Page 128 of Hidden By His Side

His gaze moved to the bassinet, and warmth filled his chest. Bridget was his, too, but in a different way.

“She looks sweet like that, doesn’t she? I doubt it’ll last, though.”

Summer let out a choked gasp of a laugh. “Probably not.”

Ramiro laid her hand on the bed, keeping his over it. “Rest now. I’m here.”

Summer’s smile wasn’t huge and blazing, but it was real and still radiant in the soft way he craved.

She was all he’d ever crave.

Chapter 40

Summer’s eyes were so heavy. She dragged them open, the alphabet carpet in the nursery coming into focus, and panic hit her.

She’d fallen asleep. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep.

She jerked upright, staring down at her empty arms. Bridget wasn’t in her arms anymore. Had she dropped her?

Her heart tried to beat out of her chest as she started to surge out of the glider.

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay,” Ramiro whispered, his hand pressing on her shoulder to keep her seated. He crouched in front of her, his other hand stroking over her thigh as he stared into her eyes. “Everything’s fine. I put Bridget back in the crib.”

Summer stared into those warm eyes, her breathing not slowing. “I’m sorry!” she gasped. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“I can. It’s the middle of the night.” Ramiro’s hand slid from her shoulder down to where her boob was still hanging out. Hetucked it into her maternity nightgown. “You’re exhausted, and your body is doing double the work.” His hand reached up to cup her face. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one who gets her so milk drunk she goes right back to sleep.”

She stared into his calm face, letting his words wash over her, even if they weren’t true. It was wrong not to put Bridget back to bed, but she’d do better next time.

“I wish you’d let me bring her to you and then put her back to bed,” Ramiro mentioned again. “I don’t have those gorgeous breasts like you do, but acting as a delivery service would make me feel a little less useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Summer murmured, leaning forward and burrowing into his chest, her cheek rubbing against the hair there. “I like the glider better for breastfeeding. And it’s silly for us both to be awake.”

“Like I can sleep without you next to me.” His arms settled around her before he lifted her. She sighed, catching a glimpse of their perfectly swaddled and sleeping daughter as he carried her out of the room.

She was still so tired, and she let herself enjoy being in his arms. Any moment being held by Ramiro was her favorite part of the day.

He put her back to bed, just like he’d done with their daughter, but he didn’t let her go.

Her mind whirled as she imagined everything that could have gone wrong. What would have happened if Ramiro hadn’t been there? What if she’d dropped Bridget on the ground? Or worse,let her roll and wedge her soft, delicate head into the corner of the chair?

“I need to do better,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I killed Bridget’s father.”

His words washed over her, and her head jerked up so she could stare into his face. “You were protecting me!”

“I didn’t have to kill him. I chose to. I murdered him with my own hands. That’s the kind of man I am, the kind of man I’ve always been. A man who got more satisfaction from killing Bridget’s father than he should have. I’m glad I killed him.”

Summer’s hands shifted along his chest in a soothing caress. “I’m glad you did, too. What does that say about me?”

“You’ll always be better than me, Summer. No matter what you do, you’ll be the better parent.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “You know what kind of man I am, let me near you both, and still somehow believe you’re the one who needs to do better.” His hands found her hair, his fingers sliding through it so he could cup her head. “You don’t need to do better, Summer. You’re perfect, just how you are.”

She didn’t want him to watch her cry. He saw it way too much.

Summer snuggled into his chest, liking the tickle against her cheek. “Keep saying that and maybe I’ll start to believe it.”

Ramiro huffed out a breath as he nuzzled the top of her head. “Deal.”

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