Chapter 22: What Now?Rolling over on the bedroll, I draped one arm over where Conal should be – and hastily opened my eyes when I discovered him missing. Turning over, I scanned the cramped living quarters.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Conal cradled Patrick in one arm and was feeding him a bottle, his harsh features softened as he gazed down at the tiny bundle. The image was a lesson in opposites – Conal's big hand cradling the tiny bottle, his dark coloring a stark contrast to Patrick's fair skin. Patrick's fist gripped Conal's little finger, his whole hand incapable of circling the distance. I rose on my elbow, pulling the sleeping bag up over my naked breasts. Conal glanced up and smiled warmly. “Morning, Sugar. In fact, it's good afternoon.”
My gaze fell on Patrick again, reass
