Page 45 of Ruthless Heart

OLIVIA

By nighttime,I’m becoming more comfortable with being at Liam’s with Brady. I like that Liam’s interested, but not very hands-on. It gives us time to get used to things.

Some packages arrive in the evening to help us baby-proof, and Liam puts the outlet covers in the sockets and installs a bracket on the chest of drawers in his room so Brady won’t be able to pull it down on himself.

For his part, Brady seems just as curious about Liam. When we’re in the family room together, Brady crawls over to Liam and grips his pants leg to pull himself to a standing position. Then he just stares, as though he’s memorizing his dad’s face.

Liam leans forward and puts a hand on Brady’s head. “Good work, lad. Wanna come up?”

Liam picks him up and sets him on his thigh. After a minute, Brady lurches forward toward the couch cushions and Liam sets him on it. He crawls to me, and I cuddle him.

“He’s getting tired,” I say. “I should put him down.”

Liam nods, leaning back. “Let me know what you want for his room. You’ve got plenty of space now.”

“His room?” I stroke Brady’s hair. “I’m going to sleep in the room with him.”

“No, you’re not.”

My eyes narrow suspiciously. “You have a problem with that?”

“I do.”

“He’s not even a year old. Some books say kids don’t need nurseries. That it’s better to keep them close, especially when they’re babies.”

“Hmm.”

“Is this some macho thing? Where you want him to learn to be independent? Because the books say pressuring boys—”

“Olivia,” he says in a firm tone. “Go put our son to bed. We’ll talk about it after.”

Our son. Sharing a pronoun is still strange, partly terrifying and partly thrilling.

“After? You mean later tonight? Because, no. I’m going to bed, too. If you don’t want to discuss it now, it’ll have to wait til the morning.”

“It’s seven forty-five. You’re going to bed at eight o’clock?”

“I get him ready and read to him, and then when he’s down, I read myself. I have a routine.”

He leans back with an arm behind his head, showing off a bulging muscle. His broad chest expands as he draws in a deep breath. “Do your thing.”

* * *

Around nine,the guest room door opens. The hall is dark, so there’s no extra light to disturb us as Liam enters. He pauses at the crib to look at Brady before coming to stand next to the day bed.

He beckons for me to get up. “We’ll leave the door open so you can hear him.”

I set the e-reader next to me and give him a questioning look. “How about we wait until morning?”

“No.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I give him an exasperated look. I’m wearing a thin t-shirt and short-shorts that I don’t want to parade around the house in.

Without another word, he grabs me and hoists me over his shoulder. I gasp but manage to stay quiet otherwise. I’m dangling with my head upside down so I can’t see Brady, but the rhythm of his breathing never changes.

I manage to twist my shoulders so I can see. Liam leaves the door wide open as he carries me down the dark hall. Once we’re inside, he leaves the master bedroom door open as well.

He drops me on the mattress and stands with his arms folded across his chest, as if he’s waiting for me to try to bolt. That would be pointless, so after I sit up, I don’t move.

---