“I’m going to go earn ten million dollars,” I say to her and head for the stairs.

She follows behind. “This I have to see.”

We find Gray in a nursery that would fit right into a design catalog. I know Fi decorated it, and she’s clearly talented. Gray’s slumped in a glider trying to give his agitated son a bottle. But the little guy is screaming, his tiny fists beating against Gray’s arm.

“It’s my turn to feed him,” Gray says without looking up. “So bottled breast milk it is. He hates it. I know, little dude,” he says to the baby. “I love Mommy’s boobs too, but she needs to sleep.”

From the far room, a muffled groan rings out. “Mother guilt has killed my sleep,” says Ivy’s disembodied voice. “And don’t discuss my boobs with my son, Cupcake.”

I glance through a connecting door and see her long legs sprawled over a massive bed. Fi is short, but Ivy is a good six feet tall. At the moment, she’s totally wiped.

“Hand him over, Grayson,” I say.

Gray looks at me as if I’m nuts, then shakes his head and offers me his son. His trust is something I will never take for granted. And guilt hits me anew for touching Fi. But now I have a wiggling, screaming one month old in my hands.

Walking over to the changing table, I pull out one of the many swaddling blankets they have stacked—unused—on the shelves. Leo turns a nice shade of angry red as I wrap him up tight, tucking his arms against his body. The result is a securely swaddled baby with only his head sticking out.

Gray and Fi come to watch, clearly curious. But when I pick Little G up and loudly shush him, they both flinch.

“Dex, dude, what—”

I give Gray a quelling look and shush the crying baby again, right in his ear. Finally he hears me and abruptly quiets as I gently jiggle his little body, all the while shushing.

Ivy’s head pops around the doorway. Her dark eyes are wide with shock.

“What—”

Gray waves a frantic hand to quiet her, but I shake my head and walk back to the glider. “Don’t be afraid of noise,” I tell them. “Little man has been hearing it his entire existence. Well, until he was born and you guys started going silent on him.”

I give the baby his bottle, and he begins to drink as I rock.

Fi comes to stand next to me. “And how do you know so much about babies?”

“My little brother was a surprise. My parents had him when I was seventeen. I know about babies.”

I glance at Ivy and Gray, who are both gaping at me. “If you have a white-noise machine, I suggest you turn it on now and keep it on high.”

Gray scrambles to get it, and Ivy comes closer. “Dex, I’m this close to crying at your feet right now. Don’t ever leave me.”

“Can we share him?” Gray asks as he turns on the machine.

I get up and hand Gray the baby. “Keep him swaddled. Do the shushing and jiggling thing if he wakes. I’m going to send you some video links in the meantime.”

Ivy flings herself at me. “I love you, Dex.”

“He’s half mine,” Gray reminds her. His bleary eyes meet mine. “I’ll send you a check when I can see straight, man.”

“I took your X-Box into my room. That’s payment enough.”

Gray waves a hand as he tucks his son close to his chest. “You can have the damn thing. I still might kiss you.”

“Promises, promises.” I do give the top of Ivy’s head a kiss. She smells of breast milk and baby. But deep beneath that, there’s a strange similarity to Fi. Nothing as potent, but enough to make me aware that she’s Fi’s sister.

I am aware of Fi as well, following me out of the room. We’re quiet as we walk up the next flight of stairs to the guest level. Together. Alone.

Every touch, every slow glide of lips, tongue, fingertips. Every breathy sigh. All of what she did to me plays through my head like a footage reel.

Her cheeks are flushed now, her nipples pointing through the thin, silky ivory top she’s wearing. I want to push my thumb against one of those buds. Pull her shirt over her head and…

I clear my throat as we reach our doors, one on each side of the small landing. She hesitates, obviously searching for something to say.

I know what I’d like to say. Kiss me again. Let me in. Just…let me. I keep my mouth shut. Fiona Mackenzie isn’t for me. Hell, I can’t even tell her that what we did tonight was the single most erotic experience of my life. I’m sure it was just a strange encounter with a guy and a beard on her part.

I run a hand over my mouth, my fingers digging into my scruff. I suddenly resent my beard. It’s as if she wanted it more than she wanted me, and I can’t stand that. “Well,” I say before she can speak. “Goodnight.”

“Dex,” she says as I open my door.

I pause, my heart thudding against my ribs. But I don’t turn. I don’t want her to see my expression. “Yep.”

“Thanks.” She takes an audible breath. “For helping my sister and Gray. It means so much to them.”

Disappointment punches through my chest with the force of a lineman. I manage a nod. “It was nothing.” Which I guess sums up my entire night.

Chapter Three

Fiona

Breakfast at Ivy and Gray’s house starts at 11 a.m. Which is fine by me. After I went to bed last night, I tossed and turned far too long, the ache in my nipples and slick throb between my legs demanding attention I wasn’t willing to give. Not with Dex across the hall. Not when I’d have thought of Dex while doing it. That would only have made things worse.