So she simply sat, holding on to him while she said prayers for her child and drew in the steadying scent of this vital man who’d charged into her life again.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew her up sharply.
“Ms. Ballard?” the surgeon in scrubs called, walking toward her.
Her stomach clenched, and she instinctively reached for Hank’s hand. He linked fingers with her without hesitation.
“Yes, Doctor Milward?”
“Your son came through the operation without any complications… .”
The surgeon continued speaking, but the words blurred in the pool of relief flooding her. She sagged back and Hank’s arm was right there to brace her, a solid wall of support, just like the man. But for how long?
Now that her child’s surgery was successfully completed, so was Hank’s role as stand-in dad.
* * *
For the past two days, he’d worked his tail off to be a stand-up guy for Gabrielle while Max recovered in the hospital. He’d brought her favorite local muffuletta sandwiches and changes of clothes. She’d slept in a chair by her son’s bed—and he used the term sleep lightly. The circles under Gabrielle’s eyes had deepened.
His plans to lighten her load needed to step up a notch before she collapsed.
At least now that Max had been discharged, she hadn’t argued about coming back to the Garden District house with him. He stood in the doorway to the nursery, watching her swap out Max’s diaper and put on a fresh onesie— Yeah, he knew the word onesie now, something he hadn’t picked up from his nieces and nephews.
He took in the way her green cotton dress swirled around her legs as she moved, the glide of her silky blond hair as she leaned over the changing table to coo nonsensical phrases to her son. The joy on her face almost managed to chase away those lines of exhaustion. Regardless, right now, the glow of love and happiness radiating off her damn near blinded him. She was beyond beautiful. She was… He didn’t even know the words or the label.
Not surprising. She’d turned his world upside down all over again.
The brief kiss they’d shared at the hospital had shifted something between them—actually, he would say the change started the night before Max’s surgery when he’d held her until daylight. There was an acceptance of each other’s presence, an ease to the way they spoke. More than one person at the hospital had mistaken them for a couple. And he knew before much longer he was going to have to think about that.
For now, though, he was focused on making sure she didn’t end up in the hospital. Thinking of anything beyond that would place him firmly in jackass territory.
He rapped his knuckles lightly on the open nursery door. “Hello, gorgeous.”
She looked up and smiled self-consciously, lifting her son to her shoulder and patting his back. “You mean, ‘Hello, haggard.’ But I’m cool with that. It’s all worth it now that Max is home.”
Home? He didn’t even consider correcting her. “I’ve got supper downstairs. There’s a porta-crib set up so you can keep him close. Unless you would rather just call it a day. I can bring something up to you.”
“You’ve already done more than enough for me. I’m going to get spoiled.”
“My sisters say all new moms deserve pampering.”
Her smile faded. “Hank, I’m truly grateful, but you don’t have to do all of this for me because of Kevin.”
“What if this isn’t about Kevin?”
She didn’t move, barely blinked, her eyes locked with his. His words hung there between them, linking them as surely as if he’d taken her hand. Or more.
“Uhm—” she chewed her bottom lip for a second “—you mentioned something about supper.”
While she’d neatly avoided the topic, he took it as a victory of sorts that she didn’t argue.
“Right, I did.” He shoved away from the door frame. “Follow me.”
He led her down the lengthy staircase, through the library and opened the double French doors out to the lanai. Live music from a party next door drifted along the evening breeze. A Cajun band played as the neighbor apparently sought to stretch Mardi Gras out even longer.
“I set up Max’s porta-crib here in the corner. If we leave the doors open, you can see him from the table.” He extended his hands. “Pass him to me, and I’ll put him down.”
She froze. What a time to realize he’d never held the kid. Surely he must have? At some point in the hospital, in passing? But the more he searched his memory, the more he realized, nope, he hadn’t. Was it because she hadn’t offered or because he’d never asked?
Slowly, she eased Max from her shoulder and placed him in Hank’s outstretched hands. Holy crap, the kid was tiny and so damn fragile. He’d always thought his siblings were nuts when they pointed out how their newest offspring had somebody’s nose or smile. But right now, he could see his friend in Max’s eyes.
Hank put the boy into his crib, careful to position him just like Gabrielle did, but needing some distance from those familiar eyes.
Gabrielle tipped her head to the side. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” he said past the lump in his throat. “Let’s step outside to eat.”
The table for two had been set with flowers and a candle in a hurricane globe. A cart held their supper and dessert.
She lifted the silver lids on the chafing dishes one at a time, sniffing and sighing at the savory gumbo, crab cakes, all warmed by a flame underneath.
Pulling a chair out for her, he waited for her to sit. “I had the chef go light on the spices. These are things you’ve ordered in the past, so I figured it was a safe bet. There’s a backup in the refrigerator, though.”
“Another muffuletta?” Her eyes twinkled at just the mention of the super large, round sandwich with salami, mozzarella and olives.
“In a heartbeat, if you wish.”
She paused by the chair, her head tipped into the wind. “Actually, you know what I would really like?”
“Name it.” He would find it, buy it, build it, whatever necessary.
“Could we dance?” She swayed to the slower beat of a Cajun fiddle solo. “The music is amazing. It seems a crime not to make the most of it.”
To hell with supper. He opened his arms. She stepped into his embrace, her hand fitting into his. His palm molded to the small of her back and with each step around the lanai, she relaxed closer and closer. Under his touch, the tension eased from her body. She hummed along softly with the tune, the vibration of her voice sweet against his fingertips.
She took such pleasure from such a simple thing—a dance and someone else’s music. He wished he could shower her with more than just nice meals and a shoulder to lean on. The way she worked so hard, building a world for her son out of thrift store finds and scraps of memories pasted into books—well, it damn near broke his heart. He considered himself a practical man, but right now, he was feeling anything but sensible. She deserved spa days to recharge, a home like this.
A man in her life to help shoulder the load.
Next door, couples danced, friends partied at the catered event. A corner of the other lawn was open to view. Sprawling oak trees were lit up with twinkling lights. Sure the party was raucous, but not a huge gala. Rather, family and friends had gathered—much like the sort of thing his dad had said they wanted to throw for him, the sort of shindig he usually avoided.
And now?
He definitely didn’t want his family around questioning what was going on here with Gabrielle. He wouldn’t even know how to answer other than to say that he wanted her and couldn’t walk away. But it wasn’t as if they were actually dating. There was so much mixed up here to be sorted out. She’d loved Kevin. And yeah, he couldn’t stop the sting of guilt from being here in place of his friend.
Her fingers circled along the back of his neck. “Thank you for this, for the past few days, as well. You truly made this so much easier for me than I could have imagined.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Being a stand-in for Kevin, even when it sliced him raw, because right now, he wanted to know that Gabrielle saw him, not a replacement for the man she mourned.
“I probably should have accepted my parents’ offer of help. I really do love my mom, but she takes over rather than helping, and since everything’s a battle, I end up even more exhausted.”
“I get what you mean.” His feet moved in perfect sync with hers, his thoughts, too. “My dad casts a helluva large shadow.”
She leaned back to look into his eyes, the wind lifting her hair. “So why did you choose to go into the same branch of the service, even the same aircraft he flew?”
“It’s what I want to do. Call it genetics, if you will, but it’s what I’m good at.” He couldn’t imagine doing anything else with his life. “Seems ridiculous to pick something that’s not my first choice simply to go a different path.”
“I can see that.”
He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of lavender and pure Gabrielle. “Although, I gotta confess, it would have made life easier.”
“Kevin told me you work twice as hard as everyone else trying to prove you didn’t get anything because of nepotism—when it’s clear to everyone you’re a freakin’ rock star at your job.”
“A rock star, huh?” He could almost hear his friend’s voice through her and, God, he missed Kevin.
“He said some folks knew the science of aviation and navigation, but you knew the art.”
“His opinion means a lot to me. Thanks for sharing that.”
Was Hank ever going to get past the way their lives linked up? Be able to look at Gabrielle without thinking of Kevin? Sure his buddy had been a lighthearted guy, but there’d been no missing how much he’d loved Gabrielle. He’d taken his commitment to her seriously.
Not that any relationship was perfect.
One night, Kevin had gotten drunk and rambled about how much he loved Gabrielle but worried about being the kind of man who could make her happy. He didn’t want to lose her, but she wanted roots and a home.
What a kick in the butt to remember that right now since Hank didn’t have anything different to offer her on that front. “Kevin really loved you.”
She stiffened in Hank’s arms, each breath warm against his neck as she continued to silently follow his dance lead.
“I was with him when he bought the ring.” A day that had damn near ripped his soul out. He clasped her left hand and brought it between them, her ring finger bare. “He called your mom to get your size and some direction on what you wanted.”
Her heart beat faster against their clasped hands. “I wore it on my right hand for a while after he died. I had to take it off at the hospital when Max was born, and I haven’t put it on since. I’ve stored the ring for Max to give his wife one day.”
“I’m sure Kevin would like that.” He actually hadn’t agreed with the ring Kevin and her mom had chosen. He would have picked something simpler, more in keeping with her streamlined style. But she’d seemed happy and that’s what mattered.