Page 15 of Crossed Up

“You don’t have to ask to go anywhere in the house, Ly. As far as I’m concerned, you can treat our house as your own for as long as you’re here.”

The flush staining her cheeks deepens to a dark pink, and I’m struck again by just how delicate her features are. “I appreciate that, Aid,” she murmurs with a shy smile, clearly following my lead on the nickname front. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

Something dangerous tightens in my gut when I hear those words come from her pretty pink lips. Seeing the way she stares up at me without the hesitation that’s been present for the last two weeks has my heart nearly skipping a beat.

I’m in so much fucking trouble.

“Miss Lyla, can we have ice cream and popcorn when Daddy goes to his game?”

She places a hand on her chin and pretends to consider his request. “Hmm… why don’t we do one better and have a movie night? You can pick what we have for dinner, we can do ice cream sundaes, and we can build a fort!”

A wide grin splits my face at the girlish laughter that’s nearly drowned out by the ear-piercing squeal Crew lets out at his nanny’s words.

Making sure they’re distracted, I discreetly flip off the man who glares our way, watching as he huffs before stomping past us. His little tantrum has me snickering until I notice how Lyla reels back with a flinch as he passes a little too close with a sneer.

I’d been walking a few feet behind, content to just watch Lyla and Crew interact, but the look on her face as she watches the man with wide eyes has tension tightening my body in alarm.

When I place a gentle hand on the back of her shoulder, she snaps her head in my direction so fast her long, heavy hair whips me in the face, making me sneeze as I bat the strands away from my face.

“Sorry,” she gasps. Her plush lips pull down in a grimace even as her breathing speeds back up after the momentary distraction. Crew is still playing happily in the buggy, so I try to think of anything I can do that might bring her out of this panic attack before it gets worse.

I don’t give myself a chance to think as I cup her face in my hands and coax her eyes up to meet mine, so I’m incredibly relieved when she doesn’t jerk away from my soft grip. “Trust me for a minute?” I whisper.

With her barely perceptible nod as confirmation, I wrap my arms around her slight frame and squeeze with a bit more pressure than I would usually use for a hug. “Now focus on my heartbeat and my breathing. Try to match your breaths to mine.” I take a deep inhale, getting a wave of her perfume in my nose.

The smell nearly has me groaning in the middle of the damned market. She smells like cherries and something else creamy and sweet. Sometimes, I think it’s vanilla, but other times, it’s a little bit darker, almost seductive.

“That’s it,” I praise when I feel her chest rise in time with my own. “You’re doing so good, angel.” Her grip tightens around my waist, and I hope I didn’t make her uncomfortable with the nickname. It just slipped out, but I don’t regret it. She really is an angel.

“Daddy?” Crew’s concerned voice pulls my attention to where he sits in the buggy, watching us with rapt attention. “Does Miss Lyla need a moment?”

His whispered question has me huffing a laugh even as I quietly count the number of times her back moves with each exhale, squeezing tighter when I notice her breathing speed up again. “Yeah, buddy. She needs a moment.”

He nods solemnly before going back to his game of pirate ship, and Lyla even laughs this time, sending a wave of relief over me. “How are you feeling now, darlin’?”

She relaxes fully against my chest with a deep sigh. “I’m better now, thank you. Why did that help so much?”

I shrug, but a shy grin tips up the corners of my lips. “It’s called co-regulation. I used to do it when Crew was a baby, and he had issues regulating his heartbeat and breathing. The nurses at the hospital taught me that trick during some of his worst nights in the NICU.”

Her breath hitches. “The NICU?”

The thought of getting into the whole Mia thing right now and knowing what else that could lead to makes me feel sick so I quickly change the subject, hoping she lets it drop. “Yeah, but he’s perfectly healthy now. So, Crew,” I turn to the tiny Raptor in our buggy. “What do you want for your special dinner with our Miss Lyla?”

I normally hate going to the market because buying food for two people only reminds me of how depressingly single I am. The team’s nutritionist usually sends me meals during the season anyway because I have a hard time getting in enough protein with how busy I always am. So grocery shopping during the season consists of my six-year-old’s favorite foods and the few healthy things I can successfully get him to eat.

“Why are you getting cauliflower?” Crew nearly gags in disgust as his nanny places the offensive vegetable down next to him. He scoots as far away as possible in the limited space like it’ll reach out and bite him if he gets too close.

She snickers and leans over the side of the buggy. She’s so small she can rest her arms on the edge of the basket and barely have to bend over. “Wanna know a secret?” she whispers, eyes shining with mischief. “I have a super special recipe that makes cauliflower taste delicious.”

The skepticism is clear on his expressive face, and I cover my mouth with a hand in an effort to hold back my laughter. If there’s one thing I know about my son, it’s that he’s as stubborn as they come when it comes to trying new foods and isn’t afraid to show it.

Lyla grins. “How about I make my special recipe, and you try it, and then if you don’t like it, I won’t make you eat cauliflower again for, hmm…” She taps a finger against her chin. “A whole year.”

His eyes light up. “A whole year? I’ll be almost seven by then!”

She raises a questioning brow at me, and I nod, thoroughly enjoying their exchange. “Okay, so if you don’t like it, I won’t make you eat it again until after you’re seven, deal?”

He beams. “Deal.”

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