Page 39 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
I have no intention of going anywhere tonight.
No intention of letting her sleep alone.
No intention of letting her drift off to sleep without knowing that I care about her. That she doesn’t have to be the one who takes care of everyone else for a change.
She watches me move around her bedroom, trying to find her coziest pajamas. When I come back with a silk tank top and shorts, she puts her arms up so that I can slip it over her head. She pulls a pair of matching silk panties from the dresser and lets me help her into them.
I sit on the edge of her bed and braid her long hair to keep it from tangling overnight.
“Where did you learn to do all of this?”
“How does anyone learn to take care of someone else?” I ask instead of answering.
She had to learn it from somewhere, too. I imagine her mother was the one who taught her to care for others. Her mother hovers over Noah as if he were made of glass.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Maybe it just comes naturally to some of us.”
“Maybe it does.” I pause for a second, pushing her braid over her shoulder. “When you care for someone.”
“Let’s not?—”
“Let me take care of you,” I cut her off before she tries to ruin the moment. “For once in your life, let go and let someone else do this for you.”
* * *
Paige
“Casually,” I say.
If Aaron thinks any particular way about my announcement, he doesn’t show it. His eyes never leave mine. His gaze never wavers. Instead, he does something that surprises me.
He rolls his eyes.
“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. “I really only want you for the sex, in case you didn’t notice.”
His answer is cheeky enough to disarm me instantly. All of the emotions that felt overwhelming a few minutes ago disappear with the sound of my surprised laughter.
Aaron puts a finger to his lips, reminding me that Noah is sleeping just a few feet away from us in his bedroom. But his lips curl into a smile that makes it hard to breathe.
“I like this version of you,” he murmurs.
“What version is that?”
He considers the answer for a moment, his deeper thoughts obvious in the furrow between his eyebrows. When his eyes sweep from the top of my wet hair to my bare feet, he finally decides: “Relaxed.”
The word suits me in this moment. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt for months. Being a single mom weighs on me more than I care to admit, and my job only adds to the stress. I love this weightless feeling.
“Now, into bed with you,” Aaron announces quietly.
He pulls the covers back on the old mattress. Without a second thought, I shimmy under them and settle in. Aaron presses a kiss to my forehead.
My stomach drops at the prospect of him leaving. It feels like a goodbye kiss… until he burrows under the covers with me.
Words don’t fill the space between us as we lie there, my head on his chest and my fingers tracing the muscles in his bicep. Of their own accord, they move to the swirl of his tattoos. With his skin exposed, I can tell it’s a single, continuous tattoo rather than separate pieces.
“You’re wondering why I have such a large tattoo,” he says when my fingers pause on the scar on his side.
I nod, hoping that he’ll trust me with the story.
