But Adalyn needed to be fed.
As Heaven eased over on her side and laid Adalyn against the mattress, he stood beside the bed. “I’m going to see what’s taking Layne so long.”
Before he reached the footboard, Layne walked through the door. He glanced in Heaven’s direction then Dylan’s. “Sorry I took so long.” He extended his arm, handing over the diaper bag when he was a foot away. “The water is murky from all the rain so I’m boiling some to mix with the formula. I sanitized the bottles too.”
“You sanitized the bottles?” Dylan snickered.
“Yeah. You’re supposed to.” A crease formed across Layne’s forehead. “Have you read any of the baby books she’s been reading?”
“I’m guessing you have?”
When Layne nodded, guilt rippled through Dylan. He promised Heaven he’d read the books, had read a few chapters in a couple, but nothing substantial. It was hard to focus on anything but the growing connection between her and Layne. As much time as they’d spent together, he didn’t know how Layne had time to read anything.
“Are you two finished rustling each other’s feathers?” Heaven’s voice held a hint of humor. So did her eyes. They shifted to Layne then back to his before she rolled them. “Layne, I appreciate everything you did, but I don’t think I’m going to need the bottles.”
Confusion flooded Dylan’s thoughts. Judging by the frown on Layne’s face, he was just as confused. And then the golden moment arrived—the realization of what she was insinuating.
“Oh,” he whispered, peeking over at his daughter and then at Layne. “If you read the books, then you should know she’s breastfeeding.”
Layne’s brows shot up. He tried to say something, even opened his mouth to comment, but he pivoted on his foot and faced the door.
“Okay then. I should—I should probably go.” He said nothing else as he moved across the floor and left the room.
Dylan laughed to himself. He hadn’t seen Layne’s cheeks turn that shade of red since… Hell, come to think of it, he’d never seen Layne’s cheeks that red. Good. It meant he still respected the boundaries between him and Heaven.
None of that mattered right now. Dylan’s only concerns were lying in front of him.
He made his way to his side of the bed. The mattress cradled his body when he climbed onto it and curled up to Heaven. Her energy spoke of the contentment she felt. It increased even more once he wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned over her shoulder.
When his daughter came into view, a sense of pride swelled in his chest. She was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, just like her mother. He had no doubts she would be a replica of Heaven when she was older. Heaven and Anna looked alike. If he were to guess, he’d say the same were true of Anna and her mother. But he saw some of himself in his little girl, her dark hair being the most prominent similarity at this stage.
If that were the only trait she inherited from him, he’d be okay with it. The more she took after her mother, the better. God knew he had darkness in him. He’d tasted the darkness in beating his father.
His gut churned at the thought. He couldn’t imagine doing the things to Adalyn his father had done to him. But unlike his father, he loved his child, and would make sure she always knew how much. He’d do anything for her and Heaven.
The longer he stared at them, the more his conversation with his dad came to mind. Giving himself up could keep Adalyn and Heaven safe, but leaving them would make him no better than his dad. Unless he left long enough to kill him and whoever else was responsible for threatening Heaven’s life.
Adalyn’s suckling stopped as she whimpered. Twice. Heaven stroked her face and cooed at her, but their daughter lay there, her little chest moving up and down with short breaths.
Guilt consumed his soul. He knew what upset her. She’d sensed his intentions. Had she seen the future and what it would be like if he left them?
Pushing the negative thoughts to the side, he worried that Heaven had sensed them as well. He didn’t notice a shift in her energy, which was a good sign, but it meant something else. If she hadn’t sensed his emotions, Adalyn was still protecting her from his negativity. Of course she was. If his bond with his daughter still existed, the bond she had with her mother did, too.
As he focused on his love for them, Adalyn’s vibrations switched from rapid beats to slower ones. She even started suckling again, which seemed to settle the tension he knew was building in Heaven.
The reality of what just happened weighed on his mind. He couldn’t leave them. It would break their hearts, and he couldn’t live with the thought of hurting them. Layne was right. Dylan couldn’t trust anything his father said, including his Keeper theory. Even if it helped Heaven, there was no guarantee that it would help Adalyn. Not with the bond he and his daughter shared.
As Adalyn snuggled closer to Heaven, he made his decision. He wouldn’t leave them, wouldn’t break their hearts or his.
While the decision relieved his mind, it also troubled him. Staying with them meant he’d have to trust in Layne and his abilities. Those abilities grew stronger the more he and Heaven spent time together.
He didn’t like the idea of them hanging out. It was bad enough knowing Layne felt something for her. Now that their connection was increasing, he worried she’d end up developing similar feelings.
Even if she did, at least she and Adalyn would be safe. He’d be the only one with the broken heart.
* * *
Layne stood on the porch, feet apart, hands folded behind his back. He watched the rain dripping off the roof to the handrail below. The wind continued to whip around him, sending a watery mist across his arms when it did. He didn’t mind the icy droplets. They had just enough time to cool his skin before they evaporated. Neither the wind nor the rain could cool the fire within him.
The horizon peaked through the valley as the slate blue sky continued to darken. Evening approached, but the rain showed no sign of departing. At least the thunder and lightning were gone. If he could find the umbrella, he’d check the water level near the creek. It had to be higher than it was mid-morning.
As curious as he was over the flooding, he couldn’t force himself to leave the porch. Nothing had dragged him away for the last two hours. Too many other things consumed his thoughts.
All the craziness that happened over the last few hours left him in a daze. He’d never experienced fear the way he had earlier or any of the other emotions that rocked him. There had been plenty.
The emotional roller coaster left him physically drained, as much as mentally. Everything ached, his head…stomach…heart… He’d witnessed the most miraculous event possible. It was nothing like he’d imagined. To have been a part of it…
It’s not like he would have kids of his own. He knew that, which is why this memory would be forever in his mind and heart. He’d never have a chance to witness it again.
At least he’d made himself useful. Somewhat. Too bad he didn’t use his abilities to help with Heaven’s contractions sooner. Maybe she wouldn’t have suffered the way she had. He’d never forget the pain on her face or the way it lit up when she saw her daughter for the first time.
His chest tightened. Her little girl had an effect on him, too. From the moment Heaven cradled her and he saw her tiny face, there was an instant sense of devotion. He would be her first Keeper, her first true protector, until hers came along. Someday.
For her sake, he hoped her Keeper and soulmate were one in the same, and they would be a fortunate pair. She deserved that much. So did Heaven, which is why he had to quit thinking about both. He couldn’t feel this way about them. They didn’t belong to him, nor did he have the right to feel so possessive of either.
Damn it… This fucking sucked.
He moved for the stairs, determined to get away from his thoughts. The pull of Heaven’s energy made it difficult, but he didn’t stop or look for the umbrella. It’s not like his clothes wouldn’t dry once he came back inside.
If he came back inside…
As he reached the steps, he glanced into the house once more. A strange sensation swept over him when the wall closest to the door came into view. Something flickered to life, something that resembled a shadow moving across the room. His gut sank as one thought entered his mind. Someone had found them.
Instinct kicked in. He rushed toward the house, jerking the screen door open. His fire blazed to life and a flame formed in his palm. God help the person when he found him. The unfortunate intruder would be dead in an instant.
He swept through the living room, growing closer to the hall that led to Dylan and Heaven’s room. But the instant he met the shadow head-on, all the adrenaline fueling the fire came to a halt.
Dylan glared at him. He stood at the front of the hall near the living room, both brows folded in confusion. His next step brought him closer, and then he noticed the flame in Layne’s palm. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Layne choked on his words and cleared his throat. He retracted the flame, regaining Dylan’s full attention once he did. “I was on the porch and I saw a shadow. I thought someone had found us.”
His friend stared in his direction, then his lips curled upward. “It’s good to see you’re on top of things. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”
Layne shrugged. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Well, do you think you could take a break for a second and talk to Heaven? I’m going to fix dinner, but she insisted on talking to you instead of sleeping.”
“Yeah, not a problem. She’s not still…”
Dylan laughed as he shook his head. “No. The baby just went to sleep. You’re good.”
Layne’s cheeks heated as he swept past him into the hallway. Guess he hadn’t hid his earlier embarrassment as well as he thought. Must have been the way he darted out of the bedroom when he realized what Heaven was doing. Why would she be so insistent on talking to him right now? She needed rest not conversation.
Once he reached the end of the hall, he moved through the open door, slowing his pace the further he made it into the room. Heaven lay across the mattress, underneath the blanket. Her back pressed against the pillows he’d propped behind her earlier. She was too busy watching her daughter to see him, but he noticed the twinkle in her eyes. All the love she felt for her child shined within them.
He hated to interrupt their time together, yet the minute she noticed him, her smile widened even further. “There you are.”
“You okay? Dylan said you wanted to see me.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She uncurled one of her arms and patted the mattress. “Will you sit with me?”
He froze in place, not sure if he should do as she asked. The earlier assault of his emotions left him weak and vulnerable. He didn’t like it, didn’t like feeling as if he had no control over what he said or felt. She could ask him any question she wanted and he’d have no choice but to tell her the truth. He was her Keeper. Refusing her was not an option, no matter how much he tried.
The mattress gave as he sat atop it. He took care not to jostle her or the baby when she beckoned him closer. He wanted to be closer. It was the only time he ever felt whole, the only time he knew peace. Still, their connection tormented him, too, like it did now. It didn’t stop until the fire in him stoked to life.
She lowered her gaze back to the baby, adjusting the blanket near her face. For someone who was insistent on speaking with him, she wasn’t in a hurry to tell him why.
She must have sensed his curiosity because he became her sole focus. “I spoke with my mom a little while ago. Our parents think it would be best if we stayed here for six more weeks. That’s the normal recovery period after giving birth, plus it keeps us away from Brightsville.”
“I have no problem with that, as long as you don’t. It’s better for us to stay away as long as possible. Nate knows we’ve been there once. He’ll hang around for a while.”
“I agree. As much as I want to be around my family right now, I can’t risk my daughter’s life.”
He sat in silence as she concentrated on the tiny bundle in her arms, unaware that she’d wounded more than his pride. Her comment did a number on his heart too. Did she doubt his ability to keep them safe? Had Cleveland not proved anything?
A good minute passed before the awkwardness became too much. She didn’t speak or glance his way, but her energy pulled at him as hard as ever. There was more she wanted to say, but as another minute passed, he doubted she would.
“Okay, then, if you’re finished, I better—”
“No. I’m not finished.” She looked up. “I just wanted to say thank you, for everything you did. The way you used your fire to ease my pain…I never knew something like that was possible.”
“Why thank me? It didn’t help. You were still in pain, Heaven. I was here beside you. Remember?”
The words came out harsher than he’d intended. Pride often caused a person to lose control of the filter on their mouth. It had a way of building a wall around a person’s heart, protecting it from further abuse.
Heaven didn’t appear fazed by his tone.
“It may not have ended the pain, but it could have been a lot worse. And you helped me push, remember?”
He smirked at her sarcasm then shook his head. “Touché.”
She was every bit as stubborn as she was beautiful. He couldn’t deny that. Who else would suffer through a strenuous labor and still have the strength to deal with his shit? No one would, but her. And while he would never understand why she cared so much, he didn’t want her to stop. Ever.
Shifting her body against the mattress, she averted her eyes. Something about the way she pursed her lips said she hadn’t finished saying everything on her mind. Whatever remained caused their connection to quiver.
“Is there something else, Heaven?”
“Yeah… I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten anything we’ve discussed over the last couple of weeks. Even the things we haven’t discussed. As soon as I’m better—”
“Don’t worry about any of that right now. Take these next few weeks to heal. You need to focus on your daughter, not me.”
“But I want to help you with your abilities. You’ve improved so much.”
She didn’t have time to help him anymore. The time they spent together took away from Dylan. Now that the baby had arrived, there would be less time for her to spare. Dylan would want those free moments.
“I’m okay, Heaven. Don’t worry about me. A few minutes ago, I formed a flame and controlled it without you.”
Her lips thinned then slanted downward. “Does that… Does that mean you don’t need me anymore?”
He couldn’t ignore the way her voice trembled. It made his gut twist tighter. The knot within doubled in size. She made things impossible for him. This whole situation was impossible because he didn’t want to fall for her, regardless of what his Dad said. Desiring her was bad enough. But love? No. That was one emotion he refused to feel.
“You know as well as I do that I’ll always need you. Whenever we’re together, I’m twice as strong, but you don’t have to hold my hand anymore. I’m in control, or damn close.”
His answer didn’t pacify her. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to put a wall between us, again?”
Damn it…
“I’m not putting a wall between us. I thought you’d be happy to hear I’m managing by myself. It gives you more time to spend with Dylan and the baby.”
“Adalyn. Her name is Adalyn.”
He didn’t realize they’d named her. Even as the words rolled off Heaven’s tongue, he couldn’t listen to what she was saying. He was too busy sensing her frustration. Why was she upset over him gaining more control of his abilities? It meant that he could keep her safe.
“I, uh…I didn’t realize you and Dylan picked out a name.” He tapped his fingers against the bed, thinking of the best way to diffuse the tension he’d caused. “Did you give her a
middle one, too?”
“It’s Rose. Adalyn Rose McBride.”
He repeated her name in his head. Adalyn… It sort of sounded like Dylan, which was probably the reason she’d chosen it. That, and it was pretty. He never doubted that she would come up with something special.
“I like it.”
He waited for her to look at him, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she looked everywhere but his direction. At least, she tried. Then he swept his hand up her arm.
Her face softened a second later. “I’m sorry for being so sensitive. I think I’m overwhelmed and tired. Still, it doesn’t give me the right to take it out on you.”
She slipped her arm away from the baby and reached for his hand. The minute their skin touched, their energy spun together, sending a wave of heat through the room. She stared at him, and then at their hands. Yet their hands weren’t visible, only the magenta colored flame that engulfed them.
“See,” he whispered. “I do need you, Heaven. You’re my Seeker, my source of power, and more importantly, you’re my friend. We have plenty of time to discuss our complicated lives. I’m not going anywhere. You and Adalyn are stuck with me.”
Curls bounced around her face as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “More like you’re stuck with us.”
He gazed at Adalyn, or rather, the thick, furry blanket that wrapped around her tiny body. It was hard to believe something so small could make such a huge impact on his heart. He cared about her as much as he did her mother, but both caused an ache in his chest. Nothing would satisfy it but—
“Do you want to hold her?”
He peered at Heaven. She must have sensed the sadness in him. Of course she did. He had no privacy when it came to her. It was like being around Nicholas. She didn’t read minds the way he could, but she sensed what she needed from energy.
What the Heart Desires Page 9
