Greer kicked, animatedly blowing little bubbles.
“That means yes.” Skylar glanced between Greer and him. “She’s taken with you.”
Kyle decided not to point out that, other than Frank, Greer’s world was made up of the people currently in this room. He preferred thinking Greer was taken with him, that he was the cause of all her smiles and coos and excitement. No one had ever seemed this happy to see him. It was gratifying as hell. “What’s not to like?” he teased, picking up Greer and cradling her close. “Now that I know I won’t drop her or break her, I think I’ve got this baby thing down.”
Skylar laughed. It didn’t last long and she sounded tired, but it still counted. “Glad to hear it.” She covered her yawn with the back of her hand. “Can I ask you to keep an eye on her while I bath the girls? I’ll get a bottle ready for you.”
Greer made a high-pitched happy sound that had Jet cocking his head to one side.
“Translation?” Kyle asked, glancing at Skylar.
“She said she’ll be very good and drink her bottle and not spit up on you or expect you to change her diaper.” Skylar opened the trash bag containing the girls’ belongings and started rifling through the contents.
“All that, huh?” Kyle bounced Greer a little. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to be so captivated by something so tiny and inarticulate, but he was. Every single time he scooped her up, he was struck by the slightness of her weight. The perfect little fingers that happily clasped on to his—which were giantlike in comparison—all the while with her grinning a toothless grin. The wisp of a curl on the top of her head only added to the whole elfin appearance. No, not elfin. She was too cute. More like a wingless fairy. Dainty and sweet and doll-like.
“Bath time.” Skylar directed the girls into the bathroom. “We’ll hurry, Kyle.”
“Don’t rush on my part.” He offered Skylar a reassuring smile. “Jet and I will keep a close eye on Greer.”
“Thank you.” Skylar’s gaze lingered on his face—almost disbelieving—before she pulled the door around, leaving it cracked in case he needed her.
You did good, Chad. Kyle smiled as he laid Greer on the bed. Your girls are precious. And Skylar... Well, Skylar would have made him so damn proud. He was proud of her. The thought struck him fast and hard in the throat. He had no right to feel anything for Skylar. She was Chad’s wife... Off-limits. Get your head straight.
Kyle didn’t know how she’d managed to raise the girls under those conditions—not just raise them but find ways to make them happy. No small feat when they’d had nothing but dirt, cacti, a crappy air conditioner, and leaning travel trailer while being beholden to a man who’d made a habit out of leaving them on their own to fend for themselves.
That was the part Kyle was struggling with the most. How could Frank Kline look himself in the eye? How could he live with himself, knowing he’d put his needs and wants ahead of these children? Not to mention stealing from Skylar.
“He’s a right old bastard,” Kyle said, using a happy singsong voice. “But you and Brynn and Mya and your momma won’t have to worry about mean old grumpy Uncle Frank ever again.”
Greer cooed and kicked out, grinning up at him.
Jet rested his chin on the edge of the bed, ears perked up, eyes fixed on Greer.
“I know.” He scratched Jet behind the ear. “She’s something, isn’t she?”
Jet’s tail thumped but he never took his eyes off Greer.
“She’s yours now, Jet.” He kept on scratching. “You and I, we need to keep an eye on her. And her sisters.” And Skylar, too. Though something kept him from saying as much out loud. It had been less than forty-eight hours. Surely feeling this...connected to a person wasn’t normal? Granted, the circumstances were highly unusual but still.
By the time the girls were bathed and in their pajamas, Skylar was drooping. She kept a smile on her face and a cheerful tone to her voice but it was taking effort. He left them long enough to collect Greer’s portable crib and a few needed baby supplies, then returned to find the twins in one of the big beds—heavy lidded and yawning.
He glanced at Mya. She seemed just fine. All smiles. All pink cheeked and smiling. It was almost like their trip to the ER hadn’t happened. But it had.
“Sleep tight and tomorrow we go to Kyle’s home,” Skylar said, pressing a kiss to Brynn’s forehead.
“Our home?” Brynn asked, yawning.
“Yep.” Kyle nodded, setting up Greer’s portable crib.
“More doggies?” Brynn asked.
“And cows and horses, too.” Kyle stood and smiled at the girls. “And my nephew, Weston, will be good company for you two to chase around. He’s a little younger than you but he’ll love having some playmates.”
“Go Kyle?” Mya asked, her voice soft.
Skylar used her hands as she said, “Yes. We’re going to Kyle’s house in the morning.” Then she pressed a hand to Mya’s forehead. “Okay?”
Mya nodded. “Good.”
Skylar leaned forward and pressed a handful of kisses against Mya’s temple. “Sleep.” She smoothed the hair from her daughter’s face and tapped her nose. “I love you.” She held up her hand. Both Mya and Brynn did the same. Kyle made a mental note of that sign, too.
“You want to take a shower?” he asked. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“No.” She peered down at Greer, smiled and changed the baby’s diaper in record time. “I’m fine.”
You’re not fine. He stood, staring down at her. “You’re not going to convince me that you’ll get any sleep tonight so I figure we should take shifts watching Mya? That way you’re not beat and we’re both somewhat upright tomorrow?”
Skylar stared up at him, frowning. “Kyle...” She drew in a deep breath. “Mya’s my daughter. It’s my job to take care of her, not yours.”
He nodded. “True.” And it was. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take help now and then.” He shrugged.
“You’ve been helping more than enough.” There was a slight edge to her voice then. Frustration? Irritation? She busied herself putting Greer into the crib, patting the baby’s back until Greer’s breathing steadied, then carried the near-empty bottle into the small kitchenette beyond the half wall partitioning off the bedroom.
Had he been pushing too hard? If he hadn’t pushed, she wouldn’t be here...and Mya wouldn’t have wound up in the ER. No, they’d still be stuck on Frank Kline’s property with no hope of getting out and no knowledge of the money Frank had been stealing each month. Maybe he had been a little too pushy but, dammit, he’d had no choice. And he didn’t regret it. He followed her, not sure what to say, but knowing something needed to be said.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Today... I didn’t know. Coconut... I should have known.” She shrugged, struggling to keep her voice steady. “It’s just...” The way her shoulders drooped did him in. “Mya—”
“Is one tough little girl.” He didn’t think as he pulled her into his arms. “Tough and sweet and fine. She is, Skylar. She will be.” His hold was loose—easy enough for her to pull out of. “Now we know. No coconut. Ever.” The we slipped out easily enough but the guilt that followed was near crippling.
Her laugh broke on a barely muffled sob. That sound, so garbled and raw, seemed to open the floodgates. With her arms tight around his waist and her face buried against his chest, she started to cry. Not a few tears. No, these were bone-racking sobs that demanded he hold her close for as long as she needed. They were hard and ragged, rolling over her until Kyle was certain she’d cried herself out. But the tears kept coming, just as desperate as when they’d started.
Deep down, he knew she’d been holding back. Her girls were her everything, and she’d never let her emotions go unchecked this way for fear of upsetting them. But how long had this been bottled up inside? All the fear and anger and grief? To
o long. After what happened today, she’d more than earned herself a good cry.
He rubbed her back, the sound of her struggle forming a vise around his chest. The grief in her tears twisted down the clamp, pressing in on him. “It’s okay now, Skylar. Let it out.”
“I—I—I’m f-fine...” Her long indrawn breath was ragged.
“You are.” He smiled in spite of himself. “But even if you weren’t, for a bit, that’d be okay, too. You tell me if you want me to let go?”
She nodded, her tears making the front of his shirt wet.
He kept rubbing her back, in long, slow strokes. He didn’t know if it helped her or not but it was helping him. There were times his guilt over Chad’s death damn near brought him to his knees. Like now. If he’d been more careful, done his damn job, Chad would be here and Skylar wouldn’t have been shouldering the weight of...everything. It was his fault she’d suffered like this for so long; the least he could do was give her a shoulder—or a shirt—to cry on. After seeing where she’d been living and what she’d been dealing with, he should feel guilty. Dammit. As long as he didn’t think about Frank Kline, everything he’d done, or Skylar and the girls’ prior living conditions, he could keep a cool head. But now that he was thinking about all of those things, he had to find a way to talk himself back into being the cool, calm presence she needed.
“Even the strongest people need a break now and then. It’s not a sign of being weak—it’s part of being human,” he murmured against her temple. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re a badass.”
She shook her head but didn’t say anything.
“Look at your girls,” he insisted. “You put those smiles on their faces. You found a way to keep them entertained and positive and with enough imagination to turn that leaning wooden shack into a playhouse—”
“Hey,” she interrupted, peering up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
“I was teasing.” He smiled. “You’re missing the point here.”
“Oh?” She didn’t seem fazed by the fact that she was still holding on to him—or that there was barely any space between them.
But he was. And it had him reeling. The moment her gaze met his, the tightness and pressure in his chest gave way. And having Skylar, in his arms, soft and warm and all woman, was something he hadn’t prepared himself for.
Focus. Not on the unnerving reaction Skylar was causing. No, on being here for Skylar and the girls. Focus on honoring Chad’s last request. Chad—who expected him to take care of the family he left behind, not get blindsided and want more than he should. How could he not? Skylar was a strong, beautiful woman who had his heart thumping in a way he didn’t recognize.
“Thank you, again.” Her gaze swept over his face before she rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Kyle Mitchell.”
Whatever Kyle had been thinking vanished and all that remained was Skylar, the softness of her lips and the desperate longing throbbing in his chest. For a moment, maybe a couple of seconds, the space between them sparked—pulling them closer and tripping up the too-quick beat of his heart. If he tilted his head, he could kiss her... And, right or wrong, there was no denying that’s exactly what he wanted to do.
Chapter Six
Skylar wasn’t sure which was worse: blubbering all over Kyle Mitchell’s shirtfront or the overwhelming comfort she found being in his arms. Wrapped up in his strength. His scent. His warmth. Like her own human security blanket. It had been a long time since she’d felt so at ease. So long that she couldn’t remember when that last was, let alone how good it felt... Before Mya’s illness. Before Greer’s birth. Before Frank showed up. Before Chad’s death. Her heart twisted, tighter and tighter until the tears threatened to start all over again. Staring at his chest was a far safer alternative to staring into his concerned eyes.
No. Enough. Kyle had just called her a badass. A real badass wouldn’t cry like a baby. Correction. Greer had never pulled the sort of fit she’d just had. Even though she knew Kyle was a good man, she couldn’t shake the lingering fear that—at any minute—Kyle would realize he’d made a cataclysmic mistake and return them to Uncle Frank’s doorstep.
“I really am fine now.” She didn’t sound fine but at least her voice wasn’t shaking anymore. Not that she was in any hurry to lose the comfort Kyle was offering up. Right or wrong, she wanted to hold on to this—to him—for a few seconds longer.
“Fine. Good,” he murmured, his voice deep and rich and soft.
The more her tears receded, the harder it was for Skylar not to pick up on things that she shouldn’t be noticing. Things like the way his scent tightened her stomach. How the slight press of his hand on her back seemed to urge her to arch into him. The brush of his every breath against her temple. The rapid thump of his heart beneath her cheek. The bunch and shift of his back muscles beneath her fingers... And the sheer breadth of his chest beneath his soft cotton T-shirt—a T-shirt that clung to his rock-hard pecs and was currently wet with her tears.
He was a soldier. Of course, he was strong. She drew in a deep breath. But the rest of it? The tightness and urges and...all of it? Well, she was pretty sure those were not the things he’d hoped to inspire when he’d offered her a shoulder to cry on. Maybe holding on to him was a bad idea. Maybe? Holding on to him was definitely a bad idea. “Kyle?” She cleared her throat, her gaze locked with his.
“Mm?” The sound was a rumble. Deep and gruff and...
She blinked, horrified to realize her gaze had wandered to his mouth. His mouth, which was so close. What is wrong with me? “I think you’re right,” she said, forcing herself to let go of him. “I think it’s been a long emotional day and it’s getting to me.” That was the only reason she was noticing all the ways Kyle Mitchell was manly and...handsome.
He immediately let her go and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It was one hell of a day.”
She managed a smile. “Thank you, again, for everything.” She shook her head. “There are times when words just don’t get it right, you know? Thank you is a nice enough term but it’s not enough to express how grateful I am to you—for everything.”
“Thank you works.” He smiled.
“Well, still...” She swallowed against the tightness of her throat. Handsome also didn’t get it right. Kyle was more than handsome. He was... It doesn’t matter. What mattered was how good he’d been to them. Above and beyond good to them. She headed back into the bedroom, suddenly panicked by the distance between her and Mya. She leaned forward, mentally chastising herself for leaving her daughter alone.
“It’s only been five minutes,” Kyle whispered. “She’s okay, Skylar.”
“I know. She’s going to be fine.” She smoothed the hair from her daughter’s face, her features smooth in sleep.
“Here,” Kyle said, dragging the chair from the corner next to the bed.
“Thank you.” She sat, smiling up at him. “I’m pretty sure Chad never imagined you’d wind up saddled with us...and everything.”
“Saddled, huh?” He shrugged, sitting on the still neatly made bed. “Chad was like a brother to me. Hell, we were closer than I am with the two brothers I have.”
She heard the edge to his voice and asked, “You’re not close?” Being an only child, she had no frame of reference. As a mother, seeing Mya and Brynn together made her heart happy. Not only were they sisters, they were the best of friends. If she’d had any siblings, she’d like to think they’d have been close like that.
He sighed. “I don’t really know them anymore. When I left things were...complicated.”
“Which is code for...” She stopped herself. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” At the same time, she didn’t relish arriving someplace loaded with tension. There was a chance the girls wouldn’t immediately take to their new home. Add two hostile men to the mix and this could all go horribly wrong in a matter of m
inutes.
“No. I’ve made peace with it.” Kyle ran a hand along the back of his neck, something she’d seen him do a time or two when he was tense or frustrated. “I owe my older brother, Hayden, some apologies for being...difficult.”
She frowned. Kyle? He’d been nothing but solicitous with her and the girls. “I’m having a hard time imagining you as difficult.”
“Oh, I can be.” He chuckled.
She shook her head. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t listen to him when he told me our stepfather was a piece of...” He glanced at the bed and her sleeping daughters. “He wasn’t a good guy. Our stepfather, Ed, I mean. Thinking back, I realize how hard I was on Hayden when he was just looking out for his little brothers.” He sighed. “At the time, it felt like he was trying to fill our father’s shoes—taking charge and holding us accountable for our actions while Ed let us do pretty much whatever we wanted. And once Ed picked up on the tension brewing between us brothers, he used that to convince us Hayden was being unreasonable because Hayden was jealous of him and taking it out on us.” His smile was sad. Reflective. “Ed just wormed his way in. He’d known how to spin the sweet talk and lay on the charm. He and Hayden went toe-to-toe the moment Ed walked in our front door.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck again. “All Hayden was trying to do was keep us from buying into a man who damn near bankrupted the ranch and left a mess behind.”
“Left?”
“He passed on a few years back.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck.
Skylar studied Kyle. The regret wore on him, it was plain to see. “Sounds like a straightforward apology will clear the air.”
His gaze shifted her way. “You think so? Seems too easy.”
She stared at Kyle for a long time, taking care with her words. Words, she knew, held power. “Chad said a lot of things about you, Kyle. One of them was that he hoped you’d find a way to fix whatever is broken between you and your brothers.” Maybe that was not exactly how Chad’s letter had read but she didn’t feel comfortable reciting it word for word since Chad had been a little more explicit about Kyle needing to get his head out of his ass and making things right with his family.
Their Rancher Protector Page 8