Bringing Home the Bad Boy (Second Chance #1)(73)
Time stopped.
Had Evan implied he wanted to have a child with her?
And now her head was spinning.
He poked her under the ribs. “Diaphragm, Ace. Breathe.”
She breathed.
“Scares you to death, doesn’t it?”
Lying, she shook her head. It did. It scared her in a way she couldn’t understand. Scared her silly.
When she stood, he stood with her, grasped her upper arms again, and turned her gently toward him. “Can’t fix that part for you,” he stated. “The scared part, you not dealing with your fears part.” He lowered his head and met her again-watering eyes. “But I promise, I’ll be here when you come around.”
She shook her head again. She wasn’t the one who needed to come around. She—she… she’d lost her train of thought. Lost it on all the words he’d spoken since they’d curled up in her heart like a litter of purring kittens.
… you living in my house, working out of yours, coming with Lyon and me on vacation…
… you in the role of mom, me in the role of dad…
… talk to him about sex, and college, or let him know he’s got a brother or sister on the way…
“Not going anywhere.”
She looked up at Evan, his expression serious.
He shook his head for emphasis. “Not going anywhere, baby. Not giving you a break. Not giving you an out. Including tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Wasn’t in your bed one night and I hated it. Not gonna give you a break until you know I’m here for good. Here wanting you, wanting us, wanting this every single day.”
This… was too much to process.
“Charlie, baby, I’m not letting you hide from this the way you’ve been hiding from all the things in your life that have hurt you.”
“I—”
“Kiss me.”
The bedroom door was closed, but she could imagine Pat and Cliff, and Lyon, on the other side of it. Eyes filled with judgment, concern, confusion… “They could find out.”
“I know, Ace,” he said. Unbelievably. “And that’s okay.”
“But this room—”
“Rae’s room. Pat and Cliff’s house. Almost too much for you, isn’t it? One kiss and I’ll take you back to my room.”
“You’re sleeping on the sofa,” she said, pretty sure she’d slipped into a parallel universe, her brain unable to connect incoming thoughts to her current reality.
“I’m sleeping in the bedroom across the hall. Lyon wanted to sleep in the family room.”
“Evan—”
“I sat up with him and we read and talked and I tucked him in. He’s out. Feelin’ no pain.”
“Evan.”
“Kiss me, Ace.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she said, “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I can’t.” With weak hands, she shoved him.
He stood firm. Closed his hands over hers. “You will.”
Hearing his smile, she opened her eyes. Sure enough, a sexy curve sat on his lips.
“All we’ve been through, you don’t trust me? Don’t think I’m putting your needs ahead of mine? Can’t see that’s what I’ve been doing since I got here?”
She hadn’t thought about it that way.
“Wine for Charlie.”
“Turkey burgers, Ace.”
“Let go, baby. Take it.”
“You deserve it.”
“I have another remedy, guaranteed to make you feel better.”
He was right. Everything he’d done, he put her first. He was the one pulling her along, patiently waiting for her to catch up.
“Ace,” he prompted again.
This time she didn’t hesitate.
Looping her arms around his neck, she kissed him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
And Evan had thought seeing his kid’s heart break had broken him.
Watching Charlie realize not only that she hadn’t grieved Rae, but also hadn’t dealt with the loss of her family, hurt him to watch.
Much as he hated to, there was no way he couldn’t point that out. His future with her depended on it.
A future with Charlie was the only future worth considering.
He wasn’t sure when he’d decided, but it was there. Cemented in his gut—in his heart—in Lyon’s hopeful expression when she’d walked into the hospital room today.
He hadn’t been sure he’d get her over this hump—the one where she’d dumped him on the Mosleys’ deck—but given the way she moved her lips against his now, he had a pretty good guess she’d let him back in a little.
A little isn’t enough.
Hands sifting into her thick, blond hair, he slid a palm to the small of her back and pressed her womanly hips against his. She mewled in the back of her throat and he squeezed her ass and pressed into her again.
Another mewl.
The sounds she made lit him on fire, and if that didn’t do it, the way she stroked his tongue with hers, while standing on her tiptoes—practically climbing him like a cat on a tree—yeah. That would do it.
About the time her fingers moved to thread into his hair and he cupped her breast, a knock at the door pulled them apart. He turned his head but held her close.