“Why are you here?” I asked the spawn of Satan. I had obviously missed that they were evil the night before. Maybe sleep deprivation had finally melted my brain.
“We came to pick up you and Uncle Cyrus to go to Nana and Grandpa’s.”
What?
Family?
More family? Was he high?
I tossed the comforter off of me, put it back over Pip and Micah, and walked out into the kitchen where I smelled coffee.
“Good morning,” Carolyn greeted me as I staggered over first to her brother to kiss him and then to the coffee pot.
“Ma’am, your children are evil.”
She laughed softly. “Tell me they did not put their freezing little feet on your stomach.”
“They did.” I glared at her.
“God,” she said and sighed, “they are one hundred percent in love with you.”
I grunted as Cyrus walked over to me.
“How did you sleep, cowboy?”
“Ain’t a cowboy no more,” I said, sipping the black coffee.
“You’ll always be my cowboy,” he said, gravel voiced and sleepy, placing soft kisses along the underside of my jaw. I couldn’t stop the rumbling purr that came out of me.
Carolyn made a noise, but I couldn’t be bothered to look at her. I was far too interested in her brother and his hands roaming up under my T-shirt.
“This weekend,” he began, fingers tracing over the muscles in my abdomen, “I promised my folks I’d drive up to their place in Half Moon Bay because my brother Brett and his family are spending the holidays with his wife’s family this year so we won’t see them again until after the New Year.”
“Okay.”
“Carolyn was supposed to go as well, of course, and take her kids.”
“And my husband.” She sighed. “Don’t forget I was supposed to have a husband as well.”
“That ain’t your fault, darlin’,” I reminded her.
“I know, but still.”
I put the coffee down, even though I needed it to wake up, because I needed Cy more. The allure of the man was overwhelming. “Well, you should go.” I yawned, wrapping my arms around him, drawing him close. “I can stay here.”
“Oh no,” Carolyn chimed in from behind me. “I want you to spend more time with the boys, Weber, and I want to talk to you about Micah.”
“I don’t wanna be in the way,” I said, smoothing a hand down Cy’s back, pressing him tighter against me.
“You won’t be.” She sighed. “I promise. Believe me, both my brother and I need you as a buffer from our parents.”
“Is that right?” I asked Cy as I tipped his chin up so I could see the cognac-colored eyes for myself.
“Yes.” He sighed. “My father and I are different kind of men, and my mother worries about me incessantly.”
I grinned at him. “So you get that from her, do you?”
“What? I never worry about anything?”
“You know you’ll turn to stone if you lie like that.”
“What do I ever worry about?”
I arched an eyebrow at him.
“That doesn’t count. Anyone in their right mind would worry about you.”
I chuckled, bent and kissed him, and then let him go, leaning back against the counter and smiling at Carolyn. “So, why doesn’t Micah talk?”
She sucked in her breath. “A little over a year ago, he was at home with my mother-in-law because he didn’t want to go to Tristan’s soccer game with the rest of us, and she had a heart attack and died. It was fast. She had an acute pulmonary embolism, and she was gone in a matter of seconds. Micah called 911, and that was the last time he’s spoken.”
Jesus. “He was with her alone until the ambulance came?” I asked her.
“Yes.”
“And how long was that?”
“Not long, ten minutes maybe.”
“That’s long for a little kid.”
“Too long, apparently. He hasn’t uttered a word in almost a year.”
“He laughs, though. I’ve heard him.”
“Yes. He laughs and cries and sneezes and coughs and…. It’s not physical, it’s not medical… he simply won’t speak.”
I nodded.
“We’ve tried hypnosis, we’ve tried—I mean, my husband and me, before he bailed with the nanny—we tried everything.” Her eyes filled and her breath caught fast and I moved forward, around the island to where she was sitting, and grabbed her off her stool.
I gently pressed her to my heart and patted her back with my other hand. “Any man that leaves his children is good for nothing, you hear me? A man can walk out on his wife, or his husband, and be forgiven, but a man who leaves his children ain’t one. I suspect he will come cryin’ back to you once he figures out that the nanny ain’t a woman but a girl instead. When he comes back, you got yourself a decision to make.”
She clung tight, breathing me in. “God, Weber, I so get why Cy’s in—”
“Lyn!” he barked at her.
“Oh,” she whimpered, “I have not been held like this in forever.”
I tilted her head up so she could see my face. “I am so sorry to hear that. Bein’ held is one of the best parts of havin’ a mate, ain’t it?”
“It should be, yes.” She nodded, wiping at her eyes and stepping back away from me.
“Okay,” I sighed, releasing her. “So now I understand. Micah didn’t save his grandmother, so he feels like he failed.”
“Yes.” She was crying again. “That’s exactly what his therapist thinks.”
“He feels he could have done somethin’.”
She nodded.
“Poor kid.” I exhaled before I turned away from her and yelled, “I’m coming back in there, and there better not be anybody in my bed!”
The squeals of laughter were clear from the other room.
“Jesus, Weber, they’re in love.”
“He’s addictive,” Cy said under his breath, but I heard him.
“I’m coming!” I yelled a second time.
I left the kitchen, and when I got to the bedroom, even Tristan was under the covers, the bed moving so hard it looked like it was rolling under the comforter. I lay down, complained about how lumpy the bed was as the laughter got louder and louder. When I threw the comforter off
