Shattered Heart: A Single Dad Romantic Suspense

by Lara Norman

“Oh, ew. I didn't need to know that.”

  “Bye, son!” Don called from the staircase.

  Mildly disgusted, Devon followed slowly. He made a sandwich and ate standing at the sink, feeling just like a bachelor. If Hailey woke up sick, he’d deal with it. Nothing else he could do.

  “Daddy?”

  He turned to find her in the doorway; her cheeks were flushed, her hair matted to her face with sweat. Fuck.

  “How do you feel?”

  “My belly hurts.” She sat at the table, laid her head on her arm.

  He rested his palm on her forehead, knowing she would be burning up before he touched her. “Sorry, kiddo, but it looks like Brandon gave you the stomach flu.”

  She moaned. “I want to go back to sleep.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Nodding, she stood. He trailed along behind her and waited for the other shoe to drop because he knew it would. He gave her something for the fever and hoped it would work before she threw it up.

  If he thought they would make it through the night without too much trouble, he was sorely mistaken. By eleven, he ended up camped in the bathroom with Hailey, helping her each time she got sick. He’d pulled her hair back from her face up into a quick bun and he bathed her face with a cool washcloth. She slept fitfully with her head on his lap, only to startle awake and lean over the toilet. The fever he couldn't treat worried him. She would just throw up whatever he administered.

  By the time the sun came up, they were both exhausted. Hoping for the best, he left her in the bathroom to find his sanity in the bottom of a cup of coffee. By the time he got back, she was throwing up again.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

  “S’okay.”

  They continued that way for the better part of the day. She dry heaved when there was nothing left in her, and each time he urged her to swallow a few drops of water, she’d lose that, too. He grew frustrated, bleary-eyed, and wished his daughter wasn't in pain. He spent time on the phone with his mother, who assured him it just needed to run its course unless her fever got too high, and to continue trying with the water.

  Late that afternoon, she finally rested her head on the side of the tub and dozed. Frowning over the entire situation, he wished he had backup. Just an hour of sleep would be life changing at the moment. He didn't want to risk infecting Caleb, who would in turn infect Lori and Maisie, so he was out. His parents were enjoying Los Angeles by then, more power to them.

  It was there in the back of his mind. Her name glowed like a neon sign, the words of his brother and father circling. He didn't want to impose on her though. He had no right to ask it of her. They weren't even really friends. There were a million reasons he could think of to dissuade him from calling Chloe.

  He pulled up her number in his phone, snorted because he never thought he’d actually use it, and hit the button.

  What was he thinking?

  It rang twice before she picked up. “Devon?”

  She sounded as shocked as he felt. “Um, yeah. Hi.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  How pathetic was he that she automatically assumed something was wrong? And yet, she was right. “Sort of. It’s just that Hailey is really sick and I’m here alone.”

  “Do you need to take her to the doctor?”

  “No, not right now, at least. She picked up Brandon’s stomach flu.”

  She tutted. “Oh, the poor lamb. How can I help?”

  The fact that she offered before he had to ask caused his shoulders to relax. “I could use some company, that's all.”

  “Sure. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  He had second thoughts as soon as they hung up. He shouldn't have asked. He shouldn't have even called her to begin with. He didn't know her that well, they weren't even friends, and he didn't know what he’d been thinking.

  The doorbell rang, and he sucked in a breath. He could do this. He could accept her help, lean on her, and be friendly. He kind of always did, anyway. He’d find out if there was any truth to what Caleb had said. He’d find out if there was any interest on her side. And then what? His head swam with all the crazy possibilities as he opened the door.

  He realized with a jolt how good she looked as she stood on the threshold. He stepped back and let her in, noting she carried an enormous bag.

  “I brought some things I had at home.”

  “Thanks.”

  He followed her to the kitchen, realizing she knew her way around. She set her bag down and began pulling items out Mary Poppins-style. She had an electrolyte drink, crackers, a box of chamomile tea, and a frozen dinner.

  “This is for you.” She held out the cold box. “I’m sorry it’s not more manly, but you eat this and I’ll check on Hailey.”

  “I . . . she’s in the upstairs bathroom off the hall.”

  Chloe nodded and took off. He watched her go, wondering if there was any chance he could be attracted to her.

  He stood in the kitchen watching the meal revolve in the microwave. Chloe reappeared, scaring the shit out of him.

  “I tucked her in bed. She said she hasn't thrown up in a little while, but I left her trash can right by her head in case she can’t make it to the bathroom.”

  “Thanks for coming.” The microwave beeped before he could say anything else.

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge for each of them, he sat at the table. She joined him, and for a minute they were silent.

  “I’m glad you called, Devon.”

  Trying to read her mind, he glanced up. He didn't have Lori’s talent in that area. “I feel like I impose on you too much as it is, but I didn't know who else to call. I just need a minute that doesn't revolve around worrying over Hailey.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  They heard footsteps hurrying across the floor above them and rose at the same time.

  “I’ve got her. You eat.”

  Devon couldn't be sure if it was the right move, but he listened. It was what he wanted when he called her, after all. It was just that he ended up sitting there alone again.

  He knew he’d had blinders on. Clearly, the world had turned while he remained frozen. What he didn't know was how to get back on the carousel of life.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When he’d finished eating, Devon found Chloe upstairs sitting in a chair she’d dragged next to Hailey’s bed. His daughter was asleep, thankfully. Chloe had a book open in her lap; he had no idea where she’d gotten it from. Maybe her magic bag.

  “Chloe?” he murmured.

  She put one finger in her book and looked up at him. He gestured for her to follow him and then went down the stairs. When they were both in the living room, he spoke again.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he joked.

  “I promise I’m usually a better cook.”

  Devon chuckled and sat on the couch. She sat at the far end and angled to face him.

  “She didn't throw up that time, but she thought she was going to.”

  “That’s a relief.” He ran his hands over his eyes. “I’m just so tired. We were up almost all night.”

  “Do you want to get some sleep?”

  “Yes, but I thought I’d stay here with you for a little while. That's why I called you, after all.”

  “To entertain me when you can’t keep your eyes open?” She stretched her legs out and rested her head on the back of the couch.

  “Actually, yes.” He continued when Chloe raised her eyebrows. “I realized I don't want to be alone. I guess it’s a neurosis, technically, to not be comfortable alone. I haven't had an issue with it in about five years, but now it makes me very anxious.”

  “You know whatever you’re feeling is okay, right? No matter how you feel, as long as it’s not suicidal, it’s okay to take a minute and be okay with it.”

  “Tell me honestly, how do you know so much about this?” He observed the reluctance when she looked away from him, started to s
ay she didn't have to tell him.

  “I was in therapy for many years.”

  His voice rose in surprise. “You were?”

  Nodding, Chloe met his gaze again. “I was ten. I remained in therapy until I was sixteen, and then I went back when I was twenty-one.”

  “Are you . . . are you in it now?”

  She shook her head. “I realized very quickly what I’d been doing that was bad for my mental health. I already had the tools to move on and improve myself, I simply had to implement them.”

  “Uh, the boyfriend?” She’d said she went too far with him and had to hit the brakes before she embarrassed her father.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever talk about what happened to necessitate therapy at such a young age?” He couldn't think of a more polite way to ask what made her need that kind of help at ten.

  “No. But I’ll tell you.”

  “Only if you’re sure. You don't have to open up old wounds.”

  Taking a deep breath, she reached over to touch the back of his hand. “I want to.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “I had a younger brother.”

  At that declaration, he bit his tongue to hold in the questions that crowded his head. Automatically, his thoughts went to his daughter up in her room.

  “Mom was told she’d never have any children after me. I gave her considerable complications, and my parents were happy not to go through that again. Unfortunately, life sometimes has other ideas.”

  He didn't think she realized she rubbed her thumb over his hand, but more surprising was how much he enjoyed it. “So, you had a brother.”

  “Yes. Leo. I was five when he was born. I was jealous, as kids tend to be. I thought he received more attention than I had in my entire life. Mom stayed home with him while I went to school, and he had her all to himself. I hated him.” She wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek.

  “Do you want to make some coffee, or some of that tea you brought?”

  Chloe nodded, stood. “I could use a minute.”

  He gave her that minute and then some. He made coffee because it felt like it would be a long night while she made tea. They moved around the kitchen in companionable silence, and Devon didn't hate it. When they were both holding steaming mugs, they sat back down on the couch.

  “I struggled through my early school years. I wanted more of Mom’s attention. Dad was about to be promoted back then, and he was never home. I resented Leo for being this tiny monster who stole my toys and our parents’ limited time.” She took a breath, took a sip.

  “And something tells me this story doesn’t have a happy ending.” He set his coffee on the side table and moved closer to her. Otherwise, he’d have been introduced to Leo by now.

  “No, I can’t say it does. Um.” Chloe sucked in a breath. “The summer right before I turned ten, we went on a camping trip. It was the first time Mom and Dad could get time off together. Leo was enrolled in kindergarten, and it was all he could talk about. I kept telling him to shut up. Those are the last words I said to him.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.”

  Before she could drop it, he took her cup from her hands, pulling her into his arms and holding on tight. She hiccuped into his shoulder and wept for the terror of losing her brother.

  “You don't need to tell me the rest. I can pretty much figure it out.”

  “No.” She tipped back to see his face. “I want to tell you.”

  His stomach knotted. “Are you sure?”

  Chloe nodded. “It’s relevant. You see, he went missing overnight.”

  A warning bell went off in Devon’s head. That was relevant, all right. He didn't think he had the courage to picture what must have happened so close on the heels of what almost happened to Hailey. “I don’t know if I can handle hearing this.”

  “Okay.” She sniffed, sat back. “Okay, I respect that. Let me just say I understand what you went through. Mom understood you during Hailey’s disappearance. She knows how to put it behind her when it’s important, so she can do the job. But me, I can’t put it behind me so easily. I needed to help. I had to.”

  Because her brother never came back home to annoy her and steal her toys. “It explains how you know so much about therapy, and family dynamics, and why my screwed up ass needs help.”

  “I know enough to see how you’d benefit from it even now that you’re better. I considered going myself after Hailey was found because it brought up old wounds. I was jealous, Devon.”

  Shock rippled through him. During the most trying time of his life, she was jealous of him? “Jealous?”

  “And so, so angry, because your five-year-old came home. If not sound, she was safe. My brother didn't. And it’s not fair or right to feel that way, but I worked through it. Being helpful was a balm as much as payment for my feelings.”

  “And it caused you to push relentlessly until I agreed to therapy,” he said in mild annoyance.

  Chloe chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  For several minutes, he remained silent and thought about what she’d said. It felt as if she’d gravitated toward Hailey for some unknown reason and, to a point, it was true. It never occurred to him it was because she’d been through something similar.

  So Caleb was wrong. Chloe wasn’t there because she had feelings for Devon, it was because she felt the need to help Hailey. He couldn't fault her for that. He also couldn't explain the feeling forming in his gut with the realization.

  “I’m going to check on Hailey.” Before she could respond, he stood and left the room.

  Hailey was in bed asleep, as she’d been the last time he was up there. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, but failed. He should send Chloe home. Now it felt as if he was taking advantage of old grief to keep her there to help him out. He figured he should try harder to find his own place, to move on with Hailey and be content to have such a close relationship with his family.

  And nothing more than that.

  He heard a noise behind him and spun to find Chloe in the doorway. “Is she okay?”

  Devon nodded. “I think I should wake her to give her something to drink, see if it stays down.”

  Chloe wrinkled her forehead. “She does need fluids, but do you really want to wake her?”

  He glanced back at his daughter. “No, but I think it’s for the best.”

  “Okay. I’ll bring her a drink.”

  Devon sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Hailey’s forehead. She was hot, but not as much as before. “Bug.”

  She mumbled, shifted her head.

  “Hailey, let’s get something to drink. Okay?”

  She opened her eyes and nodded sleepily. “Where’s Chloe?”

  Devon grumbled lightly. “Not even happy to see your dad, huh?”

  Hailey just stared at him.

  “Here, sweetpea.” Chloe came into the room with a glass of pale blue liquid.

  Hailey took it and was just about to gulp it when Devon put a restraining hand on the glass. “Go slow. Just a little until we know if you're done throwing up.”

  Hailey took a tentative sip and let Devon set the glass on her nightstand.

  “How do you feel?”

  Her voice was raspy when she answered. “Better.”

  Devon moved to sit in the chair and let Hailey lay back on the bed. She closed her eyes, and he watched to see if the Gatorade would stay down.

  Chloe sat on the foot of the bed, and he was tempted to tell her she could leave. However, he didn't want to be rude, and he didn't want to say anything in front of Hailey.

  After some time, Chloe got up and left the room. Devon gave Hailey another sip and then let her rest.

  He found Chloe in the kitchen looking in the fridge. “If that stays down, I could make her some scrambled eggs and toast.”

  “Um, yeah, maybe the next time she wakes up.” He could make eggs and toast, but he didn't say that.

  She turned to face him as he stood in the archway. “A
re you okay?”

  He blinked a few times. “Me? Yes.”

  She leaned casually against the countertop. “You seem different since we talked.”

  “Do I?” He should have known she’d see right through him. She was astute.

  “Hailey will be okay.”

  “Yes.”

  “So it’s me.”

  He let her statement hang in the air for a moment. “I don't want to take advantage of you, and knowing you feel the need to serve penance through my daughter—”

  “Whoa, when did I say that? Sure, at first, it was sort of like that. I never said I felt the need to continue atonements.”

  “You kind of did.”

  She put a hand up. “Look. If I didn't want to be here, I would have said no. You’re a smart guy; put two and two together, Devon.”

  He watched Chloe walk out of the room. He felt the need to follow her, to occupy the same space. It wasn't the first time he’d felt that way in her presence. She wanted to be there, then. Frustrated, he scrubbed a hand through his hair and went after her.

  “I’m sorry I suck at this so much.”

  “We should talk about something else,” she responded.

  They sat, picked up drinks gone mostly cold, and found they had more in common than they thought. From books, to movies, to music, they found plenty to discuss. Devon suddenly realized how late it had gotten, and how close Chloe sat to him, as their conversation lagged. They sat side by side with their feet propped on the ottoman. Chloe hadn't said anything in several moments, but he was afraid of disturbing her. He assumed she was asleep by the gentle way her chest rose and fell with each quiet breath. He risked shifting to look down at her face, and she shifted in response. He froze, arms raised and panic racing through him. She would either leave or slug him, he was positive.

  Chloe did neither. Instead, she curled her hand and rested it on his chest, then crept over until her head was there, too. He tilted his head to look at her in utter confusion. She slept, he was sure of that. He didn't touch her, just stretched his arms out along the back of the couch.

  He couldn't believe his heart pounding out of his chest didn't wake her. He felt . . . baffled. He’d thought she didn't want to be near him, only Hailey. She’d basically told him to get a clue, but he honestly hadn't thought she meant . . . this. This was more than what he’d expected or thought about in years. It was the feeling of comfort, contentment, a sense of belonging that frankly scared the shit out of him.