by BJ Harvey
He frowns. “Why not? I was there tonight. I see the same things you do. I know just how hard it is to put aside your own feelings and fears and emotions and get on with the job. And I want to help you through this so I can see you smile that beautiful smile of yours.”
Feeling my control on my tears slip, I push up on my toes and press my lips to his. Cohen lets me lead the kiss, as if he knows I’m about to lose it and need the distraction.
When we finally pull apart, his eyes are no less soft and caring, the look making my stomach flip.
“Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll go upstairs and get you a change of clothes,” he says.
“Okay. But I’m happy to steal one of your tees.”
His lips curve up, and he nods. “Fine by me.”
The shower is unlike any I’ve had before, one where there is no groping or touching with intent. Cohen even washes and conditions my hair for me. Granted, he uses his boy shampoo, but at the moment, with his fingertips massaging my scalp and the hot water streaming down over my body, I don’t care.
Hopping out, he won’t even let me dry myself. When I moan as he rubs the towel over my skin, he shoots me a cheeky grin. I almost get my hopes up that it’s leading somewhere, but they’re dashed when he wraps me up and tells me to help myself to whatever clothes I want. I opt for a clean pair of underwear from my work bag and a Foo Fighters concert tee I find in Cohen’s top drawer.
I’m sitting on the bed cross-legged when he comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. This entire situation is so domesticated, it’s kind of scary, but in a nice, unexpected way. It’s definitely not how I saw my Christmas morning going, that’s for sure.
He crosses the room and grabs a pair of boxer shorts, dropping the towel and pulling them up. He turns my way. “Get under the covers and get comfortable, babe.”
I frown, half expecting him to join me. Instead, he leaves the room. Soon after, there’s rummaging from the kitchen and the sound of his microwave-oven turning on. A few minutes later, he walks back into the bedroom with a mug and plate in his hand.
When he reaches my side, he almost looks a little sheepish. “I know it’s not much, but whenever any of us kids would feel bad, Mom would make us a hot chocolate.” He holds out the cup, and I take it from his hand.
“And toast?” I ask, nodding to the plate.
“You always have strawberry jam on toast after a night shift, so I may have grabbed some with my groceries this week and—”
He needs to stop being so damn sweet. “Cass, can you say something to piss me off? You’re being too nice.”
He shakes his head and puts the plate on the nightstand beside the bed. “Nope. Not today.” He waits until I’ve put down the hot chocolate before crawling over me and slipping under the comforter. “I promise I’ll annoy you double tomorrow,” he says, looking up at me with a grin.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He reaches out and nabs the TV remote from beside him. “Wouldn’t expect anything less. Now eat your toast and relax.”
“But I said I’d talk.”
“And you can,” he says, channel surfing like a pro. “Once you’ve eaten.”
“Bossy, much,” I mutter, grabbing the plate.
“You like it; don’t lie.”
I lock eyes with him and rip off a piece of toast with my teeth like an animal. “Hmmpy noo?” I ask around a mouthful of food.
He chuckles and carries on with his TV perusal. “Yup. Don’t forget the hot chocolate too.”
“Hmmph,” I growl half-heartedly.
“Back-chatting won’t get breakfast eaten any faster, brat.”
I lift my brow. “Thought you weren’t going to piss me off.”
Cohen wisely doesn’t answer, but thankfully he does find something to watch. Nothing says Christmas like Hans Gruber falling off a skyscraper in Die Hard.
When I’ve finished my food, I pull back the covers, earning a hand on my back. “Where are you going?”
I move to my backpack, grabbing out my toiletries bag I keep there and hold it in the air. “Brushing my teeth.”
His expression goes soft again, and I have to look away ’cause it’s too much. He’s being too nice, and it’s perfect, but it’s also a bit unexpected. Cohen is sometimes sweet, sometimes a smartass, and all the time sexy, but being all three and thoughtful and doing something a boyfriend would do? Today, it’s too much for me and my snowflake emotions to handle.
I close the bathroom door and do what I need to do. Once I’m done, I walk out and hop back in the bed.
Before I can get comfortable, Cohen hooks an arm around my shoulders and guides me down onto my side, turning over to face me.
“Hi,” he says, pulling me close.
“Hey.”
“Comfortable?”
“Meh, been worse,” I say with a shrug.
“Tired?”
“Co…”
He lifts his hand and starts rubbing my back. “If you’re tired, we can sleep. There’s absolutely no rush.”
“I want to tell you.” And I do. It’s something I haven’t told anyone outside of my family, but Cohen isn’t just anyone… not anymore.
His hand on my back moves in slow up and down glides now, relaxing me more than I’d thought possible after our shift.
“You said how cases with kids are hard. Well, they are—for everyone obviously—and I’m usually okay.”
“But tonight, you weren’t.”
“No. It’s just that tonight was the first time working on a patient that reminded me so much of Penny, and they both have nut allergies.”
Cohen’s eyes gentle, his strokes softer and slower now, making me so lax I want to melt into the mattress and make it my new home.
“I can see how that would rattle you. I’d be the same if it was me seeing a boy like Harry or Ax, or Abi’s baby girls.”
“Yeah. The other thing I think made it more real for me—the only thing I can come up with—is probably some instinctual biological response.”
The hand on my back stills and I watch as realization mixed with a tinge of confusion hits. “Is Penny your daughter?” he asks quietly.
“No… well biologically, yes, but that’s it. I was an egg donor, but that’s only because the state doesn’t allow twenty-one-year-old women to act as gestational surrogates without having had at least one child of their own, amongst other things.”
“Wow.” He resumes massaging my back again as if encouraging me to continue.
“I’m her godmother, and when she’s older, she’ll know how she came to be and the part I played in that, but for now, I’m the main female influence in her life so I’m Aunty Skye and we have regular girly dates when Dion and Vin want a night out or even a dirty staycation in a hotel.” I shrug. “I’m just Skye to her, and to me, she’s my world.”
“I bet you’re her world too.”
I smile, and just talking about it makes me feel lighter. With everything Cohen has done for me since that call, I finally feel like I could sleep freely now.
“Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with this,” he says. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll believe anything is possible.
I cup his jaw and lift my head, touching my mouth to his. “Thank you for being you,” I whisper, and I feel his lips curve up against mine.
I lay my head back against the pillow. We stare into each other’s eyes, comfortable silence stretching between us.
“I can go home and sleep there, then you can go to your parents’ and not miss out on Christm—”
“Babe, I’ve already texted Mom and said I won’t make it today.”
I open my mouth to object, but he presses his index finger against my lips, stopping me in my tracks.
“No, Skye. I saw them yesterday before our shift, and Mom knows I’ll catch up with her tomorrow.”
“But they’re you’re family. They’re important,” I whisper.
“And so is staying with you and making sure y
ou’re okay. I told Mom and texted everyone else. They know we had a tough call, and they’ve seen me through them in the past. This time, you and I are going to see it through together.” He must see acquiescence in my eyes before he drops his finger and pulls me in closer to him. “I also called Marco before we left the station and told him all about it. I said I was going to keep an eye on you.” I freeze, and Cohen’s arm draped over my waist tenses. “I didn’t say I’d be sleeping next to you and holding you like this,” he says with a small smirk, and I huff out the breath I was holding. “But I did say you’d call him after you’d woken up to touch base. He’s going to tell the others, so knowing Mama Rossi, it would pay to call her later too.”
My body relaxes into him. He rolls onto his back and pulls me with him, nestling my head into the crook of his neck, something I’ve learned is his preferred sleeping position when we’re sharing the bed.
“So you’ve thought of everything,” I say with a yawn.
“Yep, and now you’re going to bed, and you’re going to sleep.”
“Okay,” I mumble, and that’s the last I remember.
I wake around lunchtime, rolling over and finding the bed empty beside me, although I can hear Co talking to someone.
Pushing up on my elbows, I look through to the living room, but I still can’t see him.
“Thanks for coming over, Mom. You could’ve just sent one of the guys.”
“And miss seeing my baby boy on Christmas Day? Not going to happen, Co. Pass on my love to Skye, and don’t worry—your secret is safe with me.”
I freeze, my eyes bugging out and my mouth gaping open as I realize Marcy knows I’m here.
“It’s not like that, Mom.”
“It should be. I’ve always thought you two would make a good couple.”
“Mom…” he groans. “You’ve had enough weddings for one year, don’t you think?”
“And you’re my last one to get married off. A mother’s work is never done, but it’s definitely not done until her children have found happiness.”
“Love ya, Mom. See you tomorrow.”
“Love you too, Co,” Marcy says before the door shuts, and I quickly back down against the pillow.
The refrigerator opens and closes before Cohen comes into the bedroom and sits beside me.
“Hey. I guess Mom and I woke you.”
There’s no point denying it, so I don’t. “Yeah. I heard you talking.”
His eyes turn warm with amusement. “Good. So, I don’t have to tell you how my mom thinks she knows what’s going on but has no real idea, but she’s determined to play matchmaker regardless.”
I giggle because what else is there to do? “Sounds like Mama, except Mama seems set on you.”
Now it’s his turn to look shocked, but when I start laughing again, he soon joins me. “Remind me never to get our mothers together. Lord knows what they’ll come up with,” he says.
I hold up my little finger and twist it around his. “Pinky promise.”
“Now, are you hungry?” he asks. Coincidentally, my stomach lets out an almighty growl at the same time. “I’ll take that as a yes. C’mon, time to feed you.”
He stands and pulls back the covers, not missing the opportunity to check out my bare legs, something that always makes me smile.
“What’s for lunch?” I ask.
“Mom packed us a bit of everything, including apple pie for me to heat up later.”
“I think your mom is my new favorite member of the Cook family.” I sigh dreamily.
“Aww, and here was I thinking Ax had won you over for sure,” he says with a wink.
I nod. “Oh, he does. It goes your Mom, Ax, then you.”
“Well, at least I came in third,” he replies.
“Feed me, and I might bump you up to silver.”
“Then let’s move this to the couch, and we’ll see if I can dazzle you with my serving technique.”
“Dork.”
“Dork who likes seeing you smile again,” he says, stepping in and wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
“Thank you for just being with me this morning. You’ve given me exactly what I needed.”
“Anytime, Skye. But feel free to kiss me too.”
“So damn boss—”
He swallows the rest of the word with his mouth and his tongue, and all I can do is hold on tight and enjoy the ride.
“Now,” he says, giving me a gentle tap on my ass, “you might want to put a pair of my workout shorts on over your underwear. We’ve got visitors coming soon.”
I tilt my head and scrunch up my forehead. “Visitors? Today?”
“Yep. And no, I won’t tell you who, because it’s a surprise. So chop, chop, brat. The food is waiting, and you know how I am with Mom’s cooking.”
I let out a loud sigh, and he leaves me standing there in his bedroom while he walks out, laughing as he goes.
“I call dibs on the pie!” I call out.
“Good luck with that.”
Dammit. Knowing he’s not joking about liking his mother’s food, I quickly go to the bathroom again, then nab a pair of Cohen’s shorts, and hurry out to save my share of lunch.
Twenty minutes later, we’re lying on the couch, my back to Cohen’s chest, watching Die Hard 2, when there’s a knock at the door.
I twist my neck to look back at him. “Our mysterious visitors?”
“Yep,” he says, pushing up and over me, pressing a light kiss to my lips before getting to his feet and looking down. “You might want to sit up.” His smile is all-knowing, and it’s making me suspicious.
But all thoughts escape me when he opens the door, and a three-foot ball of energy comes running straight for me, wrapping her arms around my neck and bouncing into my lap. “Skye!”
“Penny!” I say, tears stinging my eyes. She snuggles her head into the crook of my shoulder, and I squeeze her tight. I catch Dion and Vinnie standing just inside the door, both smiling at me, Dion’s eyes concerned.
Then I look at Cohen. His gaze is so intense, I swear I feel it deep inside me, making itself at home. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze, going stock-still at the realization that I’ve screwed up. I’ve let him in, and right now, he’s looking at me like he doesn’t mind, which is confusing me even more.
When Penny pulls back, I lock away the freak-out for later and look at my princess still happy sitting on her throne—aka my lap.
“Merry Christmas, Penny.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, my Skye.” The damn girl is gonna make me cry again.
I dip my head closer to hers. “Did Santa spoil you?” I say, earning chuckles from the three men in the room.
Penny doesn’t whisper, I don’t think she even has a quiet setting. “Yes! I got a Barbie Dreamhouse and more Barbies, and a play kitchen and Frozen stuff. Santa is so cool. He’s my favorite person ever.”
I glance up, and D and V are shaking their heads.
“Hang on, I thought I was your favorite person ever?” I ask.
“You’re my favorite girl ever. Santa is my favorite Santa ever. And Daddy and Papa are my favorite daddies.” Then she tilts her head and turns around to look at Cohen. “And I don’t know you, so you can’t be my favorite anything yet.”
Cohen barks out a laugh. I wonder if he’s seeing me differently now and if he’s looking at Penny and seeing the genetic similarities we share.
“Penny, this is my friend, Cohen,” I say. She jumps out of my arms and runs over to Cohen, shaking his hand. “I’m Penelope Skye Rossi, but you can call me Penny.” Without waiting for an answer, she makes a beeline for Vin.
I stand and join them, giving him a hug before moving to D. “Hey, trouble,” he says warmly in my ear. “You doing okay?”
I nod against his neck, letting his warmth sink in. “Yeah. I definitely am now.”
“He’s a good man,” he says, for my ears only.
“I know.”
Vin and Cohen are talking behind us and eve
n meeting these three for the first time, it’s like he’s known them all his life.
I pull away and meet Dion’s eyes, taking in his amused expression. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we turn to look at his husband, his daughter, and Cohen—my… whatever he is.
Then he dips his mouth to my ear and once again proves he knows me far too well.
“Girly, you’re screwed, and not in the hot and sweaty way.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s a good thing.”
“It’s a yet-to-be-determined thing,” I mutter, and he bursts out laughing. Thankfully, I’m saved by the princess running over to me and tugging on my hand.
“Skye, Co-win says there’s apple pie, and apple pie is my favorite. I think we should have some,” she says excitedly. “He even said he has ice cream, and ice cream is my favorite too.”
“Okay, Princess P, let’s go have a look.”
“Yay!”
We walk towards the kitchen, but first, I stop next to Cohen and place my hand on his chest, leaning up on my toes to kiss his cheek. His body stills, but I forge on. “Thanks, Cass.”
He turns his head and meets my eyes, and we stand there, having a moment I never thought we’d have. I vow to myself to show him my appreciation in other ways later.
“You’re welcome, brat.”
“C’mon, Skye. Apple pie!” the princess says, pulling on my hand, snapping me out of it.
Cohen’s eyes drop down to Penny, then back to me, his lips twitching. “I can totally see it now,” he says quietly.
“I’ll come with you,” Dion announces. “Someone has to make sure you don’t eat everything.”
“Let’s go,” Penny says.
We reach the kitchen, and when we’re out of earshot, D shoulder bumps me and laughs. “Totally fucking screwed.”
After everything Cohen did for me today, there’s absolutely no doubt in my terrified mind that I’ve broken the rules when it comes to our little arrangement.
He ditched his family on Christmas Day to stay with me.
He arranged for his Mom to bring us Christmas lunch.
Even after telling him about the egg donation and my closeness to Penny, he didn’t shy away or get put off by the fact I technically have a biological daughter who’s a very important part of my life. Instead, he stole my phone when I was asleep, cracked my password, and rang Dion.