He furrowed his brow, taking a step toward me.
Always one step forward one step back.
“I wasn’t worried,” he said. “I know how amazing you are with her.” He sighed like the words were physically draining. “I’m fully aware of the shit I’d be in if it wasn’t for you.”
“And Faith,” I said, shrugging.
“Right, but you and Hannah.” He smiled. “You have something. Like you operate on the same frequency.”
I grinned at that. “This,” I said. “Is true.” I reached for his hand, grabbing it before he could back away again, and dragged him up the stairs. “And since I know her so well,” I said as we reached the second story. “I’ll know exactly if her bedroom is big enough.”
He chuckled softly as I tugged him down a hallway. “Your ideas about big enough and mine differ.”
I halted outside a guest suite, craning my neck to flash him a smirk I usually saved for my friends. “Well, we’ve never quite figured that out, have we?” I stepped into the room, bee-lining it for the closet.
“Were we supposed to?” His voice was low and just gruff enough to send heat pooling in my core. I could feel him behind me, the warmth from his body, the smell of him filling the room. God, why did my body have to want his so badly? Was he feeling it too because it’d been so long for him as well? With Hannah with him nearly twenty-four-seven the last five weeks, he’d had to change his lifestyle almost immediately.
I reached for the closet handle. “Moment of truth,” I said, ignoring his question. I swung open the door. “Yes!” I squealed, clapping my hands together as I rushed inside the walk-in. “Now this is a proper closet!”
Connor followed me inside, slowly turning in a circle to survey the space. “She’s five,” he said, glancing down at me. “You know that right?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, stepping into his space, not backing down an inch despite how damn tall and lean the man was. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I…” he rose his arms, indicating the space big enough for a small sofa and all her clothes. “She…” he dropped his arms. “Never mind. You’re right.”
I grinned. “Did you just have a stroke?”
He laughed, and I was shocked at how free and easy the sound was. “Maybe.”
I stepped around him, unable to not brush my body across his as I headed for the door. I swore I heard him hiss.
“Let’s check out the master,” I called over my shoulder as I headed across the hall. “It’s the perfect distance to Hannah’s room,” I said, stepping into the massive suite. “And it has a killer view of the pool.” I peeked through the opened window and down, noting the glass enclosed pool below. It wasn’t hard to imagine his ripped body cutting through the water as quickly and gracefully as he shredded the ice.
“Nice,” he said, glancing over my head.
“Perfect yard for a dog, too,” I said before heading toward the bathroom. I eyed the marble tub and separate shower. “Hell yes,” I said, climbing into the tub and sinking down. “Now this is the life,” I said, closing my eyes. “I should’ve been a hockey player.”
Connor cleared his throat, and I popped my eyes open.
“Comfy?” He asked.
“See for yourself,” I said, gesturing for him to join me.
His brows climbed up his head.
“Oh come on,” I teased him. “We’re married, remember? This is part of the life.”
“Well,” he said, smiling. “In that case.” He climbed in, his massive body dominating the space so much he had to shift my legs over his as he faced me from the opposite side. I gasped at the warmth of his hands on my calves, my shorts hiking up ever so slightly. All it would take would be a few more tugs from him and I’d be straddling his lap. Feeling the strength of him beneath me as I rode...
God damn this was a bad idea.
Playing around was one thing.
Feeling his touch and craving more…that was dangerous territory.
And I needed to stay out of the danger zone for the next decade or so.
“She wasn’t lying,” Connor said, arching his head back against the tub. “This is definitely a perk. Maybe not as big as the pool, but a perk.”
“You and the need for a pool.”
“I like to swim laps to relax. How else do you think I keep this toned physique?”
“Yeah,” I said, hating how breathless I sounded. “And look.” I pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a linen closet. Perfect spot to hide your box of sex toys so Hannah doesn’t find them.”
He jolted, eyeing me.
“What?” I asked innocently. “You can’t just keep the box under your bed anymore,” I chided him. “You want to have to explain why Uncle Connor has handcuffs?”
He cringed, shaking his head. “Hell no. They’ll go on the top shelf.”
“Smart man.”
“Sometimes,” he said, and the weight in his tone hit me right in the chest.
“I’m only messing with you, Connor,” I said, playfully grabbing his knee. “You’re doing amazing. Seriously. Above and beyond for that girl. She thinks you hung the damn moon.”
He eyed my hand, and I snatched it back.
“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, a smirk on his lips.
“I…” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe. Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t.” He laughed.
I sighed, glancing around the room, my muscles relaxing almost as if the tub was filled with steaming hot water, bubbles, and Connor sans clothes.
Hot damn.
“You’re amazing with her, too, you know,” Connor said, his voice quiet somehow. “You’ve got insane mothering instincts.”
I snorted, and instantly covered my mouth with my hand, my eyes apologetic as he glared at me. “I’m sorry,” I said through my laughter. “Thank you for saying that but it’s not true.”
He furrowed his brow, quickly shifting from the softer Connor to the growley one. I couldn’t decide which one was sexier.
“I’m only good with Hannah because we’re the same,” I said. “And because I’m not with her full-time like a real mom would be. I’m actually terrible at nurturing,” I continued. “I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.”
“But you’re more than a babysitter with Hannah,” he argued.
“She tells me when she’s hungry,” I said, a lump in my throat at his declaration. “Or if she needs something.” I sighed. “Give me a real baby and I wouldn’t know what the hell to do.”
He chuckled. “What about a dog?” He asked, motioning toward the bedroom where I’d admired the huge backyard. “They’re kind of like practice babies.”
“Again, I’d ruin it.” I smiled. “I adore Rookie, Chloe and Bentley’s bulldog, but actually owning one?” I sighed again. “I’d find a way to lose it or starve it or something.”
“You severely underestimate yourself,” he said.
“We can’t all have a Sharks’ ego.” I shrugged. “I have always wanted a dog, though. Like Chloe’s but instead of white I’d want a gray-dapple english bulldog with blue eyes.” I smiled. “And I’d name her Prince Sparkle Snort and we’d grow old together and live happily ever after.”
A laugh ripped from Connor’s lips—so genuine and real that it sent warm chills soaring across my skin.
“Princess Sparkle Snort?”
“And?” I asked, unable to stop the smile on my face.
“You can’t name a bulldog that.”
“I can do whatever I want,” I said. “It’s my fake-dog.”
“Touche,” he said, and leaned his head back against the marble, reeling in his laughter. “I think this is the one,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Sweet,” I said, shifting to stand. “I would’ve hated having to pretend to be your wife at another one of these.” I offered him my hand like he needed it to stand.
He took it anyway and rose until he t
owered above me as we stood in the tub.
“I only asked you to help me pick a perfect place for Hannah. I never asked you to be my wife.”
I laughed. “Could you imagine?” I asked, shaking my head.
“We’d slaughter each other,” he said, his tone soft.
“Demolished.”
Why was my heart racing?