Be My Hero (Forbidden Men 3)

Aww. There I went, liking him even more. I touched his chin, loving the way his rough jaw scraped against my fingers. I wanted to touch the metal hoops in his lip next, but managed to restrain myself. "You were a daydreamer, weren't you?"

His voice was dry and still full of irritation as he grumbled, "If you knew how many fights I've gotten into over the years, you wouldn't think that."

"Bet I would. I've seen why you get into fights. It's frankly shocking I don't see a hero cape inked anywhere on here." I scrolled my fingertips up toward his

elbow. "I can only imagine how many other damsels in distress you've saved over the years."

"Ha ha," he muttered.

I grinned. "My daughter and I have our lives to thank you for, Patrick. I'm not just going to forget that."

He stared at me, and something thunked heavily into my stomach. My breasts tingled and I seriously don't think it was my milk coming in.

"Why do you call me Patrick so much?" he whispered.

"Because it's your name," I whispered back, not even daring to breathe. The glaze in his eyes told me he wanted to kiss me. And, oh hell, I wanted to kiss him back.

But he glanced away toward Skylar.

"Only social workers and teachers ever called me Patrick."

The moment was growing too deep. Remembering I was sitting on a married guy's lap, I refrained from pushing the issue. I didn't ask whether or not he liked me calling him that. Instead, I focused on another tattoo of a plant. "What about this one? What does this stand for?"

"My favorite foster mother. She liked to garden."

We went through the list, from his wrist to his shoulder, going over the meaning behind each tattoo. I sighed wistfully after he explained the one symbolizing the first car engine he rebuilt from the ground up. I liked knowing what mattered most to him.

"I'd like to get a tattoo someday," I said thoughtfully, knowing exactly what mattered most to me as I gazed at my daughter.

"You will." Pick traced his finger delicately along the bare patch of skin behind my left ear. "Right here. You're going to get my name."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a smile because I knew I shouldn't encourage his flirtatious attitude. "Always so sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He grinned. "Of course. I don't say shit I don't mean."

He sounded awfully serious about that. But I shook my head and finally let a smile seep out. Resting my head back on his shoulder, I continued to outline the pictures on his arm with my fingernail. "Your wife would probably kill me if she knew I was letting you hold me like this."

"Nah." He leaned in and buried his nose in my hair. As I listened to him inhale deeply, something tight and foreign wrapped around my stomach. "She's not like that."

Well, maybe she should be, because I wasn't feeling friendly companionship for him just now. Experiencing something so much deeper, I opened my mouth to argue. Accepting, non-jealous wife or not, this was still wrong. He belonged to someone else. I shouldn't let him keep coming to my rescue. It might not mean so much to him, but to me, it meant way more than I knew it should.

"In any case," I said, letting the issue drop so he wouldn't know just how much I was crushing on him. "I really appreciate you being here and talking me off my crying jag. You always know when to show up at just the right time to save me."

His arms tightened, and I knew he was thinking about what Alec had done.

I touched his face. "I'm serious, Patrick. Look at me."

He lifted his face, and I wanted to press my mouth to his so bad. "You did everything right that night. Now stop worrying about it."

Shaking his head, he gave me a small smile. "Right after you stop reading my mind, woman. It's too sexy."

I opened my mouth to tell him he found the strangest things sexy, but the nurse who'd made me cry returned. An irritated line deepened between her eyes before she focused on Pick's face. And just like that, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"Oh, my lands. I didn't think I'd ever get to see your gorgeous tush again, Mr. Pick."

Pick grinned at her. "Hey, Charlotte. Have you been taking good care of my two girls, here?"

She glanced at me, looking slightly guilty before turning back to him. "I had no idea they were yours, but of course we have. Now come here and give me some sugar."