I brushed back Max’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was hot, that special kind of inferno that kids always seemed to radiate when they’re sleeping.

He sighed, rolled to his side, wriggling deeper underneath the covers.

“Love you, snuggle bug.”

Had he been awake, I would have received an eye roll in return, but since he was dead to the world and I’d just been through a potentially life-threatening situation, I figured I had Mom Cred.

In that, I was allowed to use whatever cheesy nicknames for my kids I wanted.

“Mom?”

I jumped when Max’s eyes flew open and he stared up at me.

“Yeah, bud,” I murmured. “I just got here so I thought I’d come in and say good night.”

“M’kay.” His lids drooped.

“Love you.” I pressed another kiss, shoved up to my heels and shuffled through the Jack and Jill bathroom to Allie’s room.

I wondered briefly if they’d have to give the bedrooms up when the twins were born, before internally chuckling. There were at least another six unused bedrooms at the ranch. Kel and Justin would have to make a lot more babies before my kiddos had to give up the privilege of their own room at Auntie Kel’s house.

Also, this just in: thinking of my sister procreating was gross.

I rolled my eyes, gripped the doorframe, and made my way over to Allie’s bed. I found that walking on my heels wasn’t so bad.

She was sleeping on her back, arms and legs spread eagle, little body taking up as much of the mattress space as physically possible. She’d kicked the blankets off, so I pulled them up and tucked them tightly around her.

No doubt they’d be in a pile at the foot of the bed in no time, but I couldn’t just let her stay uncovered.

She might get cold.

I leaned close, brushed a finger down one soft cheek, and pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. Her breaths were long and even, laced with the scent of her bubblegum mouthwash.

“Night, sweet pea,” I whispered and tucked Mr. Tails, her ratty stuffed cat, under the blankets with her before stepping back.

Allie didn’t reply, her sleep unhindered by my fussing. I limped my way out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Then nearly screamed when I saw the man in the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said softly. “I’m Danny with the security company. I wanted to introduce myself. I’ll be on patrol inside all night.”

My heart was thundering, and I placed my hand on my chest to steady it. “I’m Melissa,” I said, happy my voice sounded relatively even. I mean the man was a giant. Several inches taller than Rob, and with arms that resembled tree trunks. Add in the tattoos and—I forced my eyes away—was that a bullet wound on his neck?

Or a freshly healed over one, anyway.

Holy soufflé. Just what kind of people did Justin know?

“Nice to meet you,” I said into the silence that had fallen. What did one say to a man who looked like he could crunch you into a million pieces? He was going to petrify the kids.

But then Danny smiled, and I saw a kindness in his eyes that instantly put me at ease.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t frighten the kids so long as he kept that grin at the ready.

Danny extended an arm and handed me a cell phone.

It wasn’t mine.

“Uhh,” I said eloquently, even as I took the phone. It was the latest model of i-whatever and way nicer than my cracked screen, super old and slow version.

“A clean line.” He shrugged. “Just in case. Your contacts are preprogrammed. And if you need anything, security is speed dial under one.”

“Okay.” I stared at the blank home screen, half-expecting to see my picture of the kids and Rob and somehow disappointed when I didn’t.

“Or you can text.”

I nodded. Of course they wouldn’t load family pictures on the phone.

But why then did it feel so wrong that they weren’t there?

Ignoring the niggling, I thanked Danny and slipped past him.

Since I wasn’t usually invited for sleepovers at my sister’s house, I didn’t have my own room. But Justin had said I could sleep in the empty bedroom directly across the hall from the kids. And no surprise, it was gorgeous, filled with expensive furniture I could never dream of owning and linens that probably cost more than my car.

Not that expensive furnishings and sheets were Justin’s thing any more than they were Kel’s, but Justin’s family was old money, and that meant they came with things like a live-in housekeeper and thousand-thread count towels.

My sister had definitely moved up several spheres in the social echelon since Justin had come around.

But silky sheets and a luxurious mattress weren’t necessary tonight. I was beyond exhausted from the events of the last day, and I would surely have fallen asleep no matter where my head landed.

After hobbling to the bedside, I pulled back the comforter and swayed a little. Given the swirling sensation in my head, the pain pill that Justin had forced on me must be starting to work.

But only just, I supposed, since I didn’t have the urge yet to talk about clouds.

I wrinkled my nose, flipped off the bedside light, and flopped onto the pillows, tugging the blankets up and carefully slipping my feet beneath them.

Not even one day as an invalid, and I was already sick of it.

How was I supposed to parent if I could barely walk?

And it wasn’t even like I had a broken limb and could manage on the other leg. Nope, I’d managed to mangle the bottoms of both feet.

Brilliant. Excellent work, Miss.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to overtake me.

Son of a beignet, mother fillet of tilapia, and whatever other culinary curse words I could come up with—I really needed to curb my current penchant for the f-bomb if I didn’t want to risk the kids picking it up. That thought was mute at the moment though, because my brain had decided that despite two break-ins in less than twelve hours, one ER visit complete with stitches, glue, and irrigation, and then some seriously way too adult and contentious conversations with my husband, it was not going to let me sleep.

No. It wanted to pour over every detail of the intrusions, of the words exchanged with Rob.

It wanted to focus on the sex. Which had been—

I bit my lip.

Really, really good.

My mind deconstructing each detail of the night was probably the only reason I heard Rob slip into my room.

I knew instantly it was him, in the way that a person’s body knows another body as well as their own. Sudden awareness, a flash of heat, of comfort, and still, unfortunately, a small slice of hurt.

He was almost silent because Justin’s house didn’t have squeaky floors or unoiled hinges, but despite the darkness, I could track his movements. The careful closing of the door, the soft footsteps across the carpet, the careful descent . . . into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“No,” I said and felt him freeze. “Here.” I lifted one side of the comforter.

After a second, I heard him push to his feet. Then he was fully clothed in bed next to me.

But it was okay because he pulled me into his arms, held me tight to his chest.

It was okay because he was Rob, because he was my husband, because he smelled good, and his chest was the same soft-hard combination of man that had given me comfort so many times over.

“You were wrong to do what you did,” I said.

His lungs expanded and compressed beneath my ear. “Yes, I was.”

And then I fell headlong into sleep.