CEO Daddy (Crescent Cove 6.50)

Asher frowned and grabbed my hands again, bringing them to his mouth to blow lightly on them. The heat from his breath tingled over my skin. “None in your car?” When I shook my head, he frowned again. “You should have a kit in case of breakdowns. Spare gloves, jumper cables, tire iron, donut, an extra coat, a spare—”

“Asher, I can’t use those things, minus the coat and gloves. So, why have them?”

“I’ll teach you. Do you have AAA?”

I was afraid to tell him and cause him to stroke out. “Hey, Lily,” I called, not expecting the baby to look up guiltily. She’d been shoving snow into her mouth. “You’re going to spoil your dinner if you keep eating that.”

She kept right on gnawing on her snowy hand.

“You already have Mom Eyes.” Asher sounded impressed. “Didn’t even have to look her way to know what she was doing.”

Little did he know.

I got to my feet with his help, and we went to join Lily. Well, I did. Asher went in the house and returned with two pairs of men’s size gloves, one set for each of us.

We played in the snow with Lily until my nose was frozen and running and the promised chill had sunk deeply into my bones.

Asher wasn’t much better. He’d sneezed about half a dozen times, which shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. Even Lily had had enough.

Bright side? As soon as we brought her in and gave her a bottle, she was ready for bed. I’d barely finished the lullaby I was singing to her before she conked out.

I rose from the rocking chair in the nursery and carefully placed her in her crib. Asher checked to make sure the baby monitor was working, then drew me out of the room.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat.” I couldn’t hold back a shiver.

Preferably while huddling under a dozen thick blankets.

“I’ll fix us something.”

At my dubious expression, he laughed. “You didn’t look in the freezer. I have stuff I can heat up. Made by my grandmother.”

“Oh. Okay. Whew. I thought you were going to cook.”

“And you assume I can’t?”

“It’s the usual way with most bachelors. Are you going to prove me wrong?”

Sheepishly, he scratched the side of his neck. “Alas, no.”

“Thought so.”

“While I’m heating up dinner, you should take a hot bath. Warm up. I’ll start a fire.”

“In the living room?” He’d indicated in passing earlier that the place had a few of them.

“I could,” he said carefully. “But there’s also one in the master bedroom. We could eat in there.”

“On the floor?”

“Or in bed.”

When I didn’t answer, he stepped back. Both figuratively and literally.

“There’s a room made up for you too. You can just go to bed on your own if you prefer. It’s not fancy,” he added as if he figured I expected to sleep on 1000-thread count sheets. “I assumed you’d want to have a hand in designing it, so I just made sure it had the basics.”

“All I need is a bed.” I pushed a hand through my hair, afraid to imagine how it must look after our time outside. Oddly, I didn’t much care.