heâd suddenly envisioned the way sheâd looked early one morning when heâd happened upon her unexpectedly, the sun filtering through the almost gauze-like cotton blouse sheâd had on, giving him more than an eyeful of the firm, supple body beneath. Their night of lovemaking came barreling down the runway of his mind back to him.
Heâd lost the horse to another bidder. And had sacrificed his self-respect. He didnât know what was wrong with him. Heâd always had more control over his thoughts than that.
Connor looked at the pen on his desk. He hadnât even picked it up. Heâd risen early with the intention of getting through the ponderous paperwork that was beginning to pile up on his desk, but he couldnât seem to get his head together.
The baby was crying again. Connorâs frown deepened. It seemed to him that Chase had been doing a lot of crying since last night. Lacy hadnât been down to breakfast when heâd walked into the kitchen, something that struck him as odd. Sheâd been up before him every morning since theyâd entered this arrangement.
He wondered if something was wrong.
For one thing, Lacy didnât let Chase cry. She would stop whatever she was doing and pick the baby up when he seemed upset or uncomfortable.
The crying became louder.
Something had to be wrong. Connor pushed his chair back, stood and walked into the hall. A hall that was well lit instead of being obscured in semidarkness the way it had been when heâd bought the place. One of the first things Lacy had done was insist that he get ceiling light fixtures. The next thing he knew, he had light fixtures on the floor and his half brother Jake on a ladder, installing the new lights for him. Jake had grinned at him and said his past work with the FBI had taught him a thing or two about wiring.
Connor made his way down the hall, following the sound of Chaseâs cries. It wasnât easy getting used to that, to having people volunteering their services, poking themselves into his life when he hadnât asked them to. Not that he ever would have. It wasnât his way. The background heâd had was one of reserve. You didnât ask for help. You did it yourself or it didnât get done. This family network was going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to.
The door to the room Lacy shared with Chase was open. Her latest undertaking, the bedroom, was a work in progress with tools, fabric and things he wouldnât even attempt to identify scattered on the floor.
Connor picked his way slowly, not wanting to step on anything. Baby in her arms, Lacy seemed oblivious to his presence. Wearing paint-splattered jeans and the baggy T-shirt heâd gotten used to seeing her in, she had the look of someone who hadnât slept in the last twenty-four hours.
âWhatâs the matter?â
Her head jerked in his direction. âOh, Connor, sorry, I didnât hear you come in. Iâm sorry if Chase disturbed you.â
The apology irritated him. Did she think he was some kind of heartless ogre, there to complain about a babyâs cries when it was so obvious that Chase was distressed? But because she looked tired, Connor refrained from saying anything, shrugging away her words instead.
âI was just going over bills. I could stand a little disturbing.â He came closer to her, looking at Chase. Still wearing his bright blue sleeper with the feet, the little boy seemed as oblivious to him as his mother had been. âWhatâs wrong with him?â
She wondered if that was an impatient question because Chase had disturbed him, or if it was an intuitive one because he sensed something was wrong with the little boy. Looking at Connor, she didnât see the mark of impatience on his face and gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was a habit.
Lacy passed her hand over the small forehead, brushing back the damp hair. âHeâs running a little
Heâd lost the horse to another bidder. And had sacrificed his self-respect. He didnât know what was wrong with him. Heâd always had more control over his thoughts than that.
Connor looked at the pen on his desk. He hadnât even picked it up. Heâd risen early with the intention of getting through the ponderous paperwork that was beginning to pile up on his desk, but he couldnât seem to get his head together.
The baby was crying again. Connorâs frown deepened. It seemed to him that Chase had been doing a lot of crying since last night. Lacy hadnât been down to breakfast when heâd walked into the kitchen, something that struck him as odd. Sheâd been up before him every morning since theyâd entered this arrangement.
He wondered if something was wrong.
For one thing, Lacy didnât let Chase cry. She would stop whatever she was doing and pick the baby up when he seemed upset or uncomfortable.
The crying became louder.
Something had to be wrong. Connor pushed his chair back, stood and walked into the hall. A hall that was well lit instead of being obscured in semidarkness the way it had been when heâd bought the place. One of the first things Lacy had done was insist that he get ceiling light fixtures. The next thing he knew, he had light fixtures on the floor and his half brother Jake on a ladder, installing the new lights for him. Jake had grinned at him and said his past work with the FBI had taught him a thing or two about wiring.
Connor made his way down the hall, following the sound of Chaseâs cries. It wasnât easy getting used to that, to having people volunteering their services, poking themselves into his life when he hadnât asked them to. Not that he ever would have. It wasnât his way. The background heâd had was one of reserve. You didnât ask for help. You did it yourself or it didnât get done. This family network was going to take a hell of a lot of getting used to.
The door to the room Lacy shared with Chase was open. Her latest undertaking, the bedroom, was a work in progress with tools, fabric and things he wouldnât even attempt to identify scattered on the floor.
Connor picked his way slowly, not wanting to step on anything. Baby in her arms, Lacy seemed oblivious to his presence. Wearing paint-splattered jeans and the baggy T-shirt heâd gotten used to seeing her in, she had the look of someone who hadnât slept in the last twenty-four hours.
âWhatâs the matter?â
Her head jerked in his direction. âOh, Connor, sorry, I didnât hear you come in. Iâm sorry if Chase disturbed you.â
The apology irritated him. Did she think he was some kind of heartless ogre, there to complain about a babyâs cries when it was so obvious that Chase was distressed? But because she looked tired, Connor refrained from saying anything, shrugging away her words instead.
âI was just going over bills. I could stand a little disturbing.â He came closer to her, looking at Chase. Still wearing his bright blue sleeper with the feet, the little boy seemed as oblivious to him as his mother had been. âWhatâs wrong with him?â
She wondered if that was an impatient question because Chase had disturbed him, or if it was an intuitive one because he sensed something was wrong with the little boy. Looking at Connor, she didnât see the mark of impatience on his face and gave him the benefit of the doubt. It was a habit.
Lacy passed her hand over the small forehead, brushing back the damp hair. âHeâs running a little