Page 39 of A Love Like That

It wasn’t the first time this had happened since Ellie’s arrival, but it was the most brutal.

She switched off the faucet and dried her hands before peering up at me. “Do you want to know what I think?”

I nodded. “Please.” Ellie spent more time with Maddox than anyone. Even in the relatively short time she’d been here, he’d allowed her to comfort him more than he had me.

She crooked her finger, beckoning me to follow. Curious, I let her escort me into the laundry room, watching as she closed the door softly behind us.

“He’s scared,” she said, her scent filling the room, making it difficult to think straight. “I think he resists connecting to you because he lost his mom. And he’s afraid if he gets close to you, he’ll lose you too.”

I dipped my head, feeling even more ashamed. Why could Ellie so easily read the situation and my children, and I couldn’t? And was I doing the same thing to my kids—subconsciously pushing them away—because I was afraid of losing them?

“I, um… Sorry.” She hunched her shoulders as if retreating into herself. “Maybe I said too much.”

I shook my head. “You were right to say what you did.” I respected her more for it. “Thank you. And I owe them an apology. It’s just, I feel like I’m holding it all in all the time. I have to moderate my feelings when they’re interrupting me a million times. I have to keep my cool when I want to explode. And, fuck—” I dragged a hand through my hair. “It’s exhausting.”

She placed her hand on my arm, her touch soothing. “I’m sure it is. And you probably don’t hear this enough, but you’re a good dad.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. I wasn’t so sure about that. Most of the time, it felt as if I was fumbling around in the dark, just trying to survive. “Thanks.”

“The fact that you care so much proves you’re a good parent. And it’s normal to have doubts.”

I smiled. “When did you become so wise?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Almost everything I know about parenting is because of Tessa or the internet.” She pressed her lips together, and a tear snaked its way down her cheek before she quickly swiped it away.

Without thinking, I pulled her into my arms for a hug. She stiffened then sagged, allowing me to hold her. I was surprised by how well she fit in my arms. And I rested my chin on the top of her head, allowing myself a rare moment of solace.

All I’d wanted was to console her, but I found my body reacting to her nearness. To her scent—spicy and somehow sweet. It was mysterious and comforting. Somehow arousing and calming. Much like Ellie.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force those thoughts away. She was family. We were both grieving. This was about supporting each other, nothing more. It could never be anything more.

But as I held Elle to my chest, I knew I wanted more. And I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this—connection, intimacy, touch—until now. Until Elle was in my arms. It was both terrifying and comforting. Just like everything with this woman.

“Thank you,” she exhaled. “I needed that. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I asked as I reluctantly released her.

“Because here you are comforting me, when you lost your wife.”

I placed my finger beneath Ellie’s chin and lifted so her gaze met mine. “You lost someone you loved too. She was your sister. Your best friend.”

“God—” She huffed and stared at the ceiling, emotion building in her eyes. “Hearing Maddox cry for her was…” She pulled her lips between her teeth, another tear trailing its way down her cheek.

“I know.” I used my thumbs to wipe away her tears. Every time I was tempted to get lost in my own grief, I was reminded how difficult it must be for my kids. And for a moment—with Ellie—I didn’t feel so alone.

TEN

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

The light fixture jingled from the movement, and I sighed and stared at the ceiling again. What the heck was Tristan doing up there?

Rex and I glanced at each other, wearing matching looks of confusion. He was almost fully recovered from the surgery and back to his old self. I was glad, even if he could be a bit hyper at times.

The kids were at school, and Tristan had come home early from a meeting. Since then, it’d sounded as if an elephant were pacing upstairs. I could barely concentrate, and I was trying my best to stay busy and not think about the fact that we were alone in the house. Well, apart from Rex and Hedgie.

Being alone with Tristan was dangerous. It made me want things. Things I couldn’t have.

But I cared too much about him and the kids to jeopardize everything for a little fun. And besides, what would be the point?

---