did not just see Zephyr as a means to an end. When he contemplated walking away from Jaya or Zephyr, everything in him went bleak and gray. His sense of responsibility toward the boy was quickly shifting beyond the desire to provide food and shelter. Quentin might be the better father figure, but Theo couldn’t shake Jaya’s comment that maybe he’d never developed any deep relationships because he didn’t cultivate them.
It wasn’t fair to Zephyr to not even try, was it?
Zephyr stopped bouncing and gave an exhausted sigh, like he’d finished chopping a cord of wood. Theo found himself grinning in amusement.
“Finally worn out?” He settled the boy against his chest where Zephyr let his head droop, fingers still in his mouth and eyelids heavy.
He wasn’t a man who cuddled, preferring his own space unless he was busy with a woman between the sheets, but there was an addictive quality to a baby’s snuggled warmth against his shoulder. It was a sense of all-powerfulness. Success at creating a moment of contentment for another human being. After a childhood of being found wanting, he wallowed in Zephyr’s unconditional appreciation of having his simplest needs met.
It’s just Mother Nature’s plan, he tried to dismiss, but a very tiny voice—feminine and lilting with an Indian accent—whispered that maybe it was a father’s nature to be happy when his child was happy.
Stunned, he swallowed a lump of emotion, hands cradling his son tenderly as the connection between them wound through him like a creeping vine, hooking into his vital organs in such a way there’d be damage to both of them if they were pulled apart.
Jaya’s quiet voice grew louder, speaking to Evie as she appeared with the girl. Her eyes went soft when she saw him holding Zephyr so close, making Theo feel as though he was out on that high wire again, a brisk gale cutting up the canyon toward him.
He lowered his gaze. This was too personal a moment to have even Jaya witness.
“Trade?” he asked in a voice like sandpaper, reluctant to let the boy go, but he was so shaken by his flood of primal instinct to protect and nurture, he let her steal the sleepy baby and tried to distract himself by coaxing a smile from Evie with a promise of a swim later.
It was soon back to chaos, Androu waking shortly after Evie and both of them hungry. He was washing mashed banana out of Androu’s hair, using the wet cloth to spike it into a Mohawk, wondering if he was getting the hang of this parenting thing after all, when a knock at the door interrupted them.
Jaya was in her room, answering emails while Zephyr napped in there with her. He sidled to the peephole and saw Nic, Rowan and Adara distorted by the fisheye lens.
Never one to appreciate unexpected visitors, he snapped open the door. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Are they okay? Where are they?” The women rushed past him like fans into a rock concert, invading his space.
Nic entered at a more laconic pace, scanning the suite in the way of someone who made his living by sharp observations.
Theo suppressed a prickle of irritability. The place was littered in toys and dirty dishes. Much as he didn’t really care about being judged over something like that, he also made it a habit to keep from providing opportunities to be judged.
“They were anxious so I chartered a helicopter,” Nic said. “Gideon had to stay with the ship. Everyone is okay, but what a mess. I don’t envy him. There’s my girl.” He broke into a wide smile as he caught Evie reaching from Rowan’s arms into his.
“It’s not that we didn’t trust you, Theo. We just missed them so much,” Rowan said, her light touch on his arm apologetic.
He gave a jerky shrug, subtly removing himself from her uninvited touch even though he didn’t hate it. She was nice enough and being sincere. It was just he wasn’t at his best, accosted by a lot right now with their unexpected visit and a distant, illogical disappointment he didn’t want to examine. He didn’t need her standing too close, sensing his tension, reading his vibe for him.
“It’s fine, I understand,” he said, and strangely, kind of did. His chest filled with pressure at the way his sister was smothering the life out of Androu. Her eyes were closed, her lashes wet. He had a new understanding of how precious their babies were to them and was suffused with a weird self-conscious pride that he’d been able to keep their offspring safe for them, whether they had really trusted him to do so or not.
“I knew he’d be fine. He knows you,” Adara said, voice thick. “But Gideon threw you into the deep end with both of them. I’m glad you called Jaya—she’s perfect—but what made you think of her? How did you know she was here? Where is she?”
Before Theo could get past the suffocation provoked by questions about Jaya, she said, “I’m here.”
They all turned toward her voice.
“Sorry,” she said with a flash of anxious eyes at Theo. “The commotion woke him and he needs a drink.”
Zephyr looked sweaty and flushed, hair damp and pushed up in tufts around the face he buried in Jaya’s neck to hide.
Theo moved to fetch the boy’s cup, distancing himself from something he didn’t want to face, then kicked himself just as quickly. This was exactly the kind of abandonment he would hate himself for inflicting on his son. Or Jaya, for that matter.
“I’m sorry we spoiled his nap,” he heard Rowan say and glanced across to see her peeking at the boy over his mother’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Baby Zepper,” Evie provided from her happy perch on Nic’s bent arm.
“Zephyr,” Jaya corrected softly, smiling at Evie. “You’ve been my best little helper, haven’t you? She’s been very sweet with both of them.”
“Zephyr,” Rowan repeated. “That’s lovely. Greek god of wind, right?”
Theo absorbed the meaning, wondering if it was a deliberate reference to his love of piloting, thinking, I really don’t deserve her, as he crossed with Zephyr’s sipping cup.
“Thanks,” Jaya said with a flickering gaze of apprehension as he approached. She rubbed Zephyr’s back to get his attention. “Want your cup, sweetie?”
Zephyr lifted his head and spied the cup, but rather than wait for Jaya to take it, he leaned out for Theo.
Theo was getting used to the boy’s impulsive launches. He caught him in what was becoming a practiced scoop and hitched him up against his chest. The air in his lungs stopped moving as he held the cup for the boy, aware of how telling his actions were, how much like a father he must appear. How close a copy of Androu Zephyr was.
Zephyr’s little hands settled over his big one while profound silence fell over the room like a dome.
Theo forced himself to lift his gaze and meet each pair of stunned eyes. They had to be reading guilt in him. It sprang from ignoring Jaya’s attempts to contact him and thinking he could ignore someone as important as his son. He was ashamed of himself, not Zephyr.
Disgust with himself made him blurt, “He’s mine,” aware that it was the clumsiest possible way he could have announced it, but he couldn’t dance around it. Not when Nic was drilling him a look that said, You lucky bastard.
His half brother blinked and the envy was gone, replaced by a doting smile at Evie, but it was the reinforcement Theo needed to keep inching across the hot coals cooking him from the soles of his feet to his collar. Maybe he wasn’t doing this well, but he’d figured out what was right and he’d do that much.
In his periphery, he saw Jaya lift an uncertain hand then fold her arms defensively. Don’t, he wanted to say. Don’t be embarrassed for me. I don’t care how stupid I look, only that I not fail where it counts.
Over Zephyr’s loud gulps, Androu made a noise and put out his hand.
“I told you before, sport,” Theo said,