My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“As I love her. Look at those red cheeks.” I just had to pinch one and she giggled, flailing her hands about in her bright yellow mittens. “Have you been playing in the snow with Uncle Auggie?”

“Not you too,” he muttered. “Lucky Charms can’t get enough of calling me that.”

“Well, he probably does it as payback.”

“And yes, we’ve been building a snowman out back. She hasn’t helped much. Kind of being a bum and lazing about, aren’t you, Rhi Rhi?”

She patted his chin with one of her snowy mittens and my heart just melted at the smile he aimed at her. He would make an excellent father someday.

To babies born from a woman who wasn’t me.

I frowned. Okay, awkward, unnecessary thought. Of course he would. We weren’t dating. And even if we were, sleeping together once wasn’t enough to consider a future. My needing to pee on a stick might’ve altered our relationship, but it hadn’t. So no harm, no foul.

Definitely no thinking about August’s latent parenting abilities.

“Rory bought her this big old-fashioned sled thing, so I’ve been pulling her around with me while I take care of stuff outside. You know that old wind-damaged sugar maple by the back fence? Think I’m going to have to cut it down and harvest the wood.” He rubbed his chin, sprinkling snow into the V-neck of the deep green sweater that offset his eyes. “Could build you another accessory armoire. Narrow and tall to fit your space.”

Now he was talking my language.

“How much?” Trying to pay the man was an exercise in futility, so we usually bartered stuff. “I can whip up those pillows for that loveseat of yours you’ve been squirreling away when you thought I didn’t notice.”

He arched a brow. “I don’t squirrel away. It’s an anniversary gift for Seth Hamilton’s wife. Apparently, they christened one similar early on in their courtship. At any rate, I don’t want it anywhere near the display windows for obvious reasons, and sometimes the shop gets better light than my studio. Much to my consternation.”

I wasn’t sure what I found hotter right then—a man who toted around in-progress loveseats as if they were Pez dispensers or one who used the word consternation in casual, breath-puffing conversation.

It was cold as balls out. I wanted to roll up my window, but that would’ve been rude even for me. So I blasted the heat and tried to keep my teeth from chattering.

“Well, what do you say? Trade some pillows for a maple armoire to fit in my space?” Unwisely, I stuck my hand out the window to shake.

Frostbite was a dangerous thing. That was the only reason I could find for such an impulsive, risky move with a man who most certainly wasn’t merely a business associate.

He didn’t shake. Instead, he drew my bare hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. “You’re cold. Such delicate skin, out here without protection.”

Why did that sound so lascivious in his low, seductive voice?

“My gloves are in my jacket.”

I should tug back my hand. Yet I didn’t move.

“Put them on.” He turned his head, making me stretch my arm out farther from the window as Rhiannon pushed at his face. I had to laugh despite how his command had affected me. Bossy August could piss me off—or turn me on.

“Let me go and I will.” I darted a glance toward the duplex just in case, and annoyance crossed August’s face.

“Fine, I’ll warm you up myself.” He kissed my fingertips and moved his broad thumb over th

e back of my hand in distracting circles.

Parts of me were warming up nicely, but not my hands.

“August, Ivy could—”

“We’re adults.” But he released me just the same.

The loss of his touch hit me harder than I expected as I tucked my hands under my lap. The scarf I’d decided to give Vee had fallen to the floor of the truck.

Along with my sense evidently, or I never would’ve agreed to pick up Ivy in the first place.

At least she was now rushing across the snow-encrusted front lawn, her bright red hair trailing behind her from beneath her knit cap.