Intoxicated (Billionaire Bachelors Club #3.5)(20)

Oh God, the bet. How could I forget? I assume Archer and Gage wish Matt would forget about it. “When are you going to collect? And how?”

“I already put in a call to both of those jackasses and made my request.” When I remain quiet, he sighs. “I asked them to donate the amount to their favorite charity and be done with it.”

“Awww.” I kiss him, loving how thoughtful he is. Someday I am definitely going to marry this man. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“No, you are. Seriously.” He rests his hand against my cheek, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Bryn. You helped me turn my life around. Helped me find love. I owe it all to you.”

“Matt.” My voice trembles and we kiss, his lips lingering on mine. “I love you.” I can’t say it enough.

“I love you too. You’re mine, Bryn. You’re stuck with me.” He grins. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Eight

* * *

Archer

One month since Jackson’s birth

I WALK INTO the living room to find my wife curled up on the couch, little Jackson nestled in her arms as she feeds him. When I realize she hasn’t noticed me yet, I stop short and watch them for a quiet moment.

She looks good, still carrying a little extra weight, but I think those curves are sexy. Her hair is loose, falling far past her shoulders, and she’s wearing an oversized pale blue T-shirt and black leggings. The shirt is yanked up over her chest and Jackson’s dark head is pressed close to her breast. She’s staring down at him, cooing unintelligible sounds as she strokes his hair and face.

Love overwhelms me and sticks in my throat, making it impossible for me to speak. I’m damn lucky to have these two in my life. I don’t know what I did to earn this.

But I’m not questioning it. I’m eternally thankful for my Ivy and my Jackson.

“Why, Daddy . . . are you spying on us?” Ivy asks, her quiet voice interrupting my thoughts.

Chuckling, I settle on the couch beside her. “What if I am?”

“I might call you a creeper.” She shrugs with a little smile just as Jackson falls off her nipple to blink up at me with wide, fathomless, blue eyes.

“You don’t think I’m a creeper, do you, Jackson?” I reach out and touch his lips, then trace his chubby little cheek. He’s a beautiful baby—though I’m probably biased—and he’s fairly easy. Though when he’s mad or upset, he definitely lets us know. The kid has a set of lungs on him that won’t quit.

I try my best to help, which still kind of blows my mind since I didn’t have a good fatherly example growing up. My dad was never around, but I’m determined to be the complete opposite of him. He acts like I’m a nuisance most of the time, even now, though he does dote on his grandchild. Somehow, Jackson has brought my family closer together.

Jackson has also brought Ivy and me closer. I’m stunned at how much I love my wife, how much my love grows for her day in and day out. She’s a wonderful mother, a great wife—my passion for her is at an all-time high.

Yet I haven’t touched her in weeks. I can’t. It’s been over a month—since before Jackson’s birth. I miss feeling her naked skin against mine, miss burying myself inside of her.

The doctor said six weeks, and I don’t want to hurt her or put her at risk. It can’t be easy, pushing an eight pound baby out of your body. She moved like an old woman those first few weeks when she came home from the hospital, but now she’s acting so much more like her pre-baby, normal self, that I’m hopeful.

But I won’t push. I’ll wait the six weeks. It’s the right thing to do, no matter how much it’s slowly killing me.

“Jackson loves his daddy.” Ivy hooks her nursing bra back together and pulls her shirt down, then lifts the baby up so she can burp him. Jackson’s struggling to lift his head already and look at me. A surge of love flows through me, and I touch his head, stroking his soft dark hair as Ivy pats his back repeatedly. A huge burp escapes him, making me laugh, and Ivy grimaces at me.

“Don’t encourage him,” she murmurs. “He’ll turn into such a guy.”

“Babe, I’m afraid he is a guy.” I take Jackson from her and hold him close, breathing in his sweet baby scent, loving the way his head knocks into my jaw as he struggles. Little noises escape him, snorts and coos and funny sounds that make me smile.

Man, I love this kid. I can’t believe Ivy and I created him, that he’s a part of me. I hope only the good parts.

“You’re going to teach him all your bad habits aren’t you?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “I don’t want him to be anything like me.” Well, the bad me. The old me. I’m not that man anymore. Ivy changed me. More like, she made me want to change so I’d be a better man for her.

“What? You don’t want him to be sweet and funny and hardworking?”

I turn my head to look at her. “You think that about me?”

She rolls her eyes. “Duh. Why do you think I married you? You’re smart and sexy and thoughtful. You’re a good husband and father. Why wouldn’t you want your boy to be just like you?”

My chest swells with pride. “I like hearing you say that,” I admit. “I feel the same way about you.”