Page 28 of My Ex's Brothers

My heart leaps, wondering if this is going to be a habit. Do I want it to be?

The fact that I can’t say no should be concerning to me, but I have no time to think about any of that when Lyla belts out another scream, and I close my eyes.

“Hold that thought,” he says as I open my eyes and he enters my house without hesitation. I sigh, watching him set down the cup carrier and the flowers on my kitchen table, amidst the mess of mail, empty bowls and glasses, and a used diaper that I must have forgotten to throw away this morning.

Panic laces through me. My house is a wreck, my child is screaming, and I…

I take one look at myself in my oversized pajamas, feeling my hair slipping out of its messy bun, and I have never felt worse. I’m embarrassed on so many levels.

“Dane…”

But before I can get the words out, he’s got Lyla out of her swing. She screams, her little face all pink and angry as she balls her fist on his shoulder.

“Tell me all about it, sweetheart,” he says softly as he bounces her back and forth, running his hand up and down her back.

All the words get caught in my throat, my legs numb as I watch him with her.

That strange, warm feeling spreads in my stomach, the nagging question ofwhat ifforming once more.

What if Dex hadn’t shown up that night?

What if I’d picked Dane instead?

But before I can even let my mind wander down that path, he turns to me, capturing my gaze. I head over to the kitchen table, immediately trying to clear it. In a flash, his hand settles on my wrist. I freeze.

“Sit down,” he says softly. “I got this.”

“Dane…”

“Don’t argue with me,” he says, the command in his voice evident, and I have to remember to breathe because it goes straight to my…

No. No, Mia, bad idea!

“You don’t have to?—”

“Amelia, I want to. Is that so hard to believe?” he asks, and something about his words hits me harder than anything else. Tears threaten to pool in my eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just?—”

I sit down in my chair, and it’s only then I notice Lyla’s crying has stopped.

I look up to see him rubbing her back still, bouncing from side to side. Her eyelashes flutter, and I can see she’s on her way to slumber.

Of courses, he looks like her dad. That’s why she settles so easily, I tell myself. She doesn’t know the difference.

Hell, I have to remind myself every time I look at Dane, he’s nothim.

He’s not cocky or charismatic or bold or brash.

He’s soft around the edges, sweet in the center like a molten lava cake. He’s comfort and warmth, and he’s staring at me like I’m an angel, in my messy kitchen, while I’m dressed in the same pajamas I’ve been living in for two days.

I have to force myself to look away from him, my gaze settling on the flowers he brought.

He brought me flowers…

“In the neighborhood again?” I ask, reaching for the plastic wrapped around the stems.

“Something like that,” he says as he comes to sit in the chair beside me. He doesn’t move, just shifts Lyla on his shoulder. He cradles her tiny body with ease and she looks so small in his big arms. But perfect, nonetheless.

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