Page 14 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

XANDER

After twenty years of being on my own, it had been jarring that, suddenly, another person relied on me.

Even though I’d been trained for years to wake up at the slightest sound, I’d been worried when Emma had first come to live with me that I’d sleep straight through her calling for me in the middle of the night.

That, even if I was ten feet away, I wouldn’t be there for her.

I’d never been more grateful to be wrong.

From the first night she’d spent with me, I’d become so attuned to her that I would wake up if she so much as coughed.

So it was no surprise that I jolted upright at 1 a.m., thanks to her crying out. What was a surprise was that in the mere seconds it had taken me to throw off my covers and tug on a pair of flannel pants, Chloe had beaten me to my daughter’s room.

She sat on Emma’s bed, whispering softly to her as she smoothed a hand down Emma’s arm.

I couldn’t hear what Chloe said, just the low cadence of her words, but it didn’t matter.

I hated how she looked, so soft and perfect…

with her sleep-mussed hair and bare face and that goddamn sweatshirt that haunted my dreams.

Even more, I hated that she looked like that while she soothed my little girl after a nightmare. A nightmare caused by trauma I was all too familiar with.

True, our parents hadn’t left for the same reason—I hadn’t known Corinne well, but I was confident she would’ve done anything in her power to stay with Emma. Whereas my father bailed and traded us in for a new model without a second thought.

The bottom line was, I knew what it felt like to be left behind. That was something Emma and I shared, when some days, it felt like we didn’t share anything else at all.

So, seeing Chloe—a woman who’d been in Emma’s life for what amounted to a blink of time—step into that role and comfort my daughter instead of me pissed me the hell off.

Before I could walk in and take over, Chloe stood, said goodnight to Emma, and stepped out into the hall, stopping short at the sight of me.

Her gaze darted over my bare chest before dipping down to the waistband of my flannel pants, and my body’s answering response to her attention only pissed me off more.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” she whispered.

I clenched my jaw, making a concerted effort to keep my voice low. “My daughter had a nightmare. Of course I’m awake.”

Chloe blinked up at me, obviously hearing the sharpness in my tone. “Right. Sorry, I just thought?—”

“That you’d overstep? Clearly.”

I knew I was laying into her harder than necessary. But goddamn it, this was the one thing I knew I was qualified to handle. The one thing I was somehow getting right. And when I was floundering in every other aspect, that meant something.

“Let me be very clear—when my daughter needs a tarot reading for her stuffed animals, you’re the first one we’ll call. But when it comes to nightmares stemming from her trauma? Let her father handle it.”

Hurt flashed in Chloe’s eyes, but I didn’t apologize. And I didn’t stick around to wait for a response. She was a fully grown woman who knew exactly what she’d been hired to do, and I had a scared little girl to reassure.

Without giving Chloe another thought, I stepped into Emma’s room, the floor creaking under my feet.

Emma’s eyes fluttered open as I stood next to her bed. “I had a bad dream, Daddy.” Her voice was thin and watery, the sound breaking my heart.

“I’m here, peanut.” I sank down to my usual spot on the floor next to her bed. “Everything’s okay.”

She shifted on her mattress to be closer, curling herself around me. One arm dangled over my shoulder, her tiny fingers running through the hair on my chest, the other clutching her stuffed unicorn. I reached up and grabbed her hand, bringing it to my lips for a quick kiss.

Then I settled in, resting my head back on the mattress, content to stay as long as she needed me.

CHLOE

It took a lot for me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

Usually, I was one of those irritating assholes who was chipper even before that first cup of coffee—hell, I didn’t even need coffee.

But I should have known if anyone could piss me off before sunrise, it would be the infuriatingly hot, infuriatingly grumpy, infuriatingly rude single daddy who also happened to be my boss.

Honestly, the nerve of that man! To snap at me when all I’d been trying to do was help!

How the hell was I supposed to know he wouldn’t sleep through Emma’s whimpers? It wasn’t like I’d dashed out of my room at the first soft cry. I’d been in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water before bed when I heard her.

What? Like I was just going to ignore her? What kind of asshole did he take me for?

He couldn’t even find matching shoes, but I was supposed to believe that he was some kind of emotional guru at nightmares? Yeah, okay, sure, buddy.

I’d planned to make a double batch of muffins this morning so the grumpy asshole could eat. But fuck that. He was on his own.

If he wanted to treat me like that, he could?—

My thoughts came to a skidding halt—right along with my feet—as I stood outside Emma’s bedroom. The door was still cracked open like it had been last night, soft morning light just beginning to filter in through the curtains, illuminating a sight that had my ovaries damn near combusting.

“Goddammit,” I muttered under my breath.

Xander sat on the hardwood floor, leaning against the side of Emma’s bed, his head bent back and resting on the mattress. And Emma was curled around him like a comma, her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, both of them sound asleep.

All at once, every bit of ire seeped out of me. And somehow, that allowed my rational brain to come back online since the vacation it’d taken last night.

Given what Emma had been through, of course Xander would want to be there to reassure her after a nightmare—one where she told me she’d been in a strange house where no one knew her name. I didn’t need a degree in psychology to figure that one out.

It was hard to remain annoyed when I could look at this now for what it was—a father trying to hold it all together for his little girl who’d been through hell.

With one last look at the sleeping pair—the gruff man who looked calm and peaceful but still ever the protector and the little girl who’d been through so much—I blew out a heavy sigh and closed her door.

And then I padded my way downstairs to the kitchen to make that double batch of muffins. Even assholes needed to eat.