on her panties and skirt. When she stood, she suspected her panties were on backward.
Confused about what she should do next, she pushed her hair out of her face and walked toward the room where Emma was supposed to be sleeping. She glanced inside in the darkness and saw the outline of Benjamin standing as he rocked from side to side with Emma in his arms.
She didn’t want to interrupt because it appeared he’d successfully quieted her. Her heart twisted. More progress between Dad and his daughter. A few moments ago, however, she’d thought of him as anything but a dad.
Coco stood there for a few moments to collect her breath and sense. What did it mean that they had nearly made love? What next? Should she stay awake or try to go to sleep?
Slowly, she walked to her bedroom and sank onto the bed, her head still spinning. Coco could hardly believe that Benjamin was really interested in her. She’d always viewed herself as very ordinary, but with determination. That determination had kept her sane during life’s less sane moments. And this was one crazy moment. Coco knew that she was no bombshell, like the woman who had given birth to Benjamin’s child.
Wash your face. Brush your teeth. Things will be clearer in the morning. How many times had her mother repeated those words to her? Coco followed her mother’s advice, then crawled into bed and told herself to stop thinking about Benjamin. But then she turned on the baby monitor just in case Benjamin went to sleep and Emma awakened again.
In a low voice, more breath than song, Benjamin hummed a lullaby to Emma. Her heart swelled so much it hurt at the loving sound, and she closed her eyes at her odd instinct to cry. She was no crybaby. Why was this happening to her? She couldn’t remember a man affecting her so deeply. It was as if he reached her on a cellular level. The possibility was disturbing. She took a deep breath to still the feelings rolling through her.
She tried counting backward from one hundred to fall asleep, but somehow Benjamin’s lullaby made her drift off.
The next morning she awakened to the sound of Emma chattering through the nursery monitor. She allowed the baby to experience some time by herself. It was good for Emma to self-soothe for a short time.
Coco’s mind wandered to thoughts about Benjamin. Something inside her had solidified. She knew she had strong feelings for him. She knew he was important to her. Coco smiled and bounced out of bed, ready for the day. Ready for her future with whatever happened between her and Benjamin.
She threw on some clothes and made a quick trip to wash her face and brush her teeth then raced into Emma’s room. “Well, good mornin’ darlin’,” she said as the baby began to fuss.
Emma glanced at her and gave a welcoming chortle.
Coco changed the baby and picked her up. “Who wants a bottle and breakfast?”
Emma began her version of a morning chat with unintelligible, but happy sounds. “Bottle first?” A moment later, Coco warmed a bottle and sat on the sofa to feed the baby. Emma gave a few burps and Coco put her in the pack and play.
Coco grabbed a quick shower. When she walked out of her bedroom dressed, with wet hair, Benjamin greeted her in the hallway. “’Morning,” he said.
Her heart hammered against her chest. “’Morning,” she returned. “I’ve already given Emma her bottle. She should be ready for breakfast soon. Did she keep you awake too long last night?”
“Just awhile,” he said, and raked his hand through his damp hair. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. That shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have—” He broke off.
Her heart felt as if it broke in half. “Shouldn’t have?” she prompted.
“Shouldn’t have kissed you. Shouldn’t have gone after you like that,” he said.
She worked hard to take a breath. “Are you saying you didn’t want me?” she managed, confused and so hurt.
“Not want you,” he echoed and looked away. “At that moment, I did,” he said. “But it still shouldn’t have happened. I don’t want you to start thinking this engagement is real. Last night wouldn’t have happened if we were still in Texas.” He met her gaze. “I can’t get into a relationship right now. I have too much going on.”
Coco crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that the same way you felt about Brooke?”
He took a sharp breath and shook his head. “Brooke was a crazy impulse. I broke all my rules. I don’t want to do that again.”
She struggled to swallow over the lump in her throat. “Okay. I’ll feed Emma.”
She turned away and felt his hand on her arm. But she didn’t turn to look at him because she wasn’t sure she could control her facial expression. “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why we can’t do this.”
She pulled her arm away from him. “I’ll feed Emma.”
Thank goodness for the baby. She demanded and received so much of Coco’s attention that for the next several hours, she managed not to look Benjamin in the eye. It was for the best. What should have been a make-out session had turned into something far more for Coco. Crazy. Stupid. She would be more careful from this moment on. She wouldn’t give in to silly secret feelings for Benjamin. She just wished she’d never given herself permission to even consider Benjamin as her man.
After spending most of the day inside, Coco was ready to scream. She needed to get out. She needed to get away from Benjamin. She called Mr. Bernard to ask about an outing. He suggested a few possibilities and Coco selected the beach. Slathering Emma with baby-safe sunscreen and dressing her in a protective baby bathing suit, Coco plopped a hat on the tot’s head and got ready.
When Mr. Bernard knocked at the door, Coco was just about ready.
Benjamin answered the door and Coco grabbed Emma and raced to greet their guide. “Emma and I are going to the beach,” she said breathlessly. “We’ll see you later,” she said and walked out the door, feeling a smidgeon of self-satisfaction that Benjamin was staring after her and the baby with a surprised look on his face.
Mr. Bernard told her a bit about Chantaine’s beaches and warned her that the ocean temperature might be a little chilly for the baby. She appreciated his consideration. With help from him, she was quickly situated on the beach with an umbrella, chaise longue and an extra-large towel.
Coco put Emma in her infant carrier, and for once, the baby didn’t struggle to escape. Emma sat, appearing relaxed, with her eyes half-open. Coco smiled at the sight of Emma, wondering if the sound of the ocean was soothing to the baby.
Sighing, she leaned back against her chair and let the breeze and surf sounds assuage her own riot of feelings and thoughts. With one eye on Emma, Coco watched the soft whitecaps as they gently met the shore. She wondered how often Prince Edward had taken solace at the sight of the sea. Everyone had told her how much he had loved yachting.
The last time Coco had been to the ocean had been three years ago—a too-brief trip with college friends. Her favorite part of that trip had been a walk on the beach by herself. Was that something she had in common with her birth father? Or was it just crazy to consider that she had anything in common with him except some genetic material?
Coco dismissed her debates and focused on the peace and relaxation of the moment.
