Page 62 of Your Last First Kiss

Mari rests against my shoulder, and a tiny piece of me is happy she didn’t stay sleeping when I tried to put her down earlier. Her little baby smell fills my nose as I rub small circles on her back. Kai is in the armchair to my left, watching the TV screen. Gage leans against me on my right, and Lia sits between him and Dillon, holding each of their hands.

Dillon’s giant, and I do mean giant, hand cradles Lia’s little one like she’s made of porcelain, and I have to force my gaze to stay on the TV.

He never flinched when she attached herself to his leg after dinner or when she held out her hands for him to sit with her for the movie.

It causes a painful lump to lodge in my throat.

Landon, Izzy, and Miller are sprawled out on the floor in front of us on a bed made of pillows. Miller started snoring the second his head hit the pillow, and the other kids all curled around him.

It’s crowded. And peaceful. And happy.

Mari hiccups in the way that babies do in their sleep. It causes her little chin to tremble on a yawn, and her tiny fist stretches out next to my face, landing on my cheek.

Soft. Innocent.

It breaks my heart to know that her life will not be easy.

Before more tears can fall, I lean forward gingerly, and Gage lifts his eyes to me in question. “I’m going to put Mari down for bed,” I whisper.

“Okay, Mommy.”

The second I stand, he turns over and leans into Lia, and Dillon’s left arm comes around the back of the sofa to rest on Gage’s shoulder.

I’m frozen for a second, just watching how easily he’s adapted to my messy life. I have to remember that it’s easy in short bursts. Would he still be here if he knew that this is what life is like day in and day out? His right hand still cradles Lia’s, but my gaze is on his left arm that holds both children safely. Protectively.

“Penny?” Dillon’s whispered voice has my eyelashes fluttering to attention. “Everything all right?”

Throat locked, I simply nod and back out of the room.

“It’s okay. She’s probably going to her closet,” Gage whispers, making every hair on my neck stand on end. “That’s where she goes to cry when she thinks we can’t hear her.”

“Gage.” Kai’s voice is a warning that proves they all know my secret.

I’ll need to talk to them about that, but right now, I hurry out of the room before anyone can question me. It isn’t until I’m on the stairs that I breathe again.

I try so hard to hold it all together—this is proof that I’m failing at that too.

In my room, I close the door most of the way but leave it open a crack so I can hear anyone coming, and I stand next to the pack ’n play doing the mom-sway.

All mothers do it. That gentle sway of the hips from side to side that instantly soothes the baby. Every mother but Aster, that is. She’s tried, but she’s jerky in her movements and on edge all of the time, and since babies feed off body language, Mari doesn’t respond well.

“You’re a great mom, Penny,” Dillon says in a hushed tone that floats down both arms like a hummingbird hovering above my skin.

I swipe under my eyes, thankful for once that I’m not wearing mascara, then face him, but even I know my shaky smile can’t hide my pain. Not tonight. Not when I’m so raw with emotions I never expected to feel again.

He walks forward with easy strides and wraps an arm around me and the baby. “You don’t have to tell me, Penny. But I’d really like to be someone you can trust with your tears.”

I inhale, and every muscle in my body quivers. “Trust is something I may not be able to give, Dillon.”

“That’s because you shouldn’t. Trust isn’t something given or taken freely. Trust is something that’s earned. I want to earn your trust just like I want to prove to you that I want to be here.”

Pulling out of his embrace is harder than it should be, but I do and shift to set Mari in her pack ’n play.

I take longer than necessary to tuck her in, running my hand over her wispy golden hair and down her cheek, loving how her little lips purse together, searching for something to nuzzle. Finally, I rest my hand on the small of her little back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

Dillon doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t move or say anything. He just stands where I left him, giving me the time and space I need to collect myself.

When I think I can face him without losing the battle of tears, I stand to my full height, cross my arms over my chest and turn to him.