Under the Stars

“Oh, Jilly!” My eyes heat, and I kiss the side of her head repeatedly, inhaling her baby-powder scent. “My little sweet potato. Did you miss Mommy? Mommy missed you so much!”

She makes a noise and scrubs her face against my shoulder. She presses her head against me, and I hug her close, swaying gently as I hold her little body, kissing her over and over. She fills me with so much calm a

nd joy.

“I know I’m a step above chopped liver these days, but I’m glad to see you, too,” Roland says, a wry smile curling his lips.

“I’m glad you’re here.” I step forward to kiss his cheek.

“Are you?” A dark brow cocks. “I was afraid you’d be livid with me for all of this.”

“I thought I would, too,” I say in a soft baby-voice, rubbing my nose against Jillian’s skin. “But I’m so happy to see my sweet girl.”

She coos, and the warmth at my back tells me Mark has joined us. His hands cover my shoulders, and I lean my back against his chest as he circles us in his arms.

“She really is a beauty,” he says at my ear, and she perks up at the sound of him. She smiles and blinks, and he takes her out of my arms. “She’s daddy’s girl,” he says, and Jilly leans her head against his bare chest, a chubby finger in her mouth.

“Well, of all the things.” I put my hands on my hips, pretending to be offended, but the truth is I’m thrilled. She already seems to know and love her daddy.

“He’s getting better at helping with her,” Roland observes, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed.

“Hey, I’ve never been around babies before.”

“I told you it isn’t rocket science.”

“Oh, ignore him,” I fuss, placing my face close to Jilly’s, my hand on her back. “He thinks he’s the baby whisperer because she rarely cries for him.”

“She only cries when her needs are not properly met.”

Lifting my chin, my eyes meet Mark’s, and we both laugh. Jilly’s eyes blink slowly, and her little ear is pressed right above her daddy’s heart. I wonder if she can hear it beating.

“Let’s go to our room,” I say softly. “When was her last bottle?”

“A few minutes before I opened the door. She’s burped and changed and ready for a nap.”

“What’s going on here?” The impatient female voice causes me to take a step back. “What are they doing here?”

“Well, hello, Molly,” Roland says in his usual play-formal way. “It’s great to see you, too. Isn’t the weather nice for Seattle?”

“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in New Orleans with the baby.”

“Molly.” I go to her, reaching for her hand. “Mark brought Roland and Jillian to find us.”

“We weren’t lost,” she snaps, giving Roland a stern look. “He knew we were here.”

“I think Lara mis-phrased that,” Roland continues, teasing her annoyance. “I would’ve said Roland and Jillian were dragged along with Mark to find us… or does that make it more confusing?”

Turning to Mark, I put my hand on his forearm. “Would you take Jilly to our room so I can talk to Molly?”

The expression on his face is different from earlier—more open, loving. It seems I’m not the only one susceptible to our daughter’s healing powers.

“Sure.” He moves his arm so our hands unite. “I’ll put her down for a nap. Don’t be too long.”

I smile, and he leaves us for our room. For a moment, all I can do is watch him walking away, silhouetted in the light from the far window, broad shoulders, narrow waist, amazing ass in those tailored slacks, ripples of muscles holding our tiny infant so gently against his bare chest.

“You can pull your tongue in your mouth now,” Molly snarks. My eyes cut to hers, and she’s fuming.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Moulin Rouge is on.” Roland steps away from the door, and it closes behind him with a slam.