down. “We’ll get him sleeping and then we can be alone.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
She winks and steps back. “I have them occasionally.”
A weird, heavy quiet descends as soon as she’s gone, and it takes me a moment to remember what I’m supposed to do. I’d blame the dress she’s wearing again, but this time I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with the fact I can barely keep my eyes open.
Hell. What is wrong with me that I can’t stand the screaming and constant noise Angelo makes when he’s upset, but as soon as he’s gone it feels like a part of me is missing?
They’ll be back any minute though, so I go to his closet in his room and dig out the humidifier. It’s in a box Hannah bought that first night. She said it helps with stuffy noses and cold, and the hum of the machine sometimes helps her kids sleep better.
I toss the box in my hands gently and shake my head. “I should have thought of this. Hopefully it works.”
The slow crescendo of Angelo’s healthy lungs returns so I rip open the flaps and put the few pieces together. His bedroom has a connected bathroom, so I fill up the basin.
I’m trying to find a place to set it up when Paisley walks into the room.
“Good job, Dad.”
It takes me a second to realize she actually means me. “Thank you. You have lavender?”
She shakes a tiny bottle in her hand. “Yep. I’ll add it to the water and then we can get everything going again. Then I want you to go sit and chill.”
Oddly, I want to stay and watch her. She moves so confidently and easily. Not only do I like looking at her, now that Angelo’s back in the room, I want to make sure he’s okay.
But Paisley has this and sitting down for a few minutes sounds like a great idea.
I wait until she’s changed him again, tried the pacifier and been denied and she looks up at me from her place in the rocking chair, feet kicked up on the ottoman, and laughs. “Go Mikah. Or once he’s down, you’re not going to get more kisses.”
She’s teasing. I like the way it looks on her.
“I’ll get more kisses either way.” I leave the room quickly, just in case she’s serious.
Back in the living room, I collapse into the couch and throw my feet up on the coffee table. My head falls back to the couch cushions and while I can still hear Angelo crying, it’s muted.
She must have gotten up and closed the door after I left.
Nice of her.
It’s the last thing I think before my eyes close and I fall asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Paisley
* * *
He’s adorable, sleeping on the couch. His head has fallen to the side, lips parted. His lashes are long, brushing against the top of his cheekbones and every once in awhile, a low, brief snore comes out.
He’d dressed up for tonight, at least nicer than the athletic pants and T-shirts I usually see him in, but not to the extreme of the suits I’ve also spied him in. He’s wearing jeans, frayed at the knee and hemmed at his ankles. The pale blue shirt he has on is also faded and with his arms propped along the back of the couch, a hint of his abs and a soft line of hair peeks out from the space between.
It’s taken me almost an hour to finally get Angelo settled down and sleeping. And I can imagine with how tired Mikah looked before he’s been asleep for nearly as long. My chest constricts as I stand there, staring at him like I’m still the stalker I was from behind a closed door over a week ago, but I’m not sure what to do now.
Leave? Give him a night of peace and quiet?
Or do what I really want and wake him up, see if I can rouse him for at least a kiss before I take off.
Let him sleep. My subconscious that loves caring for people wins out. For now.
Instead of leaving or curling up next to him on the couch and throwing myself at him, I head to the kitchen and fill a glass of white wine. Since Angelo cried while we ate, neither of us drank it but Mikah already had it open so I quickly fill a glass.
I can use it after spending an hour with a baby who pretty much screamed in my face.
Man. That