The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,104

least I could do is be a little less of a paranoid dick about his girl.”

The back of my throat burned as a knot of emotion lodged itself right there.

“But that also doesn’t mean I stopped worrying,” he added in a tone that was surprisingly gentle. “I saw what you are capable of. I felt it. I hope for everyone’s sake nothing comes from that worrying.”

Easily recalling Kat’s warning, I nodded. “I will do everything I can to make that the case.”

“I know.” There was a stretch of silence. “You probably should get back inside soon. If Luc wakes up and finds you gone, God only knows what he’ll do, but it will likely be loud and make all my hard work here with Adam go to waste.”

Grinning as the baby gurgled sleepily, I nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“Usually,” he replied, and there was a hint of a teasing grin.

“Well, I hope the night is a quiet one and all of you get some rest.”

“I hope so myself, but if it’s not…” He looked down at the top of the baby’s covered head. His features softened, impossibly so. “Wouldn’t trade a damn second of this for anything.”

Oh my goodness.

My heart imploded into goo.

“Good night,” Daemon murmured, completely unaware that I was melting like chocolate on a hot summer day. He turned, his large hand still protectively folded around the back of his son’s head as he began whispering to the sleeping child about someone called Princess Snowbird.

Watching him disappear back up the driveway and through the canopied carport, I thought that we’d actually had a decent conversation.

Maybe Daemon didn’t hate me, because he was giving me a chance to prove that I wasn’t a danger. And maybe babies were actually cute, because Adam was cute with the odd little sounds he made. Especially ones that didn’t all but rip their way out of me when they made their appearance in the world.

Babies.

I shuddered.

I stared at the darkness of the looming city. Right now, babies made me want to scream and run in the opposite direction. I was smart enough to know that could change down the road, because there would be a down the road, but that was a bridge Luc and I would cross. Together. If we wanted children one day—I shuddered again—we could adopt. Being able to conceive a child didn’t make a mother a mom or a father a dad. It didn’t mean a child was loved any more or less, and it sure as hell didn’t make one lesser than the other in any way.

I knew that better than most.

Mom loved Evie—the real Evie. I could see that when she told me about her and in the memory that had surfaced. And I think that she had loved me, despite all the lies. Or maybe that’s what I needed to believe, because I did miss her. I missed her smile, the way she smelled, and her hugs. I missed that I could think of her without guilt and hatred.

And for the first time since I’d learned the truth about everything, I almost found myself wishing that I could forget her.

20

“Didn’t we already discuss this?” Yanking my hair back, I twisted the mass into a bun and then shoved the first of a million bobby pins into it. “I told you I wanted to get back to training as soon as possible.”

Luc stood in front of the television, and it looked like the painting of the archangel Michael was seconds away from smiting him. Luc was still shirtless, and I had a strong suspicion he was trying to distract me.

“We discussed this,” he replied. “But it was sort of a one-sided discussion with you saying you wanted to get back to training.”

“And you agreed.”

“I do, but I also think there’s no harm in taking it easy.”

“I don’t need to take it easy after sleeping for four days.” I shoved another bobby pin in, nearly scalping myself in the process. Ouch.

“I just don’t want you to overdo it, Evie, and then have you pass out again.” Luc picked up a shirt.

“Dr. Hemenway didn’t say something like that would happen.”

“She also doesn’t know what will happen.” His brows knitted. “How many bobby pins do you need?”

“A lot. And I feel perfectly fine.” One more bobby pin and I was somewhat confident my hair wouldn’t topple over when the lightest breeze touched it.

“You do look perfectly fine.” He tugged the shirt on. Finally. He arched a brow. “Didn’t realize my man