Page 74 of Your Soul to Keep

“I like banananas,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” I whispered back.

She drew her head back and beamed at me, then, grabbed my cheeks and laid one on me.

I laughed out loud and hugged her until she wriggled to get down.

It wasn’t until we got into the car to leave that I ventured, “Gabe? About Dylan’s daycare—”

He shook his head. “I’ll handle it, Shae.”

“I used to work with special needs kids. I know a bit about—”

His narrowed gaze stole the rest of my words from my mouth. “She’s too young to be saddled with a label like special needs. I said I’d take care of it.”

When we got back to his place, he took off down the hall and asked me to wait for him in the living room.

“I need a few minutes, Shae-baby.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I just have to wrap my mind around—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “I’ll be back.”

Within ten minutes, he plopped down on the couch beside me. “I’m sorry. I’m used to parenting on my own.” He paused. “I just hate that they look at her like there’s something wrong with her.”

“She’s perfect, Gabe. Even if she has learning differences, she’s still perfect.”

He dropped his head back onto the couch, his face drawn. “I’ll let you in. I promise.”

“You’ll let me in?” I asked, a potent cocktail of elation and terror bubbling inside me.

He would let me fill the vacant space where a mother should have been?

Could they ease the cavernous space inside me?

His next words hit me like a bucket of icy water.

Tilting his head to the side, he took me in. “Just as soon as I know you’ll stay.”

I gaped at him, at the bald realization he worried I might leave. At the fear his concern was not wholly unfounded.

Eyes shuttered and wary, he asked, “For a start, how about you stay with me tonight?”

I stood up and offered him my hand. “Lead the way.”

19

Hope

Hebrushedhislipsover my knuckles before standing and leading me to his bedroom.

Cast in moonlight, it wrapped around me like a bear hug. Sturdy wooden furniture with minimalist masculine lines, a plush duvet on the king-sized bed, and a thick area rug warming the wide wood flooring pulled me forward as surely as his hand in mine.

Other than a lamp and a small bowl for his watch and chain, there was nothing on the nightstand. The chest of drawers held a huge television, but the dresser was completely bare.

How would my dainty treasures look scattered over the top?

Nan’s Irish lace and my mother’s vintage perfume bottles. It had been so long since I’d opened her favorite perfume, but I could almost smell her fragrance.

Tiny porcelain cottages carried by hand from Ireland, tea lights flickering with life inside them.

Cottages Dylan would one day inherit.

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