Page 72 of Dr. Stone
I brushed my hand over Jace’s cheek. “Stay here. I’ll put him back in his bed. Maybe he’ll settle once we’re not in the living room.”
Jace smirked in victory as I carried Duke toward the pantry. Of course, the little traitor barked again the second I passed Brandon’s door—waking him.
By the time Jace went to soothe Brandon and I bribed Duke with a treat, the night was officially a bust.
“Wait,” Jace said from the doorway, Brandon in his arms. “You’re rewarding him?”
“I’m bribing him,” I corrected. “Big difference.”
But then Brandon did something that made my heart stop. He tucked his face into Jace’s chest and clung—like I was the stranger, not him.
“Look at that,” Jace said softly, smiling down at Brandon. “The dog might hate me, but at least my new bud here doesn’t.”
My chest tightened. Brandon had never latched onto anyone this quickly. With friends, with his sitter—he was sweet, yes, but never this. Never choosing someone over me.
It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Terrifying because if this didn’t work, it wouldn’t just be my heart at risk. And exhilarating because maybe…just maybe…Jace was the unexpected piece Brandon and I had been missing.
“He’s not usually like this,” I said quietly.
“No?” Jace grinned at Brandon. “Guess he just likes my medical journal bedtime stories.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, still stunned.
“I think you and I need to pick up where we left off, huh, little man?”
I watched Jace carry him back into his room, more eager to read him research articles than to have sex—which was both infuriating and, somehow, unbelievably attractive.
I trailed after them, settling into the cushioned chair across from the rocker. My disappointment over the ruined orgasm softened as I curled up, blanket pulled over me, watching Jace read animatedly to my son. Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off him. And hell, neither could I.
As Jace’s voice droned on—steady, soothing—I felt my eyelids grow heavy. I let myself sink into the sound of him, safe, warm, unexpectedly at peace.
Sex could wait. Tonight, this was more than enough.
THIRTY-THREE
Jace
Brandon was completely knocked out,breathing heavily against me. His small body was molded to my bare chest, one tiny fist pressed firmly like he’d claimed me. A light trail of drool rested on my skin as he breathed in slow, even rhythms.
I kept my voice low, continuing to read the latest cardiovascular journal on my phone like it wasGoodnight Moon. I just needed to finish this last section, then I could finally put the little tyke to bed.
“The new hybrid procedure, a robotic-assisted valve repair combined with limited thoracotomy, has demonstrated an eighty-two percent reduction in perioperative mortality in early trials…”
I paused, eyebrows lifting in fascination. Glancing over at Brandon, I couldn’t help but snicker softly—apparently, he thought this stuff was a sedative. The poor kid was completely out, pacifier on the floor, the tiniest snore escaping him.
The moment brought me a sense of joy I didn’t think I’d ever felt before.
“So, groundbreaking cardiac innovation puts you to sleep. Noted,” I muttered under my breath. “If only this worked on the damn dog.”
I glanced up, seeing Andie curled in the oversized chair in the opposite corner. She looked like an angel. Hair spilled down one shoulder, head tilted and resting on her palm. Her legs tucked beneath her like she’d only meant to sit for a second before her body gave out.
“Well, shit. I start reading about hybrid surgical techniques, and the whole damn room passes out,” I whispered, half to Brandon, half to myself.
But then, silence. Something about it hit harder than I was ready for. I was holding a boy who wasn’t mine and staring at a woman I never meant to fall for. Every thought I’d had about Andie since that first night came rushing back—whatever had drawn me to her then was still here, only now, it cut deeper.
This was peace. And God help me, I didn’t want it to end.
Brandon stirred when I moved but didn’t wake. I carried him to bed, lowered him into the crib, and pulled the blanket over his legs. Smoothing the wisps of hair from his forehead, I grinned when he didn’t even flinch.
