Sylvie winked and shook her head at him. She headed to the twins’ bedroom, thinking how amazing it was that Heath was still sticking around. He’d become a big part of her life in only a few days. It was scary when she allowed herself to think about it.
Most every morning when she got up, she would find him at her door. He brought coffee from the cafe and a croissant or donuts. He would help her go through her morning routine of getting the boys ready to go to daycare or to stay with Momma. Or, he tried, anyway. He may not have actually been of much help, but he was good entertainment.
Heath attempted to do every task she gave him, but it didn’t take long for her to figure out that he had zero experience with taking care of little ones. It was obvious in the way that he held them as though they were pieces of fragile china every time she handed one of them to him.
He looked awkward and uncomfortable sitting with them in the rocking chair. The looks of fear when she asked him to do something on his own, like warm up a bottle or change a pukey onesie, were almost comedic. She hadn’t dared ask him to do anything as complicated as changing a diaper for fear she’d send him into a panic.
He hadn’t pressured her about their relationship. In fact, he hadn’t said anything about their relationship status. So far, everything had seemed pretty aboveboard other than a few chaste kisses on the cheek when he would head back to his hotel every evening.
She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed by his restraint. She didn’t know what to make of it. That he still wanted her was unquestionable. She’d sometimes catch him looking at her with sizzling expressions that left no doubt about his desire for her. Why he hadn’t acted on that desire kept her up at nights, tossing and turning, imagining all sorts of bizarre reasons.
Perhaps he was just doing what he’d said he’d do — getting to know her better. While they sat and cradled the babies and cooed them to sleep, they had quiet conversations about their lives. Sylvie didn’t hold back and was as open with him as she’d been with everyone her entire life, with one exception — the babies.
She hadn’t told Heath that he might be the father of her children. But he hadn’t asked about it, and she wasn’t going to volunteer anything. Perhaps he believed Sylvie’s mother when she pulled that embarrassing stunt at the cafe, that her children were fathered by another man.
She wished she knew what Heath thought about all this. And then she hoped she never did. It was frustrating and awkward. The whole situation had been out of character for her all along. And it seemed with each passing day, it only became worse.
Sylvie was an ostrich with her head in the sand, and there was no doubt this was a poor strategy for survival. Sooner or later, the predator of truth was going to bite her on the ass.
After putting Jadyn in his crib, she made her way quietly back out to the living room. She didn’t want to wake Quentyn if he had fallen asleep. That was when she heard Heath’s quiet words.
He was kneeling beside the baby swing. She crept closer trying to figure out what he was saying.
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word. I’m happy you’re finally asleep. I’m exhausted and the stare down you’ve been giving me all night was creeping me out.”
Sylvie stifled a laugh.
“How about this deal, kid?” he asked. “If you stay asleep for at least eight hours to give me and your mom some private adult time, I’ll give you a million dollars cash.”
Sylvie stepped into the room so he could see her. He smiled at her as she crept over to the swing and gently lifted the baby out, careful not to wake him. She saw the alarm on Heath’s face and gave him another wink. She was an expert.
Humming a wordless tune softly next to Quentyn’s ear, she moved back down the hallway and put him in the crib beside his brother. She leaned over and gave both of them a peck on the cheek and nuzzled their soft skin.
As soon as she was sure that both boys were out, she picked up the baby monitor and turned around. Heath stood in the doorway watching her. She couldn’t read his expression. He moved out of the way as she exited the room, and then he followed her into the living room.
They sat on the couch, both of them sighing as they sank into the comfortable cushions.
“You’re really great with them,” Heath said. “I really respect that. My mom wasn’t around when I was a kid, and even when she was, she never took care of me. She paid people to do that.”
Sylvie had wondered about Heath’s childhood. He didn’t ever talk about his parents. She knew he was an only child. She knew he had gone to boarding school, but she didn’t get the sense that he had any other family that he had been around in his youth.
It was an utterly foreign concept to Sylvie, the idea of not always having family around her. How strange. She’d grown up running around with Neesa and Phae. They’d constantly been getting in trouble with everyone all around them. There had always been family around and cousins to play with. She knew her own kids would have that experience too. That’s why she was so excited about Phae’s pregnancy.
“Well, thanks for saying I’m good with the twins,” Sylvie said. “It’s not like they come with an instruction manual.”
“Somebody should really write one of those,” he said with a light chuckle. “Of course, I never expected that I would need to read it.”
Sylvie frowned. “Didn’t you ever want kids?”
“No,” Heath said.
The word fell between them like a blackout curtain.
He said no, Sylvie thought. He didn’t want kids. Yet here he was with hers.
Heath gave her a steady look. “I have to be honest about it, even if I don’t want to say it. I never wanted children because I’m certain I’ll make a terrible father.”
Sylvie was taken aback. “Why would you think such a thing?”
“I’ve had no example,” he said, his voice too even, his opinion too detached while his eyes flashed a flicker of pain. “I know nothing about parenting because I might as well never have had any. I understand enough about human psychology, however, to know that people parent in similar fashion to how they, themselves, were parented. That could be me, and I would never wish that on any child.”
Sylvie’s heart ached. How unfair that Heath should not only have to live with the pain of his parents’ neglect, but he also had to carry the burden of their poor legacy.
“Many adults had difficult upbringings,” Sylvie said, “and they went on to be great parents because they knew exactly what they didn’t want to do or be.”
Heath gave a slight nod of agreement. “True, but I’ve read about this, and those kind of people are the exceptions, not the rule.”
“Where did you read that?”
“Psychology journals, books, magazines, the usual,” Heath said.
Sylvie realized her eyes were starting to burn a bit. Tears. She fought them back, knowing instinctively that Heath wouldn’t appreciate them.
If her heart was aching before, it was close to breaking now. Obviously, if he’d done so much reading on the topic, this must be a gigantic concern in his life. She wondered how long he’d been researching it, how much he’d hoped for good news only to re
ceive more of the bad.
Sylvie ticked off a mental check in her head: one more mark against science. It wasn’t that Sylvie was categorically opposed to science, it was just that she thought people should keep their options open. It was a big wide universe out there, and not all of it could be probed and measured, made to line up neatly on a graph.
“Bullshit,” she said.
Heath jerked backward. “Uh, what?”
“I call bullshit on science,” she said, enjoying the way the word rolled off her tongue.
He barked out a laugh. “You can’t call bullshit on that.”
“Sure I can. I just did.” She leveled a stare at him. “Listen, Heath. I haven’t known you long, but I know without a doubt that you’ll make a great father. I’m not saying you won’t make mistakes; we all do. I’ve already made so many that it’s embarrassing.”
“Such as?”
Such as not finding out who my children’s father is, she thought.
“Never mind that right now,” she said. “Here’s the thing. You’ve already given me the best proof that I’ll ever need.”
“And that is …?”
“You’ll be a great father because you’re afraid you won’t be. Get it? You care, and that’s most of the battle right there.”
Heath leaned in toward her, a glint in his bright green eyes, his dark hair shining in the light. “I want to kiss you right now.”
She wanted to kiss him, too, so badly. But instead of doing it, she said, “Well, I guess you should probably get out of here soon. You can’t keep hanging around Zeke’s Bend forever. You said you run your own company, so your employees probably need you and stuff.”
Heath looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. He was probably right.
But she couldn’t help it. He said he wanted to kiss her and she’d gone all silly inside.
And the silly wasn’t going away. “I’m sure somebody is going to come looking for you soon,” she babbled. “Probably better check up on them and so on.”
Sylvie didn’t know why she was saying these things. It wasn’t like she wanted Heath to leave.