Play Me (Take a Chance 3)

“Don’t say that,” she said, her voice raw.

“Say what?” When he turned back to her, his grin faded. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She frowned. “I lost a sister, Garrett. And a brother-in-law. I know what losing someone is like and I don’t even want to think about you dying. Or about your funeral.”

He realized how insensitive he’d been. He knew better than to joke about something like that to Kiersten. He dropped the wrench and hauled her to her feet and into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I bet Michael thought that, too,” she said, her voice sad. “But he died right after Katelyn was born.”

He flinched. “That’s not going to happen to us.”

“How do you know?” She pulled back and looked up at him with shining eyes. “How can you be so sure? If you died, I…I…God, I don’t know what I would do. I can’t even picture it.”

When she shuddered and laid her head on his shoulder, his arms flexed around her. “You won’t have to. I’m a lot harder to get rid of than that,” he said, tilting her face up to his with his finger under her chin. “Just look at me. I’m here, building a crib in your house, annoying you at ten-thirty at night.”

She laughed. He couldn’t help but get a small thrill when she didn’t immediately move away from him. “If I wanted to get rid of you, I would.”

That was the closest she had ever come to admitting she liked having him here. It might be a tiny victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. “Ready to finish this crib?”

She nodded and moved out of his arms. “Yep. Here’s the next piece.”

He took the wood, and they worked in companionable silence until the crib was complete. When they finished, they both stood back and looked at their handiwork. “Not too bad, huh?”

She nodded. “It looks good.”

He nudged her. “Are you sure? I can take it apart if you want.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You even think about it, and I’ll dropkick your ass all the way to your room.”

He held his hands up. “Okay. It stays.”

“Damn right it does.”

“See? We make a good team. Who needs a slip of paper when you’ve got this?” He threw an arm around her, and she snuggled in close. “Next, we’ll have to decide what color paint to use.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.” She scrunched up her nose. “Do we want to find out what it is ahead of time, or wait?”

“That’s up to you, I say.” He ran his hand over her belly, then let it drop. She didn’t tense up at his touch. “You’re carrying her. So you decide.”

“Hm.” She picked up an empty bag and threw it away. “I think I want it to be a surprise. It might be good for me to accept that I can’t control everything in my life.”

“Okay.” He blinked at her in surprise. She never wanted to be out of control. He would rather find out, but he’d meant what he said. It was her choice. “So yellow or green it is.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” She stole a peek at him, then yawned. “Yellow, I think. Really light.”

“That sounds nice,” he said. He made a mental note to remember that. “I bet she will like that.”

“Yeah

. He might.”

He grinned. “We’ll give the baby a complex already.”

“Might as well get a head start.” She yawned again. “And now I’m ready for bed.”

He scratched his head, his eyes on the newly assembled crib. It made the baby feel so more real to him. Funny, he’d been teasing her about that very sentiment a few weeks ago. Or had it only been days? Shit if he knew. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Garrett?” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, but didn’t look at him. Her eyes were on the crib, too.