Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(100)

“Hello.”

That whiskey-smooth drawl was like a silken hand stroking down his back . . . or other things. He cleared his throat. Speak, dumb-ass.

“Hi!”

Saved by the Clayton-meister.

Mentally blowing out a breath, he watched as his son rocked back and forth on his heels, smiling up at the woman.

“Are you here for the program?” she asked.

“I am!” Clayton stuck out his hand. “I’m Clay. I love books. My dad tells me stories. All the time. Sometimes he even makes them up. He gets paid to do that, too.”

Despite the total insanity of the moment, Trey found himself biting back a laugh.

That boy, in so many ways, had been a bright and strong light in what would have been nothing but a pit of misery for far too long.


*

Oh, honey . . . come to mama.

Ressa Bliss would have been licking her chops if she had been anywhere remotely private.

Long, almost too lean, with a heavy growth of stubble and a mouth made for kissing, biting . . . other things . . .

He wore a pair of dark glasses that hid too much of his face, and she wanted to reach up, pull them off.

Because she wanted to too much, she focused on the boy instead.

She shook his hand, much of what he’d just said running together in her head. She’d caught his name, though. “Well, hello, Clay. It’s lovely to meet you.”

He grinned at her, displaying a tooth that looked like it might fall out at any second—literally. She thought it might be hanging in there by luck alone.

Clayton caught the man’s hand in his and leaned against him. “This is my daddy.”

She slid Mr. Beautiful a look. “Hello, Clayton’s daddy.”

He gave her a one-sided smile. “Hi.” Then he crouched in front of his son. “So. Program lasts for fifty minutes. I’ll be over in the grown-ups area if you need me.”

“That area is boring.” Clayton wrinkled up his nose.

“Well, if I stay here, I’ll just play.” A real grin covered his face now and Ressa felt her heart melt. Since he was distracted, she shot a look at his hands—ring? Did he have one?

Crap. Some sort of gloves covered his hands from knuckle to well up over his wrists. No way to tell.

Clayton leaned in and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Love you.”

And her heart melted even more as he turned his face into his son’s neck. “Love you, too, buddy. Have fun.”

A man like that was most certainly not unattached.

But she still stole one last quick glance as he walked away.

The back was every bit as fine as the front.