“Would you mind finding the stuffed monkey in her bag?” Kyle asked, sitting up so he could move Katie into a better position.
I found the tattered toy and handed it to him. Katie immediately tucked it beneath her chin and was asleep in a matter of minutes, her breathing deepening. Her thumb popped out of her mouth, and she let out a little snore.
“I think we’re going to be stuck here for a while. If I move her, she’ll wake up. And if she wakes up, prepare yourself for the reign of Godzilla.” Kyle cringed, and I laughed quietly.
“That’s fine, as long as there are more apple slices in that bag.”
“What’s mine is yours,” Kyle urged, and the way he said it made me warm inside.
Slowly, he laid back onto the blanket, careful not to disturb Katie. He wrapped one arm to secure her to his chest and stretched his other arm out to the side. He looked up at me, his eyes heavy. “Come lay down with us.”
“I don’t want to wake her up.” My heart hiccupped.
“She’s out like a light. As long as she’s laying on me, she won’t wake up. Promise.” He patted the space beside him.
“Well, okay then. I guess I could use a nap too. She makes it look appealing.” I gingerly laid down, leaving an inch or two between us. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel his body heat.
Ever so slowly, Kyle wedged his arm beneath my head and pulled me closer—ever so slightly.
I let out a contented sigh. I couldn’t help it. All of the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto evaporated in that instant with Kyle’s arm beneath my head and Katie’s soft, steady breathing.
“I know you said not to thank you. But thank you,” Kyle said softly.
My eyes started to drift closed, and I let myself sink into this comfortable serenity.
“I think I should be the one thanking you,” I said just as softly.
Chapter 11
Kyle
“Whitney, do you need a ride to the office?” I called out. I finished getting Katie’s bag together and left her sitting in the porta-crib I kept up in the living room. For the time being, she was content playing with her blocks.
In the two weeks since Whitney and I got married and she had moved in, I discovered she needed some prodding in the morning. She usually dashed out the door with five minutes to spare, leaving her purse behind, or her keys, or her phone—resulting in her having to rush back to get the things she left. I had started gathering her stuff the night before and putting them by the front door for ease.
I had a late start myself that morning, and now I was trying to do a hundred things to get ready for the day. Today was the official ribbon cutting of the new town center I had designed. It wasn’t a big ceremony, only a lunchtime gathering of local businesses.
I gave the crew the day off so they could attend. It had taken a lot of work, and I wanted them all recognized for their efforts. Nothing is a one-man job, and I always made sure my crew got as many kudos as I did.
I was also scheduled to meet briefly with Adam this morning, who had filed the custody paperwork in the local court a week and a half ago. We had agreed we’d file under both mine and Whitney’s names.
“Damn it, where’s Frazzles?” I muttered. I checked Katie’s room, and he wasn’t there. Then I remembered she had him in the bathroom while I brushed her teeth.
Whitney’s door was closed, so I assumed she was getting ready, which was the only reason I didn’t knock before barging into the bathroom. I walked into a face full of steam. My brain went into immediate slowdown, and I was rooted to the spot.
Whitney screamed, scrambling for the towel hanging from the hook behind the door. The problem was the door was open, and I was blocking the way.
“Have you heard of knocking?” she shrieked, trying to cover herself with her hands.
I know I shouldn’t stare. If I were a gentleman, I would avert my eyes and hastily scramble out of the room with an effusive apology. Apparently, I wasn’t a gentleman because all I could do was gawk at her, my mouth hanging slightly open like a horny thirteen-year-old.