Bucking the Rules(76)

Trace gagged a little.

“Oh, please. Like you two aren’t adorbs over there,” Bea accused. “Just bring Seth down and you’d be the cutest little fam … ily… .” she ended lamely, realizing her mistake a beat too late.

There was a moment when the only sound was the huffing of Bea’s little dog-child panting under the table.

“Well, this was great,” Peyton said, pushing back from the table. “We should do it again. Jo, you need to come during the day so you can get the full tour. Do you ride?”

“Ride? A horse? I’m more of a subway kinda gal, myself.”

“We’ll get you up on one. Everyone learns to love it. Except that one,” she added with distain, pointing at Bea.

Red gave Bea a look Jo couldn’t quite interpret, then reached over and started gathering plates. “It’s our KP night. So you guys are free to escape.”

“We’re free! We’re free! Come on, Milton. Let’s go watch whatever’s on the DVR.” Bea sauntered out toward the living room without a backward glance. The dog trotted behind her, tiny legs working furiously to keep up with Bea’s mile-long stride. The tinkle of his tags, like a bell, made Jo smile.

“That dog is something else.”

“I’m still not sure it is a dog, frankly.” Trace looked disgusted at the whole thing, which made Jo swallow a laugh. “But she loves that damn animal. I don’t have the heart to tell her no dog likes getting dressed in the morning and … accessorizing.” He broke out the air quotes for that last one and shuddered.

She started to crack a joke, but broke off when he glanced around her.

“Sorry, hold on a sec.” He rubbed her arm and walked around her and up to the stairs. “Yeah?”

“Sorry.” Emma’s voice, unnaturally soft, came back. “But he’s having a hard time going back down and I thought maybe you could just give him five minutes. But if not, I—”

“I’ll be right there.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t wanna play Daddy tonight but needs must.”

“Go, it’s fine.” It made her smile a little that he didn’t hesitate to drop her like a hot potato because his son needed some cuddle time. She might not get it from a maternal standpoint, but she did know it made him a good man.

A good man deserved a chance, didn’t he? Was she tossing the, well, the man out with the baby and the bathwater?

She took a breath and held it, listening. Footsteps above, and they sounded like they were moving in a circle. Curiosity tugged at her, and she tried hard to battle it back.

But then, damn it, she heard what she thought was the start of a lullaby, and she couldn’t resist. Taking the stairs slowly, trying not to creak, she snuck up the steps. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it felt as if she’d left one house and entered another. The sleek, modern artwork and showroom quality furniture had given way to a simple, comfortable, lived-in family room. The carpet was a beige shag, the couches were a dark brown, and there was a flat screen hung on one wall. From the top of the stairs, she could count several doors. Some to bathrooms, she assumed, others to bedrooms. Pausing, she waited to hear more of the song Trace crooned to his son.

Emma’s silver-tipped head popped over the top of the couch, nearly startling Jo into falling back and tumbling down the stairs. The woman’s grin was infectious, and she tilted her head toward the door with a sliver of light peeking through the opening.

Jo took this for an invitation and crept over to the door, pushing it open just a little. And what she saw made the breath catch in her throat.

Trace walked the floor with his son over one shoulder. The little boy looked sad, almost angry, but he was quiet. One fist was up by his mouth, the fingers red and a little wet as if he’d been sucking or biting on them. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes watchful. They caught sight of her before Trace did. The boy struggled against Trace’s hold, twisting to watch her.

Trace glanced over and saw her.

“Sorry,” she mouthed and started to step back. But he shook his head and motioned her in.

Frozen, Jo tried to move—pick a direction and just go!—but she couldn’t. Couldn’t step back, couldn’t move in. She was completely tied to the doorway, as if unable to make a choice one way or the other.

Sensing her problem, Trace walked over and held out the hand not cradling the boy to his shoulder. “He’s fine, just a little cranky. Another tooth coming in.”

“Ah,” she said, as if that made any sense to her at all. But when he took her hand, she let him lead her into the room.