at the kitchen table with a notepad and pen. We all three had dinner together and turned on a movie about a mermaid, but Rosie fell asleep again, and Jaxi laid down with her.
I haven’t seen either one of them since.
The sun barely peeks over the horizon as I get my bearings. I stretch my arms overhead and slowly get to my feet. My body is heavy but so is my head.
Sleep was hard to find last night. I just kept thinking about so many things over and over again. Jaxi’s shock at the fact that her sister died. The trepidation in Rosie’s face as she realized she was going home with us. The feeling of her little hand on mine as she began to warm up to us.
And the fact that I’m thinking about this whole situation, our trio, as us.
I run my hands down my face and groan.
What have I gotten myself into?
I’m not prepared for this whole thing. I’m Boone Mason, the proverbial bachelor. I thrive on low expectations and no responsibility.
I can’t even pay my security bill, which led to this whole damn thing.
Still, I’m not mad about it. I didn’t go to bed or wake up this morning feeling like I fucked all the way up. If I had, I wouldn’t be so worried about this. It would feel normal. Not feeling that way only makes me more concerned for my well-being.