He nods, and he places his hand on my arm, giving it a comforting squeeze, one that doesn’t feel brotherly at all. “This must be hard for you, too. Maybe I’m asking too much.”
The sadness in his voice curls around my heart. “I’m okay,” I say quickly. “I don’t mind helping Daisy.” I’m not about to discuss my demons with this man. A man I hate. A man I’m thinking about having sex with.
Good Lord, Quinn. Get yourself together already.
Jonah lets the subject drop. If there is one thing he’s good at, it’s reading a room, and I’m beginning to believe he knows me better than I think he does.
He takes the rail I’ve been holding and attaches it to the stationary crib side. Once he finishes that, he goes to work on putting the brackets on the base. I stand back for a moment and admire him as he works, take pleasure in the way his muscles ripple and relax again as he steps up to be the man Daisy needs him to be.
“Grab that,” he commands in a soft voice and gestures to the rail. I comply, my body quivering slightly as he takes charge. Would he be as demanding in the bedroom?
A noise I have no control over crawls out of my throat.
“You okay?”
“Ah, yeah, just twisted my finger,” I fib.
“Let me see.” As he stands over me, taking my hand to examine it, I become acutely aware of his size, his hardness, our close proximity. His eyes narrow. “Which finger?”
I hold out my index…and he brings it to his mouth, dropping a soft kiss onto the tip.
My entire body comes alive, and I jerk my hand back. “What…what are you doing?”
His head rears back. “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” He grips the back of his neck, a familiar habit when he’s uncomfortable. “That’s what my mom used to do when I was a kid, and maybe having Daisy here is just messing with me. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
“It’s okay, Jonah. We’ve touched a million times.”
“Not like that,” he says, as we both stand there, staring at each other, tension taking up space between us.
I finally break the moment and say, “We better get this done before Daisy wakes up.”
“Right,” he says, stepping back, the spell between us broken.
I help him lift the base and attach it to the crib ends. As he tightens all the screws, I stand back and look at the pretty white sleigh crib.
“It’s perfect,” I say, and don’t miss the longing in my voice. God, what is going on with me today? I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to have a family of my own a long-ass time ago. Yet in the span of one day, Daisy has tugged at all my maternal instincts.
Jonah stands and crosses his arms. He nudges me. “Good job.”
I laugh. “I didn’t do much.”
Just then, Daisy’s cries come through the monitor.
“Is she hungry again?” he asks, his body going tense.
“Or she needs a diaper change.”
He looks at me, and I’ve never seen such horror on a man’s face before. I do my best not to laugh at him.
“I’m not doing that,” he says adamantly.
“Oh, yeah you are,” I say, and put my arm through his. I give him a tug but he doesn’t budge. Jesus, he’s strong.
“Quinn…” There is pleading in his voice.
“Come on, you have to learn. I’m not always going to be here to help you out, you know.”
“How long will you be here?” he asks, and for the briefest of seconds, his look isn’t one of fear, it’s longing.