Secrets Of The Heart (Book 1, The Heart Series) by Laurie LeClair Page B
Authors: Laurie LeClair
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confided in him. What else didn’t he know?
“Come on, honey, I’ll carry you upstairs and help you get ready for bed,” Bree coaxed.
“You, too.”
“After I help your Poppa unload the truck, all right?”
“You’ll stay with me?” Sydney asked. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.
“Ah…” Bree hesitated.
Something inside Nick tightened, tying a thick, heavy knot. He’d shared Bree with so many people over the years, too many for his taste. He didn’t deny Sydney needed her mother. But he’d be damned if a five-year-old dictated his sleeping arrangements.
Start out as you intend to go, Nana’s often used words of advice came to him now.
Nick kept his tone even, but heard the edge of steel all the same. “We discussed this all a few weeks ago, remember, Princess? Your mom and I told you we were going to get married and we’d all be a family. That means your mom and I are a couple now. And I think I should have a say so in where my wife sleeps.”
Chapter 7
An hour later, Bree, clasping the precious locket to her chest, leaned her forehead against the cool pane of glass. She looked out into the dark night from Sydney’s second floor bedroom window.
Her breath steamed on the glass, fogging her view. Her daughter’s faint snoring in the bunk bed behind her comforted Bree, assuring her at least Sydney seemed at peace.
Hugging herself, Bree trembled. Her hands did little to heat her bare, icy arms. The thin T-shirt she now wore held no warmth or protection.
“You’re not a virgin, silly,” she scolded herself softly. It did nothing to still the quivers. “You might as well be for all the shaking you’re doing. And for all your lack of experience.”
That little remembered tidbit only increased her nervousness. Nick would discover that glaring fact soon enough, hence the problem.
She knew Nick waited for her on the front porch; he’d warned her when he came in to kiss Sydney goodnight. She shifted her stare to the roofed porch below and to her left, seeking him out.
The crescent moon cast silvery light across the yard. An arch of yellow widened as the door opened. A shadow moved restlessly, merging with the buttery luminosity, next swallowed into the darkness, and then materializing once again.
“Nick,” she whispered, realizing he prowled the wide, wooden planks. He acted as jittery as she felt. That little bit of knowledge forged a lasting kinship with him.
After all, we’re in this together, she reasoned. Her instinctive withdrawal from Nick splintered, and then peeled away.
Gathering her courage, Bree stood, straight and tall, ready to face the inevitable. Wiping her damp palms on her faded jeans, she marched out of the small room and down the stairway.
She slowed when she neared the big, wide opening to the porch. With each step, her heart crashed against her ribs in a wild tempo.
Gulping hard, she pressed on toward the threshold. She gasped in alarm as Nick came into view. He filled the frame, tall and broad-shouldered.
Lord, he looked handsome in his dark blue UCONN sweatshirt, a hint of white underneath revealing his T-shirt, and tight well-worn jeans. “I was just coming out…” her voice trailed off.
He stepped back, giving her room to pass. A wave of his body heat and his scent attacked her, causing her to stumble. He caught her easily, pulling her close. She held herself rigid for long, drawn-out moments, and then, in spite of her mental opposition, she succumbed to the irresistible man cradling her. Time stood still for Bree. Enveloped in his welcoming, comforting embrace, she drank it all in. His warm, large hands splayed on her back, reminded her of much needed balm to a raw wound.
Here she discovered a serenity she felt nowhere else. Here, in his strong arms, she received no harsh judgments, only solace from the guilt and shame she heaped on herself. Here she found a safe haven.
Tucking her face into the side of his neck, Bree inhaled the
“Come on, honey, I’ll carry you upstairs and help you get ready for bed,” Bree coaxed.
“You, too.”
“After I help your Poppa unload the truck, all right?”
“You’ll stay with me?” Sydney asked. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.
“Ah…” Bree hesitated.
Something inside Nick tightened, tying a thick, heavy knot. He’d shared Bree with so many people over the years, too many for his taste. He didn’t deny Sydney needed her mother. But he’d be damned if a five-year-old dictated his sleeping arrangements.
Start out as you intend to go, Nana’s often used words of advice came to him now.
Nick kept his tone even, but heard the edge of steel all the same. “We discussed this all a few weeks ago, remember, Princess? Your mom and I told you we were going to get married and we’d all be a family. That means your mom and I are a couple now. And I think I should have a say so in where my wife sleeps.”
Chapter 7
An hour later, Bree, clasping the precious locket to her chest, leaned her forehead against the cool pane of glass. She looked out into the dark night from Sydney’s second floor bedroom window.
Her breath steamed on the glass, fogging her view. Her daughter’s faint snoring in the bunk bed behind her comforted Bree, assuring her at least Sydney seemed at peace.
Hugging herself, Bree trembled. Her hands did little to heat her bare, icy arms. The thin T-shirt she now wore held no warmth or protection.
“You’re not a virgin, silly,” she scolded herself softly. It did nothing to still the quivers. “You might as well be for all the shaking you’re doing. And for all your lack of experience.”
That little remembered tidbit only increased her nervousness. Nick would discover that glaring fact soon enough, hence the problem.
She knew Nick waited for her on the front porch; he’d warned her when he came in to kiss Sydney goodnight. She shifted her stare to the roofed porch below and to her left, seeking him out.
The crescent moon cast silvery light across the yard. An arch of yellow widened as the door opened. A shadow moved restlessly, merging with the buttery luminosity, next swallowed into the darkness, and then materializing once again.
“Nick,” she whispered, realizing he prowled the wide, wooden planks. He acted as jittery as she felt. That little bit of knowledge forged a lasting kinship with him.
After all, we’re in this together, she reasoned. Her instinctive withdrawal from Nick splintered, and then peeled away.
Gathering her courage, Bree stood, straight and tall, ready to face the inevitable. Wiping her damp palms on her faded jeans, she marched out of the small room and down the stairway.
She slowed when she neared the big, wide opening to the porch. With each step, her heart crashed against her ribs in a wild tempo.
Gulping hard, she pressed on toward the threshold. She gasped in alarm as Nick came into view. He filled the frame, tall and broad-shouldered.
Lord, he looked handsome in his dark blue UCONN sweatshirt, a hint of white underneath revealing his T-shirt, and tight well-worn jeans. “I was just coming out…” her voice trailed off.
He stepped back, giving her room to pass. A wave of his body heat and his scent attacked her, causing her to stumble. He caught her easily, pulling her close. She held herself rigid for long, drawn-out moments, and then, in spite of her mental opposition, she succumbed to the irresistible man cradling her. Time stood still for Bree. Enveloped in his welcoming, comforting embrace, she drank it all in. His warm, large hands splayed on her back, reminded her of much needed balm to a raw wound.
Here she discovered a serenity she felt nowhere else. Here, in his strong arms, she received no harsh judgments, only solace from the guilt and shame she heaped on herself. Here she found a safe haven.
Tucking her face into the side of his neck, Bree inhaled the
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