“You like it?”
“It’s delicious.” She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “It’s the best homemade spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.”
A knot of tension inside him dissolved. “You should try my lasagna.”
Listen to you. Who’s cocky now?
“Feel free to make it for us anytime. Seriously.” There was a sparkle in those green eyes that hadn’t been there when she’d gotten home.
Jesse could see she’d been crying. Her puffy eyes told him that. He knew how fucking much it hurt to want desperately to save a life—only to find yourself helpless. And when that life was a child’s…
Don’t go there, buddy.
She seemed to relax as she ate, shaking her head at the mess the twins made of themselves, spaghetti sauce on their faces from ear to ear. “Sometimes I wonder if they’re getting any food into their tummies.”
Jesse glanced under the table. “I can see why you worry.”
Between the sauce on their faces and fingers—and the pasta on their bibs and the floor—it hardly seemed like they could have eaten enough to survive.
As they finished the meal, Jesse found himself wondering what it would be like to have a wife and kids, to sit down like this with them for dinner every night, to spend the evening with a family.
You’re out of your fucking mind.
He wasn’t a family man. The fact that he’d survived a handful of hours with two toddlers didn’t change that. Besides, no woman in her right mind would want to take him on. He was only here because he had wanted to do his part. In fact, it was probably time for him to pack up his stuff and go home.
But he didn’t. As the hours stretched on, he kept finding reasons to stay. Helping Ellie with the dishes. Playing dump truck with Daniel while Ellie gave Daisy her bath. Holding Daisy and reading her a story while her brother was in the tub, her blond head resting trustingly against his chest, one little hand wrapped around his finger, the sweet baby scent of her hair putting an ache in his chest.
He just couldn’t walk away from that.
When the kids were asleep, Ellie walked back out to the living room, somehow managing to look tired, sad, and beautiful at the same time.
He stood. “Do they sleep all night?”
“Usually.” She took his hand. “You did really well with them. I’m impressed.”
“They’re sweet kids.” He was a little surprised to realize he meant that.
She stepped into his arms. “You were my hero today.”
Part of him was pleased by this. At the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anyone’s hero. He’d tried being a hero before—and had failed.
She looked up at him. “Do you want to stay for a while?”
What he wanted was space, a little air, some time alone.
He drew away. “Not tonight. I’ve got to be up at four.”
“Oh. Right. I probably ought to go to bed soon anyway. Thanks to a certain someone—that would beyou—I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
So he wasn’t the only one. He liked that.
* * *
Jesse tried to run, whitewater crashing against his thighs, dragging him down, making it almost impossible to move.
The child screamed, arms flailing, her terrified eyes looking into his for a moment before the creek rolled her over like a toy and swept her beyond his reach.
He ran as fast as he could, but it was so hard, water slowing his legs, making him fight for every inch. He reached for her again—and again the creek took her.