She didn’t smile back. “I don’t. That’s why I’m scared.”

“Mom does. I do. You’ll have a lot of help.” He stopped talking then, pursing his lips.

“What?”

He reached for a bottle of shampoo that Daisy had left behind and started lathering her hair, making her hum contentedly.

“This must be how Rory and Jack-Jack feel when I pet them,” she murmured. She leaned her forehead against his chest, closing her eyes to fully enjoy the feel of his hands in her hair, massaging her scalp. “You should charge for shampoos. You’d have a line out the door.”

“Nah. Unless you’re okay with other people seeing me naked.”

She jerked her gaze to his, then flinched when soap got in her eyes. Irritated, she wiped it away. “Um, no. I find that I’m adamantly opposed to anyone seeing you naked.” She hummed again when he turned them around to rinse the shampoo from her hair, because he covered her eyes. Like her mama had done.

No one had taken care of her like this since she was a little girl, too young to truly appreciate how special it was.

She smiled up at him when he put the conditioner in her hair. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve never done this for anyone before,” he admitted.

“That makes me even luckier. Going back to my question before you tried to distract me with scalp massages—what? You said I’d have a lot of help, then looked like you’d sucked a lemon.”

He sighed, shampooing his hair in about ten seconds. “You’d have help from us. But we’re here.”

“Oh.” Now she got it. “The Romeros would love her, too. And they love me.”

He kissed her forehead. “Maybe you’re borrowing trouble. Amos will wake up.”

“But even then, I wouldn’t see Abigail grow up.” If I go back. After the last few days, she wasn’t so certain.

“But you have all your siblings’ kids when you go back to New Orleans.” His smile was lopsided and sad. “It’ll be a hard choice.”

No, not really, she thought. Because Rafe would be here. “I have a plan.”

He kissed her. “What’s your plan?”

“The Romeros have moved Quill’s life celebration to Sunday afternoon. I’ll go back to New Orleans for that and I’ll pack a few things while I’m there, then I’ll come back here for the rest of my leave. I have to get therapy as a condition of my return, but I could do that here, too. Let’s take these seven and a half weeks and then . . .” She shrugged. “Then we can see.”

He swallowed, his brown eyes filled with a mix of longing and hope that stole her breath. “You’re considering staying? Even after?”

“Yes. I’m not stupid, Raphael Sokolov. What you and I have here is something special. Gideon is here and now Amos. I love my families in New Orleans, but Gideon, Amos, and I—and now Abigail—we have history. Shared memories. And then there’s you.”