Annie stiffened and little fists clenched at Emma’s blouse. When she began to whimper, Emma patted her back to soothe her. “Please calm down.”
He stopped in the center of the kitchen and turned those raging eyes on her. “I had a right to know!” The words burst from his lips at an angry clip, making Annie flinch. A distinct pain shone from the depths of his eyes that made her heart ache.
She hugged Annie tighter and rubbed small circles over her back. “That’s why I’m here, but you need to quiet down. You’re scaring Annie.”
His eyes flitted to the baby. His anger evaporated. His shoulders slumped, and he blew out a heavy breath.
“Aw, damn.” His arms dropped to his sides. “I’m sorry.”
Emma mustered a soft smile. One thing she remembered about Dillon—he was a gentle giant. “You have every right to be angry. I was too, but take it out on a punching bag tomorrow, when we’re not here.”
She drew in a deep breath, drawing her courage around her like a shroud. She had to get this over with sooner or later. She wanted him to be that arrogant playboy, so he couldn’t take Annie away from her, but it wasn’t his fault they were in this position. They had Janey to thank for that. If Emma ever wanted to know if he’d accept the baby, she had to be brave now.
“Would you like to hold her?” She crossed the room and stopped at his side.
She expected him to back away. She held her breath and almost hoped he wouldn’t take any interest in Annie. Dillon took a step toward her, instead, and reached out a hesitant hand to caress Annie’s head.
“She really does look like Janey.” There was a quiet, wistful tone to his voice.
Drawing her last ounce of strength, Emma extracted Annie from her shoulder and held her out to him. According to the letter, this was what Janey would have wanted.
Annie fussed, kicking her legs in a frantic effort to connect with something solid.
He hesitated, his eyes flicking to hers. He waited until Emma gave a nod of encouragement before taking her. He held Annie out in front of him for a moment, looking lost and awkward, clearly out of his element.
“Hold her against you like this.” Emma made a cradling motion with her arms, showing him how to hold the baby against his shoulder.
Dillon pulled Annie gingerly against his chest, tucking one arm beneath her bottom and resting the other on her back. Except for their eyes, the two couldn’t be more different. Dillon’s skin had been darkened by the summer sun, whereas Annie’s was pale, creamy porcelain. Being huge like he was, Annie looked like a doll in his arms. He had biceps bigger than her. Yet, somehow, they looked perfect together.
“God, she’s so small. I’m almost afraid I’m going to break her.” He stared at Annie, awe in his voice, and reached one large finger up to stroke a soft, chubby cheek.
Emma smiled. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. You were a pain in my butt, but I’ve never known you to be a bully.”
One corner of his mouth lifted, amusement lighting his eyes when his gaze flicked to her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Annie leaned back in his arms and the two of them regarded each other. Dillon smiled. When she laid a chubby hand against his mouth, he opened his lips and pretended to eat her fingers, making, “nom nom nom” sounds, eliciting a hearty giggle. That heart-stopping grin spread across his mouth and awe illuminated his eyes.
Emma’s heart ached, tears burning behind her eyelids. Father and daughter together at last. A bittersweet moment. After seeing them together, she knew she made the right decision coming here. She wanted Annie with her father, but the thought of losing her broke Emma’s heart in two. She couldn’t imagine not seeing Annie’s smiling face each morning or not rocking her to sleep at night. For the first time in her life, she’d be totally alone.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, Emma turned to stare at the fireplace along the far wall. The orange and gold flames danced along the small pile of logs. If she were lucky, she’d convince Dillon to share custody. It would mean rearranging her entire life. They’d have to share visitation, and she’d likely have to move back to Hastings, but those were small details. She’d do anything to keep Annie.
“Where are you staying?”
Dillon’s quiet voice broke into her reverie and she turned sideways to look at him.
“With Mrs. Emerson at the bed and breakfast.”
He turned his gaze from Annie to her. “Janey mentioned you sold the house.”
Her mother’s house, the one she and Janey grew up in. She nodded. “Yeah, not too long after we left town.”