Southern Playboy (North Carolina Highlands 4)

Rhett points his finger down and whispers, “You mean the best.”

By some miracle, Liam is asleep again. This time Rhett doesn’t have to untangle himself, and the two of us slide off the bed.

“I wish we could leave him here, but he could fall off the bed,” I whisper. “I’ll take him up to his crib. You go back to sleep.”

Rhett shakes his head. “He’s heavy. I’ll carry him up.”

Liam stirs when Rhett picks him up, moaning. We freeze; Liam blinks, then lays his head on Rhett’s shoulder; he goes limp, and I let out a silent sigh of relief as Rhett adjusts his son’s body against his own. His massive forearm is looped under Liam’s butt, making the sinews and veins there stand out against ropes of hard muscle.

Rhett’s eyes still laugh, but his expression is serious. These two look so sweet together: tired daddy, sleeping baby. It’s a thing for a reason, Chris Hemsworth cradling kids in his Thor-worthy arms.

There’s a twist in my center, urgent, a little painful. I look away. Cross my arms. As much as I’d like it to be, this is not my moment. For a second, I wonder if this feeling isn’t longing but jealousy. All I ever wanted was a family of my own, and I thought I’d be well on my way to having one by this point in my life.

But thanks to some bad luck and worse decisions, I’m further from that dream than ever.

Yet here’s Rhett, being handed a family when he didn’t even want one. Here he is in his beautiful house, cradling his beautiful son, worrying about being too tired for his workout tomorrow.

Yeah, that’s definitely a flare of ire inside my gut. I get that the timing of Liam’s arrival isn’t ideal and that Rhett was totally taken off guard. But at least I have the balls to own my mistakes. In many ways, Rhett’s still fighting his.

I shove the idea from my head and follow Rhett upstairs. Now is the time for grace, not judgment.

Now is the time to stop being angry that things fell apart and roll up my sleeves. This little boy needs us to keep calm and carry on, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Only problem? I can’t stop staring at Rhett’s ass as he climbs the stairs. He has a true athlete’s butt. Big. Slightly bulbous. Deliciously firm yet fleshy, like a peach that isn’t quite ripe yet. I’ve watched enough porn to know what a butt like that looks like when its owner is thrusting. The way each cheek tightens on the forward motion, the muscles hollowing out on the sides. Hardening.

Imagining the feel of being fucked by an adult Rhett, a guy who’s broader and stronger and more experienced, I don’t realize I’ve reached the top step until I miss it completely.

“Oh!” I gasp. At the last minute, I manage to grab onto the banister before I face-plant onto the carpet at the top of the steps. My stomach somersaults at the almost disaster, heart elbowing against my rib cage.

Rhett whips around, eyes wide. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” My face burns as I straighten. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

But fantasizing about fucking your boss is definitely not okay.

In my case, it’s downright dangerous.

Chapter Thirteen

Rhett

It’s five o’clock, and I’m dragging ass after the longest day ever.

Workout: sucked.

Calls, meetings, emails: sucked so hard I wanted to die.

Massage: sucked worst of all, thanks to a knot in my neck/shoulder area that just won’t quit.

I half limp, half tiptoe into my kitchen, praying Amelia and Liam are . . . well, anywhere else. I need a minute to catch my breath.

I need a beer, stat. And then I need to go to bed for about a week. Except I have a kid who doesn’t sleep, so I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that. Thought’s crossed my mind to ask Amelia to stay overnight, at least until Liam is on some kind of manageable sleep schedule. But she’s with Liam all day, and the girl needs a break so she can come back tomorrow morning rested and recharged.

And yeah, let’s be real. Amelia and I are doing a decent job keeping things professional so far. But having her in my house all night, every night, knowing she’s right upstairs, probably wearing very few items of clothing, gives me ideas that are not at all appropriate for a boss/employee situation. What if we run into each other? What if there’s an emergency and I have to, like, go save her or whatever, and she sleeps naked now—I didn’t see any panty lines in those yoga pants she wore over last night—and all of a sudden, she’s pressed up against me without so much as a sock on, burying her head in my chest as I whisk her and Liam to safety?