head and gave Billy a sympathetic look. “Moms just don’t get it, do they?”
Billy shook his head. “Don’t get it.”
He carried Billy into his room and helped him into his pj’s, then settled him in bed. He’d done the same thing a hundred times with his nieces and nephews, but there was something different about putting Billy to bed. The kids in his family all had adoring dads of their own. He was just a welcome variance in their routine. With Billy he sensed that having a man put him to bed was a whole new experience. He seemed wide-eyed that Justin would want to, and pitifully eager to prolong the storytelling as long as possible.
“Read it again,” he begged, even though he could barely hold his eyes open after the second time.
“Close your eyes and go to sleep,” Justin countered. “I’ll read for five more minutes, but you’d better be snoozing when I’m done.”
Billy smiled contentedly and snuggled down beneath the covers. He dutifully closed his eyes. As Justin had expected, he was sound asleep before Justin had finished reading the first page. Justin sat for a moment longer and stared at the boy, amazed by the sense of yearning that came over him.
Why had he waited so long before claiming nights like this for himself? He’d been dating forever—maybe not as extensively as Harlan Patrick, but enthusiastically. The idea of settling down had never once crossed his mind until now.
He sighed heavily. It would have to be a woman with secrets and a boy with coal black eyes who drew him. Something told him that down that path lay heartache. The new report that had landed on Tate’s desk today confirmed it. Will Longhorn was now claiming that Patsy had kidnapped their son. The stakes had escalated way past his own needs and longings.
He was still sitting there when he sensed Patsy behind him. He jolted when her hand came to rest on his shoulder. The touch was as light and tentative as the flutter of a bird’s wings, but he felt as if it were the most intimate caress he’d ever shared.
“You guys finish your story?” she whispered.
“Twice,” he admitted.
“Dani was right. He does have you wound around his little finger. I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that.”
“He gets to me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Is it possible for a man to feel an instinctive bond with a child who’s not his own?”
“Adoptive dads do that all the time.”
“True.” He glanced over his shoulder into her eyes. “Maybe I’m just getting to a time in my life when I’m thinking about a family and wondering when I’ll have one of my own.”
“You will when you want to,” she said. “You come from a long line of men who go after whatever they want. They’re all family men, with deep roots. You’re no different.”
“What happens if I pick the wrong woman?” he inquired softly, meeting her gaze evenly. “What if I pick someone who’s not free to love me back?”
He saw the flare of alarm in her eyes, the sudden rush of dismay that stripped the color from her cheeks.
“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaky.
He refused to look away or to yield to her obvious panic. “I’m just wondering, hypothetically, what would happen to my dreams if I fell in love with a woman who’s not available? Where would that leave me?”
Rather than answer, she whirled and left the room. Justin followed slowly. He found her on the front porch, staring out at the night sky. He walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, much as she had done to him earlier. He could feel her trembling, felt the buck of her pulse where his thumb rested against her neck.
And then he felt the hot splash of a tear on his hand. It almost brought him to his knees. He hadn’t meant for her to cry, hadn’t meant to shake her so badly that she would run from him. He’d just wanted to prod her into opening up at last. Maybe a direct, straightforward question would have been better, after all.
He turned her gently, then pulled her into his arms. She resisted for no more than a heartbeat, then rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“For what?”
“Pushing again.”
“It’s not that.”
“What then?”
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, then whispered, “You know, don’t you? I’ve sensed it for days now.”
His own breath caught in his throat. At