The big double doors Rex and Frankie had walked through three hours before swung open for what had to be the millionth time that night. I shot to my feet when this time it was finally Rex carrying out a sleeping Frankie in his arms.

The same blond-haired guy who’d been sitting with Rex at the bar on Friday night followed close behind them, and I had to do a double take when I saw he was wearing a pair of blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck.

Even though he still exuded that same uptight, rigid stance, Rex seemed relieved. The bounding tension that had orbited his being seemed to have dissipated.

And that relieved . . . me.

It was true.

Gone was the weight that had crushed like a pile of rubble and stone while I’d sat there alone, waiting for word. For anyone or anything to confirm that sweet little girl was fine. My rationale told me it was just a virus or a bug. Yet, this other part of me—the one that had panicked when I’d found the two of them standing outside my door in the middle of the night—had worried and fretted the entire time they’d been in the back.

God, it’d taken a matter of days for me to get in over my head.

But I’d barely been able to focus on anything else since I’d left Rex Gunner staring after me on Saturday night after I’d read Frankie that story. More confused than I’d ever been. His touch lingering on my skin and his words rambling through my head.

Honestly, I’d been shocked when he came to me for help.

But any reservations I’d wanted to hold had been wiped away by the sheer terror he’d attempted to keep veiled in the vast abyss of those stormy eyes. Eradicated by the fierce protectiveness that had radiated from him.

Most of all was this helplessness he couldn’t seem to keep contained. It was in the way his chin had quivered as he’d stood on my porch with his daughter held in the safety of his arms.

“How is she?” I whispered, even though the waiting room was loud and bright. I couldn’t do anything but reach out and thread my fingers through her brown hair. She was absolutely peaceful in his hold, and that simple touch sent a wave of affection bounding through my veins.

I sucked in a breath, surprised by the sudden, all-encompassing emotion.

Quickly, I turned my attention to search Rex’s face.

His stunning, hard, brutal face.

Obviously, it was a more dangerous place to avert my attention. Because the emotion grew.

“It’s just a virus.” That rough, scruffy jaw was held tight, though there was a heavy solace that flooded out with the words.

The man who’d followed him out elbowed Rex in the ribs. “Rex here takes overprotectiveness to a whole new level. If he had let that Tylenol kick in, he would have known she was just fine.”

Rex grunted. “Not a chance I was willing to take.”

I wondered just what chances Rex was ever willing to take.

Though, I had to agree with him on this one. “It was good you brought her,” I told him, hoping to encourage him. Hoping he’d get that I saw the kind of father he was.

The man next to him laughed a disbelieving sound, as if he took some kind of satisfaction in the situation. He shoved his hand toward me. “Dr. Kale Bryant, at your service.”

I returned his shake. “Rynna Dayne.”

A smug smile took to his handsome face, his eyes darting between Rex and me, his voice fueled by an undercurrent of laughter. “Oh, you have no idea just how nice it is to meet you, Ms. Dayne.”

Rex almost rolled his eyes. “Dr. Kale Bryant. I remember the days when I used to let you cheat off my math tests, asshole. Take it down a notch.”

Kale clapped him on the back. “Hey, don’t go knocking that whole doctor bit. Your ass would still be sitting out here waiting to have your daughter seen if it weren’t for me.”

“I’m not knocking anything. You know I owe you.”

Maybe I was surprised to hear the sincerity behind his admission. I guessed I shouldn’t have been. Not with the way he clutched Frankie to him.

Guarding her.

Protecting her.

“We should get her home,” I offered. Again, I glanced at his precious child. Her chubby cheek was pressed so perfectly to his chest and her fist was wound in the fabric of his shirt, as if the steady beat of his heart had lulled her into peace.

Rex lifted his chin to Kale. “Thanks, man. Honestly . . . don’t think you know how much I appreciate you being there for her like this.”

Waving him off, Kale let his gaze slide to the sweet child. “Anything for Sweet Pea Frankie Leigh. That’s my godbaby, you know.”

He looked at me when he said the last, and a smile was pulling through the exhaustion that threatened to drag me under. “No way.”

Kale was all dimples as he raised his arms to the sides. “Don’t let all these awesome good looks fool you. I’m totally capable of raising a kid.” He threw a playful punch into Rex’s shoulder. “Almost as good as this guy.”

My smile grew as my eyes volleyed between the two of them, totally taken aback by the closeness Rex shared with Kale. But in a pleasant way. Maybe he didn’t need any more friends, after all.

I looked back at him, and my stomach twisted.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need something.

Someone to fill that glaring void that was so obviously radiating within him.

And with every layer that was exposed, more and more I wanted to be that person.

* * *

“I’ve got her,” he grumbled barely above his breath when I attempted to help him get her out of the backseat of my car.

A calm stillness held fast to the cool air, daybreak just a hint of a blaze that lifted from the horizon. Glittering rays chased away the night and lit the sky in pinks and oranges and a welcoming blue.

The day brand new.

Bursting with possibilities.

“At least let me get the door open for you.” I said it with zero frustration when I wrenched free the keys he had clutched in his hand and quietly climbed the porch steps.

Somehow, I’d come to understand this man felt he needed to do things on his own.

Or maybe he’d just been forced into that role, and he knew nothing else.

Behind me, I could feel them, this buzz of energy that emanated from their skin. It made me feel as if I stood at the very edge of something magnificent, a stranger peering in to witness something pure and absolute. Alive and profound. A thriving force that threatened to suck me into its depths.

Sliding the key into the lock, I turned the lever and opened the door, standing aside as he headed straight through, his long legs eating up the floor as he disappeared down the hallway.

I wavered there, my mind flashing back to two nights ago when he’d had me pinned just inside. The memory spun around me, that fury that had been so blatantly evident.

Almost as acute as the brokenness that had seeped from his flesh and poured into mine.

Nearly as intense as the desire that had lashed between us.

I didn’t even know him, and the man was so mesmerizingly conflicted that he had me overwhelmed with the need to step closer. To dip my fingers in to explore and discover.

But it was more than that. There was something about him that made me ache. Something that made my chest and my spirit and my stomach revolt at the thought of walking away.

Sucking in a breath, I came to a quick decision. Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me and crept down the hall, unable or maybe unwilling to stop myself from peering through the doorway into Frankie’s room.

My insides trembled as I watched them.

Rex carefully laid her in her bed. Gently, he brushed the chaotic tangle of hair from her forehead. His gaze was so tender when he stared down at her trusting face, his spirit so soft when he edged forward and brushed a kiss to one of her rosy, plump cheeks.

My throat thickened, and I clung to the jamb.

Enthralled and transfixed.

God.

This. Man.

He was undoing something inside me.

Uncovering something I’d never even realized I wanted.

Slowly, he stood. His body seemed so big in the emerging day, the raw strength of him wrapping me in chains. When he shifted, those eyes locked on me, his shadowy figure moving my direction.

I struggled to find air. Reason.

I fumbled a step back into the hallway, fortifying myself, never sure where his anger might take us or where this attraction might lead us.

He stopped in the doorway. His breaths short and heavy.

That same awareness flickered to life. Only this time, it seemed as if it’d gained power from the rising sun.

“Thank you.” The words landed on me like a rough caress.

“Of course. When I told you I thought you might need a friend, I meant it. That means if you need me . . . I’m here.”

He nodded, though it seemed reluctant. As if he were crossing an invisible line by agreeing. “Okay.”

I nodded back, shocked that he’d yielded. “Okay. I’ll . . . talk to you later. Just”—I fisted a hand over my heart—“please let me know if you or Frankie need anything at all. I’d really like to know how she’s doing. I know I’ll be thinking about her all day.”

With that, I turned and headed for the door. I needed to get out of there.

Clear my head of the foolish ideas that had begun to spin. This foolish impulse to jump into torrid waters when I couldn’t see the bottom. To sate the churning need that prodded at my consciousness.

Most of all, I wanted to respect him. The space he so clearly needed.

But I had no idea how that was going to work when it was starting to hurt when I walked away.