Page 4 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

CHAPTER THREE

XANDER

My week didn’t get any better. In fact, it had somehow gotten worse .

Emma still wouldn’t eat any of the options I provided for breakfast, I still couldn’t find her damn missing shoes, and I still didn’t know how the hell to do her hair. Not to mention, I wasn’t on solid ground at the station yet either.

I felt like a lost cause. But I refused to give up, and I refused to give in. Neither was in my wheelhouse.

In Chicago, fire chief duties had meant coordinating multi-alarm fire responses, handling arson investigations, and fielding press conferences at a moment’s notice.

Here in Starlight Cove? It meant chasing down a raccoon that broke in to the station’s snack stash, approving marshmallow-roasting proximity limits at the annual Let It Burn Bash, and making sure the undeniably hot—and also undeniably unhinged—tourist didn’t burn down the shed she’d made a temporary home.

But that was a problem I’d tackle once I got to the station. First, I needed to drop Emma at my mom’s.

I opened the back door, guiding Emma in ahead of me, and glanced around.

Mom stood at the stove flipping pancakes, while my younger brothers, Declan and Lincoln, sat at the breakfast nook.

Even though they’d probably both slept less than five hours last night, they looked a hell of a lot more well rested than I did.

And I had no doubt they were going to remind me of as much.

I couldn’t fucking wait until they hit their late thirties.

“Good morning,” my mom said over her shoulder, smiling at Emma and me.

Emma scrambled out of her mismatched shoes before running over to my mom and crashing into her legs with a tight hug. “Hi, Mimi!”

“Hi, angel. Did you eat for Daddy this morning?” Mom glanced up at me, and I gave one firm shake of my head and ran a tired hand down my face. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that, should we?”

Mom pulled up a stool to the counter and guided Emma up, instructing her on how to help with the pancakes. And my brothers didn’t waste any time digging into me.

“Jesus.” Lincoln gave me a quick once-over, his brows pitching higher as he went. “You look like a walking cautionary tale, man.”

“He’s not lying,” Declan muttered from where he scribbled what looked like an open book with flowers growing out of it on a napkin. “When’s the last time your hair saw a goddamn brush?”

“Today, dickhead,” I snapped. Though, I did run a hand through my hair, because I couldn’t remember if I’d actually done that this morning or not. I was just lucky I hadn’t shown up in what I’d worn to bed. Again.

Lincoln raised a brow and lifted his coffee mug to his lips. “You finally gonna stop playing martyr and hire someone like Mom’s been telling you to? Or are you just hoping caffeine and shame will carry you through to graduation?”

I stared at my pain-in-the-ass youngest brother, my jaw ticking as I bit back the slew of curses I wanted to lob his way. In the end, I just said, “Emma’s four. I think we’ll be fine by the time we get to graduation.”

“It’s not graduation we’re worried about,” Lincoln said. “It’s now .”

“I’m handling it,” I snapped, ending the discussion.

Or so I’d hoped.

Unfortunately for me, my brothers didn’t give a fuck about my cues. Gave even less about leaving me the hell alone.

Declan snorted but didn’t bother lifting his eyes from his sketch. “You’re not handling shit. I’ve seen you adjust to a propane tank explosion faster than you are to this.”

Yeah, well, that was because I had actual training in dealing with a propane tank explosion. And I’d had exactly zero in the way of training for a child before my daughter was dropped on my doorstep.

So, yeah. It was taking me a little fucking time to adjust.

“I said I was figuring it out.” I glanced at Emma, who sat at the eat-in island, enthralled in a book Mom had brought home from the library and—thank fucking god—eating a pancake. “I’m not going to pass her off on to somebody else just because it’s difficult.”

Mom cleared her throat, set an empty mug down in front of me, and filled it with coffee.

“No one’s telling you to pass her off on to someone.

We’re just trying to look out for you. Between this and the new job and me going back to work full time, you’re on a one-way track to bleeding yourself dry.

And you can’t pour from an empty cup, honey. ”

“Listen to her, for fuck’s sake,” Declan grumbled.

Lincoln lifted his glass in a salute. “Can’t argue with a wise woman.”

“I didn’t come over to get ganged up on by my entire family.”

“That’s not what’s happening,” Lincoln said. “Atlas isn’t even here.”

As if Linc had summoned our eldest brother, the back door swung open. Atlas stepped inside, all six-foot-six of him brimming with irritation, his signature game-day scowl already firmly in place.

I didn’t have time to hide the dried applesauce on my hoodie or the disastrous state of Emma’s hair or the fact that there were two different tiny shoes by the back door because he clocked it all in a nanosecond.

After sweeping the space, he glanced at each of us in turn, his brow raised. “This is what morning looks like now?”

“Yeah,” Declan said dryly. “It’s been a real treat.”

Atlas didn’t crack a smile, though that was nothing new.

In fact, the only time I’d seen his lips so much as twitch usually involved one of three people—his new girlfriend, Sutton, her daughter, Laurel, or my daughter.

Who knew Brick Wall had a soft spot? One thing I did know was that I sure as hell wasn’t included in that group.

He poured himself a cup of coffee then leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms as he took a sip from his mug. Finally, he said, “Still trying to prove something nobody has asked you to, huh?”

I stiffened at the same time Lincoln whistled lowly under his breath.

“Direct hit,” he muttered.

As if I needed the reminder when I’d felt that hit in my chest.

Before I could tell Atlas where to shove his nonexistent expertise, he continued, “And while you’re doing that, the only time you’re spending with your daughter is full of tension.”

I darted my gaze to Emma, who was still engrossed in her new book. Completely oblivious to the impromptu intervention my entire family had decided to spring on me. I didn’t need a goddamn lecture, and I sure as hell didn’t need a guilt trip.

What I needed was five fucking minutes when it didn’t feel like I was drowning.

But if there was one thing I’d come to know in my thirty-eight years, it was that my older brother didn’t speak unless it was important. He didn’t sugarcoat things, but he also rarely missed.

Blowing out a deep sigh, I scrubbed a hand over my face. Then, quietly, I admitted, “I feel like I’m failing her if I bring in someone else to help.”

“Yeah? And have you felt like you’ve been winning these past few weeks when you haven’t?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not when the truth hit harder than I wanted to admit.

No, I absolutely wasn’t winning. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I was white-knuckling my way through every day, just fucking hoping I didn’t drop a ball I couldn’t afford to. Pushing through the exhaustion and defeat. Failing more than I wanted her to see.

“Daddy!” Emma called, the name still a shock to my system. “I read this whole page! Right, Mimi?” She grinned up at my mom, and my heart broke a little more.

Because Atlas was right.

That was how I wanted to spend my time with my daughter—reading with her and coloring with her and playing with her, instead of being swamped with laundry and cooking and cleaning and the long list of other things I’d had no idea even needed to be taken care of but now fell solely on my shoulders.

They were right. I did need help.

Now I just had to figure out where to find it.

Group text with Mom, Atlas, Xander, Declan, and Lincoln

1:47 p.m.

Xander:

Fine.

Lincoln:

Thanks, I put a lot of effort into my hair this morning. Glad you noticed.

Xander:

I mean, fine, I’ll hire someone. You dipshit.

Lincoln:

Idk man. One of us went to work with some mysterious dried food on his shirt. Seems like the clear dipshit in this situation ain’t me.

Xander:

Whatever. I get it. Emma and I need help.

Declan:

You do for sure

Xander:

Jesus, I should’ve just texted Mom instead of all of you asshats. Or Sutton. They would’ve helped.

Atlas:

My girlfriend doesn’t need to help you with your problems.

Lincoln added Sutton and Laurel to this text group

Lincoln:

Too late. And I figured this situation called for Little L’s sass too.

Atlas:

Goddammit, you asshole. Her daughter doesn’t need to worry about your shit either.

Laurel:

This better be important

I’m in class

Lincoln:

It is. Xander said he needs help.

Laurel:

So he wants like therapist recs orrrrr???????

Xander:

Thanks a lot for this, Linc.

Lincoln:

You can always count on me.

Sutton:

Is there an actual emergency or are you guys just fucking around? The clinic is slammed today.

Atlas:

Ignore my idiot brothers, trouble. You too, kid. Focus on work and school, and I’ll deal with this bullshit.

Declan:

Someone deal with the bullshit so I can stop getting these notifications.

Mom:

Oh, honey! I’m so glad you finally came around!!! Tell us what you’re looking for in a nanny so we can help!

Declan:

Yeah, Xan. Definitely tell us what you’ve always looked for in a nanny.

Xander:

Quit being a fucking pervert. Laurel’s on this thread.

Laurel:

I’m sixteen not six. And I read plenty of spicy books that your mom actually keeps me stocked in. I’m fully aware of the single dad nanny trope.

Xander:

This isn’t a fucking single dad and nanny trope romance book.

Lincoln:

DUDE. You should read one! I’m not even joking. Mom hooked me up. I can’t believe we’ve been sleeping on romances this whole time. Wtf was I even doing with my life??

Atlas:

I haven’t been sleeping on shit. Been reading and learning from those books for years.

Sutton:

Can confirm.

Laurel:

Don’t be gross

But also read the books guys

Because you all seem pretty dumb when it comes to women

Daddy Grump included

Atlas:

Thought I was getting better?

Laurel:

Just because you’re not drowning doesn’t mean you’re Michael Phelps

Lincoln:

Brutal.

Laurel:

You’re no better

Should I roast you next?

Lincoln:

Don’t you have school right now?

Laurel:

Yep so I’m muting this

Mom:

So we’re looking for someone who will play and be silly with Emma, right? And they should be fun and love little kids, obviously!! Someone laid-back who can take things as they come would also be a perk!

Declan:

Definitely. Especially if they’re going to be dealing with Xander and the two by four lodged up his ass.

Xander:

Thanks, everyone. Appreciate the help.

Sutton:

Ignore your brothers. I’ll put out some feelers at the clinic.

Mom:

I’ll do the same at the library, honey! We’ll find someone perfect. Don’t you worry!!!!