Kid cute as fuck.
A slight chuckle rumbled out, and I snagged him around the waist and tossed him onto his back on the bed. I started tickling his sides. “You think you’re gonna be as big as me, huh?”
Gage howled with laughter, clutching his stomach and kicking his feet. “You know it, Dad! I got to be.”
“You gotta be, huh?” I kept tickling him, but soft and with all the love I had for him.
He batted at my hands, laughing and squirming all over the place. “Yes, Dad, yes! I got to be! Otherwise, my uncles are gonna call me shorty for my whole life!”
“Rude.” I widened my eyes with the tease.
“The rudest,” he said with a jerk of his chin, resolute.
I slowed, unable to do anything but gaze down at this kid who was looking at me like I was his hero. Most precious grin spreading across his face, so massive it dimpled his cheeks.
Wanted to be that for him.
His hero.
His rock.
Kind of dad worthy of someone looking at him the way my boy did.
Like I wasn’t covered in scars and sin and shame.
Like my soul wasn’t shrouded in the blemish of the things I’d done.
I ran my hand over the top of his head, pained affection bleeding out. “I do know it. You’re gonna be so big. So strong. So good,” I promised.
Caramel eyes shined. “Just like you.”
Old grief clutched my chest, and I forced a smile. “No way. You’re going to be way better.”
“Those seem like really too high standards, Dad.” He said it all kinds of serious.
Laughter fumbled out, and I ruffled my fingers through his hair.
Fucking Logan.
“Sounds to me like you’ve been spending too much time with Uncle Logan.”
He sat up, more of that earnestness infiltrating his voice. “You crazy? There’s never too much Uncle Logan time.”
My grin was wry as I sat back and hooked my knuckle under my kid’s chin. “I bet he told you that, too.”
Gage scowled. “Bettin’s bad, Dad, don’t you know?”
Kid was a stickler for the rules.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I shook my head, my lips softening as I stared at the child who I’d do anything for. “You look super cool, man, but I think we’re gonna have to ditch the tattoos for your first day of school, yeah?”
A pout took to his face. “Oh man, how come?”
“Because I doubt your teacher is going to appreciate how dang awesome you are.” I shot him my most playful grin, though I was one-hundred-percent serious. Last thing I needed was some rigid bitch on my back.
Judging me.
Judging my kid.
“Go on and have Uncle help you get cleaned up. I’m going to grab a shower and I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
“’Kay, Dad!”
He scrambled off the bed and went blazing out my bedroom door, his footsteps banging down the stairs.
A heavy sigh heaved from my lungs, and I tossed the covers and went for the massive shower in my bathroom. I scratched at my chin as I shuffled in, trying to stave off the desire to faceplant back into bed.
I turned the water on hot and let steam fill the room as I twisted out of my underwear so I could step into the spray.
My eyes dropped closed at the warmth.
In an instant, her face flashed behind my lids.
Shit.
Seemed no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to walk the straight and narrow, I always ended up chasing trouble. Hunting it, like I didn’t know how to stop.
Because there I was—struck with it—an errant bolt of lust that didn’t belong.
Eden Murphy.
That feisty little kitten who’d wanted to claw my eyes out last night.
Except she was the key to an entirely different type of trouble than I normally sought, and I was just fool enough to want to turn the lock.
No doubt, that was why I hadn’t kicked her to the curb. Why I couldn’t get her off my mind for a second last night or the fact she’d shown up in my brain first thing this morning, too.
I’d fucking eaten up the way she blushed and fumbled and lifted that chin. The way she came off so innocent but was clearly a fighter underneath.
My dick jumped, hard at the thought of her sitting there all prim in my office, nothing but her thundering heart and fumbling hands and tempting sweetness.
Way she’d gone straight fire in the kitchen before she’d softened like silk. Way her breath had skittered across my face and her honeyed scent had invaded my senses.
I’d bet that’s exactly what the girl would feel like—silk.
Like dipping my fingers into sweet honey.
My tongue lapping up the pure.
And I knew better than that.
Before I let the girl get me off track, I quickly washed, rinsed, and was out in less than five. I dried and tugged on some jeans, still rubbing the towel over my hair as I bounded downstairs.