Offside (22 page)

With every word, Landon felt the ground become a little more solid beneath his feet. He kissed Silver, laid a solid, smacking kiss on Dean’s cheek, then gazed down at his daughter, who’d stopped crying, but squirmed and made small, fussy noises in Silver’s arms.

“Are you ready to hold her?” Silver whispered.

Landon took a deep breath, then nodded. More tears spilled as the nurse helped Silver place the baby in his arms. She weighed almost nothing, but holding her was a heavy feeling, the sensation of all his love for Silver, of everything they shared, contained in this tiny being. Her head fit in his hand, her unfocused eyes somehow finding his face. Nothing he’d ever experienced compared to this moment. Dean put an arm over his shoulder, lightly tracing his finger down the baby’s cheek, speaking soft words that Landon couldn’t quite make out.

Then Becky was there, nudging him. “Landon, the doctor needs to check her again. You have to let her go.”

Never.
But he clamped down on the possessiveness, grinning ruefully as the doctor laughed.

“Not for long, Landon.” Dr. Singh winked. “After that, she’s all yours. Silver will need a lot of rest.” He eyed the heart monitor even as he handed the baby off to the nurse. His brow creased slightly. “Silver, how are you feeling, sweetie?”

“A little dizzy. And tired.” Silver licked her bottom lip. “Why?”

“Does anything hurt?”

Silver let out a strained laugh. “She might be tiny, but she didn’t feel like it coming out. I’m sore.”

Dr. Singh frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

What’s going on?
Landon forced himself to look away from where the nurse was examining his daughter and speaking quietly to Becky. Dean still hadn’t left Silver’s side. And the lines around his eyes had deepened, adding years to his features.

“My chest hurts a little.” Silver pressed her eyes shut. Moisture gathered on her lashes. “It’s my heart, isn’t it?”

Her heart?
But, hadn’t the problem been just because from the strain of carrying the baby?

“I believe so. I would recommend you staying for a few days, at least until you see the specialist.” Dr. Singh’s lips thinned as the lines on the heart monitor spiked. “For now, I’m going to give you something to regulate your pulse. It might be nothing, but I’d rather not take any chances.”

“What about our baby? Can she go home?” Silver held up her hand before Landon could protest. “I don’t want her here longer than necessary. My screwups aren’t changing anything for her.”

The nurse carried the baby back to them, nodding to the doctor. “She went up two points. Well within the normal range.”

“I can make an appointment with the specialist. Come back and be really careful until then,” Silver spoke in a rush, as though letting anyone interrupt would trap her here. “Like you said, it might be nothing.”

“All right, I’ll leave the three of you—” he inclined his head in Dean’s direction to include him “—to discuss this. The baby can go home with you tomorrow if that’s what you decide. I recommend putting her in the nursery overnight. Silver, you need to take it easy. I don’t want to see any more of those spikes. The cardiologist can tell us more. I’ll send him in as soon as he’s available.”

The doctor walked out, the nurse following as soon as she gave the baby to Dean. He cradled the baby, standing close to Landon as he sat on the edge of the bed. Landon studied Silver’s face as she slipped her finger into their daughter’s tiny hand. He’d expected her to look a little scared, but her eyes were hard with determination.

“There’s nothing to discuss. Becky, can you stay at Dean’s place a little longer? Help Landon and Dean with the baby in case . . . ?” Silver laughed even as Becky nodded. “Okay, we have to stop calling her ‘the baby.’ I’ve been thinking about names.” Her eyes filled with mischief as she peered up at Landon. “How about something vintage and hip, like Rainbow?”

Landon stared at her, his own fear momentarily forgotten, not sure why Dean was chuckling.
Rainbow?
“Please tell me you’re joking?”

“You have to ask?” Silver giggled as Landon continued to stare. “We all agreed on Lucie—after my grandmother—as a middle name if it was a girl, but I was so sure she was a boy, all I’ve got as a first name is Adam, after your dad. You were right, so you get to pick.”

His ex hadn’t considered letting him have anything to do with naming their baby until they’d lost him. He took a deep breath, feeling ridiculous as tears stung his eyes yet again. Silver had already given him so much. He hadn’t thought he could love her more, but at that moment, his heart was bursting with all she was to him. More precious than his own life.

“Silver, I love you. I love you so much.” He kissed her, then smiled against her lips. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and ran it by Dean not long ago . . . what do you think of Amia?”

“Amia Lucie Bower.” Silver cocked her head, then struggled to sit up, pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead. “I love it. And I love you. Love you both . . . my baby’s daddies.” She blinked fast, her voice breaking. “If I have to come back, promise me you’ll keep her away from here? Keep her home, sing her lullabies, rock her to sleep. You and Dean spoil her rotten. And have Jami spend time with her. Jami’s like her sister now.” Her eyes drifted shut, but she seemed to struggle to keep them open. The lines on the heart monitor rose and fell slower, but the rhythm seemed off. “I want her to be close to her family.”

The door cracked open. Ford cleared his throat. “I . . . ah—”

“Hey, you,” Silver said, without opening her eyes. “I thought you took off when Zach left.”

“Naw, I stuck around.” Ford took a deep breath, swallowing hard. “I’ll leave if you—”

“Don’t,” Silver mumbled, close to drifting off again. “Say hello to your niece. And . . . call Oriana? Amia needs to know our side of the family too.” She let out a soft sigh. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Ford inched closer to Dean. “Amia. Cute. She’s really pretty, Silver.”

Landon had never liked Ford, but after how he’d been with Silver the night before, he couldn’t deny that the man cared about his sister. That he’d earned the right to be involved in Amia’s life. But he wasn’t ready to let Ford hold her just yet. Apparently, neither was Dean. He looked at Landon, his eyes reflecting Landon’s thoughts as he let Ford give Amia a little pink stuffed kitten he’d probably picked up in the gift shop. Thankfully, things didn’t get awkward, because Ford didn’t look too keen on getting any closer to his niece. He looked a little afraid of her.

Knowing his daughter was being cared for gave him the time he needed to absorb the situation. He wouldn’t disturb her much-needed sleep, but as he lowered into the chair by her bed, he considered what she had asked of him.

“I can promise to do everything you asked, and more,
mon amour
,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over the soft, light golden stands of Silver’s hair, spilling over the pillow. “But I can’t keep her away. She needs you.”

Becky came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest. “She’ll be okay. Take this one step at a time. The three of you will take Amia home tomorrow. Once we know how Silver’s doing, we’ll talk to her about this. Make sure she knows it’s okay for Amia to come visit if she is admitted again.”

He nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. During the pregnancy, he’d seen how guilty Silver felt about the possible risks her past addiction could have on the baby. Amia being in the hospital when she didn’t have to be would just bring that all back.

His sister was right. One step at a time.

First step was bringing his family home.

G
od, I love this house!
Becky laughed just to hear the sound echo around her, off the walls of her
huge
living room, through the wide-open space of the dining room, and straight up to the second floor which held the bedroom of her dreams. The bungalow wasn’t all that big by most people’s standards, but with two and a half bathrooms, two bedrooms, a finished basement, and a roomy, fully-equipped modern kitchen, it couldn’t be more perfect. She tromped up the steps, so excited the two cans of pink paint and bag of supplies hardly weighed a thing. Plastic had already been laid out on the floor of the room that would be Casey’s. All she had to do now was tape along the ceiling and window frames to keep the crisp white paint clean.

The ladder was a bit of an issue though. The ceiling was much higher than she’d realized. She had no problem with heights, but for some reason, standing at the top of the ladder to apply the tape made the room twirl-a-whirl around her. Her legs seemed lopsided. She took a deep breath and slapped her hand on the wall to steady herself. Something solid latched on to her waist.

She screamed as she was swooped up into the air.

“I don’t ever want to see you doing something that dangerous again.” Zach’s voice in her ear made her shiver. She’d never heard that tone from him before—not anger, exactly, but edging on the brink. He latched on to her wrists, holding them at the small of her back, not letting her turn. “If you insist on doing things like this on your own, you’d better be careful.”

The submissive inside her wanted to do some kneeling and foot-kissing, but they were
not
in a scene. And she didn’t bend over for macho bullshit. “I
was
being careful!”

“Were you?” Zach released her, leaning an elbow on a ladder rung just a few steps down from where she’d been standing. His expression was controlled, but his tanned skin had taken on a grey cast. “So as soon as you felt dizzy, you were going to come down.”

“Not exactly—”

“That ladder is too short for you to reach the ceiling safely, but you planned to keep going. You’re here alone.” Zach’s jaw ticked. “If you’d fallen—if you’d
hurt
yourself—no one would have been here to help you.”

So that’s what this was all about. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out a very inappropriate giggle and clasped her hands behind her back to keep from throwing her arms around his neck. “Were you worried about me, Sir?”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you want to call me ‘Sir’ right now, little doe. How I’d handle this as your Dom is very different from how I’d—”

The giggle escaped this time. “That’s a yes! You were worried when you saw me up there! So worried you didn’t make a sound, just swept me off my feet like some . . . some damsel in distress . . .” Which suddenly didn’t seem funny anymore. “Zachary Pearce, I’ll have you know that I’ve painted, and climbed ladders, and even used a hammer, all without hurting myself! I enjoy your company, but I don’t want you getting the idea that I
need
you!”

“You’ve made that quite obvious, considering you didn’t call when you said you would.”

“I figured I’d kept you out long enough the other night at the hospital and you might be busy.”

Zach pressed his lips together in a tight smile, shaking his head slowly. Something about the intensity in his eyes flowed through her veins like accelerant, waiting for a match to be struck. He moved forward, invading her personal space, his lips grazing her cheek as he whispered. “Don’t make assumptions about me, Rebecca.”

It was very, very hard to breathe around the heat building between them. Damn it, she wanted to be mad, to draw a clear line between when she submitted to him, and life in general, but for some reason, she didn’t think the line was necessary.

But some clarification was. “What’s that supposed to mean? What assumptions have I made? That you were busy?”

“I told you I would come help you. I know very well that you don’t need me. The point is, I wanted to be here for you.”

She gritted her teeth, annoyed that he still hadn’t answered her question. “What. Assumptions?”

“I’m not Patrick.” He used the tip of his finger to tuck a loose strand of hair under the bandana on her head. “You don’t have to bank favors from me. And you didn’t ‘keep me at the hospital.’ I stayed because I wanted to stay, to be with you
in case
you needed me. Because sometimes, you will. And sometimes, I’ll need you. Isn’t that how a relationship works?”

That’s not how her relationship with Patrick had worked, but Zach was right. He wasn’t Patrick. Not even close. Patrick had never talked to her after she got pissed off. He’d either walked away or yelled back. They’d never had heated discussions or tried to work things out. She’d usually just given up because she knew he didn’t care.

It’s a little soon for Zach to care, don’t you think?

She studied his face, nibbling thoughtfully at her bottom lip. “Did I scare you?”

“More than I care to admit.” He grinned, latching one arm around the back of her neck and pulling her against his chest. “Don’t do it again.”

Sinking into his arms, she let herself forget how independent she was supposed to be. Having him to lean on, especially since she didn’t really need it, felt nice. And best of all, he’d come here in a faded grey T-shirt, and ripped up jeans,
ready
to work. Even though she hadn’t asked.

Hadn’t even given him the address, actually.

“How did you find me?” She considered moving away from him to look into his eyes for a split second, then stayed put. She really, really liked him holding her. Much better than yelling at him.

“I gave your brother a call.” Zach kissed her forehead, his hand sliding down her back as he shifted over a bit to take in the small room. “He gave me directions while thanking me a dozen times. Then had me speak to your mother. She told me Patrick used to make you do things like this on your own. That having him take out the garbage was a big deal. According to her, being with him was like having another child.”

Very true. An ungrateful, miserable child who’s sweet only when they want something.
She shrugged. “Most men are like that.”

“None of the men I’ve been with.”

Strange that he could say that so matter-of-factly. Then again, some said all the good ones were gay. But she didn’t believe that. Being bisexual did give Zach a unique perspective though. “I guess you’ve got better taste in men than I do.” She gave him a sly smile. “Maybe you could hook me up with one?”