The sun is coming over the horizon when I hear the hushed whispers of children who are trying to be quiet in the other room. I blindly reach toward the other side of the bed where Mick was, but the sheets are cold and he’s gone. I get up, go brush my teeth and hair, and then I tiptoe toward the living room. Mick is holding Chase in his arms, giving him a bottle, and Roxy is next to him on the couch leaning on his arm, her chubby little thumb stuck between her lips. She’s watching TV as she dozes. Anna and Devon are at the tiny little kitchen table eating cereal.

“Good morning,” I say to them as I walk by.

They mutter something unintelligible in return.

“Morning, sunshine,” I say to Mick as I walk past him, heading for the tiny little coffee pot that’s in the makeshift kitchen.

“I think it’s still night,” he says, his voice scratchy and deep.

I part the blinds while my coffee perks. “No, the sun’s coming up.”

“And here I was hoping I could put them all back to bed. Dreams crushed. Thanks,” he says drolly.

“I didn’t hear a thing last night. Did they all sleep?

“Chase got up once.” He scrubs a hand down his face, trying to wake up.

“That’s not too bad.” I take my coffee mug and put it on the coffee table in front of where he’s sitting.

“Could have been worse, I guess.”

I pick Roxy up and sit down with her in my lap. I lean against Mick’s arm. I’d like to think it’s just because it’s there, but it’s not. It’s because he’s big and warm and strong, and he makes me feel things I thought I’d forgotten how to feel. I rub my face against his upper arm.

He looks down at me, his gaze warm and caring. “Come a little closer,” he says. “You feel nice.”

I hitch myself a little higher and wrap my arm around his, burrowing into his side. “You feel nice, too,” I say quietly.

“You make me want things,” he says quietly.

“What kinds of things?” I reply. I look up at him and he stares down at me.

“All things.”

I laugh quietly, because I’m afraid the bubble of peace that’s surrounding us will burst if we’re too loud. “All things? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I just know I want them.”

His comment settles low in my belly, in that place where dreams lie in wait, just hoping to be turned into butterflies in your belly and then heat in your guts.

“I want them too,” I admit. Then I scrub my face against his upper arm so he won’t look at me and see how very much I want the same things.

“Any chance you might want them with me?” he asks. An expectant silence falls over the room.

“You’ll do,” I say with a playful shrug.

He chuckles and adjusts Chase in his arms. He’s asleep, so Mick gets up and moves him back to his portable crib. Roxy is asleep in my arms, so I move her to a pillow on the other end of the couch and tuck her in nice and snug so she won’t roll off. Mick turns so that I can crawl into his lap, and then he adjusts me so that I’m leaning in his arms. He stares down at me, and brushes a lock of hair away from my lips.

“You’re like smoke,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes you’re heavy and thick, and I can see you right there in front of me. You look so solid until I try to grab hold, and then you’re gone.” He motions with his hands like I’m slipping through his fingers.

“I’m sorry I make you feel that way.” I am. So sorry. He deserves so much better than me. He deserves the world. “Have you ever been in love?” I ask.

He laughs. “Are you seriously asking me that question?”

“What?” I ask, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Of course, I’m serious.”

“You’re so smart, but sometimes I think you get in your own way, without even meaning to.”

I try to sit up. “What does that mean?” He holds me tightly in his strong arms, not letting me retreat.

“It means that for some reason, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Why is that? Open your eyes, Wren.” He jostles me in his arms a little.

I say nothing.

“How did you meet Shane?” he asks.

Shane is the father of the baby I lost. “He plays guitar for the band that used to open for us when we were on the road.”

“Love at first sight?”

I snort. “More like lust at first sight.”

He grins. “So, it was like that.”

“Very much so. He was charming and friendly and he made me feel special. Until he didn’t.”

“What did your parents think of him?”

“Emilio hated him. Marta tolerated him. My sisters were ambivalent.” I shrug.

“Did you love him?”

I shake my head. “Looking back at it, I don’t think so. At the time, I thought I did, but it’s nothing like…” My face floods with heat and I let the sentence trail off.

“Nothing like what?” he asks, his face intent.

“Nothing like…this.”

He stares down at me. “What’s this?”

This whole conversation has been taking place in whispers, which makes it feel so intimate that it almost hurts. The hairs on my arms stand up.

“This.” I motion from him to me and back. “It didn’t feel like this.”

“Tell me what this feels like to you.”

“Like a slow burn. Like a campfire that’s just been lit. Like a lighter that’s just waiting to become a torch. Like… I don’t know. I can’t explain it. With Shane, it was instant attraction and then it was gone. We kept on doing what we did because it was what we knew, but not necessarily what we wanted.”

“What did you want?”

“That’s just it. I’m not sure. I want what my parents had. What Emilio and Marta have. What my sisters have with their husbands. But I also want my own story. I don’t want to get swept up in something bigger than me. I’m afraid I’ll get lost.” I wince, and I realize I said all that without looking at him. I finally meet his eyes. “What do you want?” I whisper.

“You,” he says, and he runs the tip of his nose down the side of mine. He kisses the corner of my lips. “Just you.” He lifts my legs so he can slip out from under me. “I’m going to take a shower.”

I nod and reach for my coffee, which has grown tepid. I listen for the shower to turn on, and then I settle Anna and Devon in front of a movie. I tiptoe toward the bathroom and debate with myself about what I should do. I lock the bedroom door and take off all my clothes. Then I quietly open the bathroom door and slip inside. My heart is in my throat as I slide back the shower curtain.

Mick is rinsing the soap from his hair when I step in behind him. He freezes, and his back muscles twitch when I lay my hand on his skin. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I don’t want to be like smoke anymore. I want to be someone you can hold on to.”

Suddenly, he spins around, grabs me, and pulls me against him. His hand slides up the back of my neck until he sinks his fingers into my hair, holding tightly. He tugs until I look up at him. “Is this some kind of joke to you?” he asks.

“No,” I rush to say.

“Then stop playing,” he growls as he pushes me back against the shower wall.

“I’m not playing.”

“Yes, you are. You’re playing with my fucking heart and I love you enough that I don’t want to walk away.”

“You love me?” I squeak out.

He presses his hips against mine, his dick hot and hard against my belly. “I’m in this. I’ve been in it since it started. But I feel like I’ve been dragging you along with me.”

“I’m not being dragged.”

He presses his lips to my neck as his hips rock against mine. “What do you want?”

“Just you.”

“For how long?”

“I-I…I don’t know.”

He lets me go so quickly that I almost fall to the floor of the shower. Cool air surrounds me where his heat used to be.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he opens the curtain and steps out.

“I’m going to take Anna and Devon to the pool for a couple of hours. Check-out is at ten, so I’ll be back by then. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? It’ll be another long day of driving.” His voice is cold, his words quick and sharp like knives.

“You’re leaving?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Why?” I’m still standing naked in the shower and he’s leaving.

“Because I can’t do this. I can’t be that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The guy you need. The guy who doesn’t give a fuck.”

“I don’t want a guy who doesn’t give a fuck, Mick. What are you talking about?”

“I get it, Wren. I really do. Your parents died. You met a man who would never love you. Your baby, who could have loved you unconditionally, died. You’ve lost a lot, more than anyone should ever have to lose. But I can’t be one of your casualties. You have to either be in it or out of it.”

“I’m in it.” I’m standing here naked, for Christ’s sake.

“I’m going to take the kids to the pool. Get some rest.”

And then he wraps a towel around his waist and leaves me standing there wearing nothing but shame and fear.