Instead, she wore a frilly apron and held a worn spatula in her left hand. There was a stack of piping hot pancakes next to the stove, and the smell of bacon in the air was making my stomach growl with desire.

“She’s outside,” Lailah answered, pointing to the large deck just beyond the kitchen.

The sun was beginning to rise, casting a halo of light over the murky blue water.

I caught the faint smirk of my sister-in-law as I wandered toward the slider, and then I instantly froze. Outside, Cara was slowly bouncing my niece in her arms, looks of pure contentment upon both their faces. A small giggle broke the silence as Meara laughed, causing Cara to smile from ear to ear.

Jesus.

“They’ve been out there for thirty minutes or so,” Lailah whispered, standing next to me.

I hadn’t even noticed that she’d moved. I’d been completely rendered immobile by the scene playing out in front of me.

“I bet, if you went out there, Cara would teach you how to hold her,” Lailah said with an impish grin before meandering back to the kitchen.

I knew she was goading me, egging me on, like I was some insolent child who didn’t know any better.

But I went anyway.

Sliding the door back, I caught Cara’s attention almost immediately.

“Good morning,” she greeted me, settling her gaze back down on her tiny charge.

Normally, I’d feel dismissed by the sudden loss of eye contact, but seeing her attentiveness to my niece did something to me.

I felt like that damn Grinch who stole all the Christmas presents but then ended up growing a heart in the end—the sudden rush of emotions overwhelmed me.

Desire, longing, and something innately primal.

A need to make her mine.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked.

Clearing my throat, I lifted a shaky hand toward my niece’s tender head. I’d never actually touched her. The uninvolved, careless bachelor in me said it was against the rules. Men like me didn’t touch things as precious as her.

As precious as both of them

My hand fell back to my side.

I didn’t deserve any of this.

“Yes.” She smiled weakly. “As well as could be expected with jet lag.”

“Mmm,” I agreed, looking out toward the waves in hopes of gaining some clarity.

There were a few stragglers on the beach. Runners, walkers… some just strolling down the shoreline, staring into the endless ocean.

For answers? Peace? Serenity?

It made me wonder how many of us had peered at these same waves year after year, wishing for all the holes in our lives to be filled. How many hopeless dreams had been wasted on these swirling tides?

“Do you want to take her? I need to go get ready,” Cara announced, holding Meara’s fragile body out toward mine.

The little child glanced up at me with raw curiosity, her bright green eyes assessing me with a peculiar sense of awareness.