Stephanie leaned against her side with a book open across her lap, her finger tracing each word as she worked her way through the page. Ziggy didn’t rush her through it. She let Stepanie take the time she needed, stepping in only when she got stuck, keeping her moving without taking over.
When Steve shifted, just enough to press his weight differently against her, Ziggy adjusted her leg. She smoothed her hand over his hair before returning to the page, her voice steady, quiet enough that it fit the room instead of filling it.
Noah watched her, aware of how his chest tightened with an ache he’d always had the ability to ignore—until now.
He’d spent years building a version of this in his head that didn’t include him. A version where she had this life, this kind of quiet, this kind of family, without everything that came with being tied to him. It had been easier to believe in that fantasy than to admit he hadn’t trusted himself to hold on to the dream.
Jag set his glass down on the counter beside him, the sound soft but enough to pull Noah back into the kitchen.
“You planning on doing something about that," Jag said. It wasn’t a question, or even a statement, it was more like an order, “or are you just going to keep staring as if you don’t fit in there with her?”
Noah let out a breath that edged into a chuckle. He tipped his glass slightly. “I’ve been working on it.”
“Working on it? Or hiding from it? Because from where I’m standing, you still don’t have both feet all the way in the water.”
Noah rolled the glass between his palms, condensation slick against his fingers. “You’re wrong there. Both feet are in it.” He glanced back toward the couch, watched Ziggy shift the book so Stephanie could see it better. “I love your sister. I have for a very long time.”
“I know that.”
Noah’s grip tightened slightly around the glass. “I’m just worried.”
“About what?” Jag asked as if nothing bad was happening in the background.
“You’re really asking me that question?” He stared at Jag.
“I am, because I honestly don’t get it.”
“Everything tied to me doesn’t stay contained. It spills. And when it does, it hits hard. Then it spreads, getting thicker and deeper like quicksand. And she’s stuck right in the middle of it.”
Jag pushed off the counter and straightened. “Ziggy can handle gossip.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Noah set down his glass, the weight of the words settling heavy on his tongue as he formed them. “It’s what happens when my father decides to clue me in on whatever the game is and how the outcome will affect her.”
“It’s not for you to decide what Ziggy is prepared to handle, or not.”
“I learned that the hard way,” Noah said. “But I’ve spent most of my life trying to stay ahead of what I’ve always known would eventually happen. I need to make sure the damage stops with me.”
“And you think being with her changes that?” Jag asked.
“It’s certainly given him a target and a new way to get at me. One he’s never had before. The only power he’s ever had was my identity. Being with Ziggy gives him a new way to get me to react to his manipulations in a way I never would’ve have before.”
Callie stepped into the kitchen before Jag could respond. “The kids need to go upstairs,” she said, glancing toward the family room.
Noah shifted his gaze.
Steve’s head had tipped backward on Ziggy’s thigh, and his mouth was slightly open. Stephanie was barely holding on, her eyelids drifting shut as she tried to stay away for the last few pages of the story.
“I’ll take Steve, the dead weight, you get the princess.” Jag took another quick sip before crossing into the family room. He bent and slid one arm under Steve, lifting him carefully againsthis shoulder. The kid stirred just enough to make a soft sound before settling again.
Callie crouched beside Stephanie, brushing her hand over her hair. “Time for bed, little one.”
“Okay.” Stephanie blinked slowly and leaned into her mother, letting herself be guided up.
Ziggy shifted, lifting the little girl into Callie’s arms, and in a flash, Jag and Callie were climbing the stairs.
Noah leaned against the counter, taking another pull from his drink, his mind wandering to places he hadn’t thought about. He’d never thought, not even in his twenties, that he’d want a family. It wasn’t that it hadn’t crossed his mind, but for Noah to cross that road, he’d either have to lie to his partner or tell her the truth.
But now…with Ziggy… He no longer had a valid reason to spend the rest of his life alone.