Page 46 of The Cowboy's Miracle Baby

He looked guilty of something, but she couldn’t imagine what. “I was, uh… just putting blankets on Kholá, Lulu and She-Ra. It’s cold out tonight.”

“I thought they were already blanketed,” she said, opening the door to usher him inside.

His cheeks reddened. “Maybe earlier. But… but I just did it and got them settled.”

Hmm.“Okay. I’m sure they’ll appreciate being a little warmer tonight. It’s really cold.”

“How was your date?” he asked, shrugging out of his coat.

“It wasn’t a date.”

He smirked at her. “Whatever you say. See you tomorrow. G’ night.”

“’Night Ry. And it wasn’t a date.” Except for the good-night kiss part. That part was definitely… the end of a date.

*

Gus bent overhis daughter who was sound asleep, brushed her hair back softly and kissed her good night. He would never get over how angelic she looked asleep. How all the troubles and worries in her little world vanished when she closed her eyes.

Sometimes, when she didn’t know he was watching, he would catch her staring off into the distance, her thoughts miles from him. It was a gaze too deep for a six-year-old and full of longing he understood completely. And when she caught him watching, she would simply smile and go on with her day. He, on the other hand, would blame himself for her loneliness and vow to fix it for her. But there were some things that he couldn’t fix.

The house was quiet. Luke was asleep already, too, but Gus, feeling conflicted and off-center, decided to pour himself a drink before bed. Tension had him by the neck, and he rubbed a hand over the back of it as he sat down on the living room couch to stare at the ice cubes clattering against the sides of the crystal glass.

Downing a few sips quickly, he set the glass on the coffee table beside him and closed his eyes, thinking of Cami. About that kiss and the need that rose up in him when she kissed him back. He leaned back against the couch cushions feeling inordinately tired.

In his mind, he reviewed the night and the way she’d looked at him. Her arguments against getting involved and how none of that had stopped what had happened between them. How her lips had felt under his kiss and how long it had been since he’d kissed anyone like that.

He draped a forearm over his eyes, blocking out the light from the nearby lamp. She was probably right. They shouldn’t go there. He knew that. But they’d been thrown together because of this baby. This miracle baby, who had singlehandedly drawn them together because she needed a family. A home. Help. Otherwise, would he have even met Cami? Talked to her? Gotten to know the Hardestys? It was like Lolly had opened a door to them all.

“Because that’s what children do,” said a familiar voice from beside him.

Startled, he sat up to find Lissa, stretched out on the couch beside him, wearing those beat-up old sweats she loved and the tee shirt with the heart painted on the front. She looked strong and healthy as she had when they’d first married, not the way she had in the end. She was herself. And beside her, he felt like himself, too.

His throat clogged. His relief at seeing her again tightened his chest like a cinch. “I-I didn’t think I’d see you again. I’ve missed you, Liss.”

She smiled the way she used to when she’d see him first thing in the morning. Like he was better than her first cup of coffee. “I thought it was better. For you. You know? And you see? It was.”

It was more than just a comfort to see her again. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked good.

“So,” he said. “You saw her.”

She nodded.

“And you already know. I kissed her.”

“She’s very pretty, Gus. I like her.”

I do, too.He didn’t say it out loud, but she heard it all the same.

“That makes me happy,” she said.

The tension drained out of him, and he took a long sip of whiskey, spinning the ice in his drink against the sides. “But what if it’s more than that?”

“And… that would mean—”

“I don’t know. The end of something. Of us?”

She crossed her feet beside him on the couch and twirled a piece of her long, dark hair with her fingers. “No. There will always be anus. But you can’t be disloyal to a dead wife, Gus. Not forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to seriously let me go.”

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