But it wasn’t any trouble. “It’ll only take a minute, and I’m having some.”
He hesitated. “In that case, sure.”
She left for the kitchen.
“You need any help?” he called behind her.
“You’re already helping.”
“Points for that?” he asked.
The question stopped her cold. She couldn’t help remembering the last time they’d joked about points. He’d asked to spend the night, then they’d slept curled together in her bed. If only they could go back to that moment, even just for a little while. Because what she really needed right now was a broad shoulder to lean on. Unfortunately, leaning on Cole’s shoulder was out of the question.
She heated up the cocoa and returned to the living room.
“Sorry,” he told her.
“For what?” She set a steaming cup down on the small table beside him and took the end of the sofa opposite to where he sat.
“For making that points crack.”
He obviously remembered the last time.
The sweetened air seemed to still around them. Her mouth went dry, and her heartbeat thudded thickly in her chest. She braved a look at his face, and their gazes held. The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder.
Cole broke the silence. “The reason I’m here...”
She was half afraid, half excited about what he might say. She distracted herself with a sip.
“The reason I’m here,” he began again, “is because we can’t let Roth win, and that means I need your help.”
She didn’t want Roth to win. But she didn’t want Cole to win, either. Her throat closed up, and her chest pierced with pain.
She had a desperate urge to rip Zachary from his arms. She didn’t care if he cried. She didn’t care if she never slept again. She wanted to hold him every second of every day from now until someone forced her to stop.
“I...” she tried. “How can...” To her mortification, a tear slipped out.
She rose from her chair, surreptitiously swiping the tear away. “He’s asleep. We can put him in his crib now.”
“Sure,” Cole agreed easily, rising with Zachary in his arms, watching her closely.
She walked down the hall to the nursery. There, she straightened the rumpled sheets and folded a fresh blanket onto the mattress.
A yellow nightlight glowed in the corner, highlighting the cartoon giraffes, elephants and lions on the wall. Soft stuffed animals decorated every surface.
Cole moved beside her and eased Zachary down onto the white flannel sheet. He pulled his arm from beneath Zachary and stepped back. The baby didn’t stir. Amber covered Zachary with a knit blanket and a patchwork quilt. Then she stroked her palm over his warm forehead.
“Good night, sweetheart,” she whispered.
She straightened, her heart aching all over again. She gripped the top of the crib rail, struggling to draw a breath.