Breaking away, he brushes a strand of wayward hair behind my ear, blue eyes studying my face. “God, you’re beautiful, Celeste.”
I huff a breath. “Back at you, sweet man.”
He slides a hand behind my neck, guiding my head down, pulling my forehead to his. “I don’t usually do this type of thing. I can’t let Maise get attached if?—”
“I know. I mean, I understand . . .”
I pull away, forcing a smile. Does he regret what we just did?
I don’t. Not at all.
He growls. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t want to make things hard.”
“Bit late for that,” he says, glancing down.
I huff a laugh. “You know what I mean.”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I do.”
“What about Maise?”
“She’s asleep. We have”—he glances at the clock over the mantle—“at least two more hours.”
“Hmmm, how shall we spend the—” A yawn drowns out the words.
He chuckles. “Asleep. I think we should spend them sleeping.”
Crashing down from the high, I’m exhausted. Quin rises, taking me with him. I’m on wobbly footing a beat later as he helps me into my pajamas. He slips his boxers on before sweeping me into his arms like I weigh nothing.
Padding up the stairs, he presses kisses into my hair as I rest my head against his chest, trying and failing to stifle another yawn. He turns for Maisey’s room.
“Other way, Quinnie.”
“Hey? You two huddled up in my bed?”
I nod, the yawn slipping past my defenses.
“If I’d known you were in my bed, I would have been over here much sooner,” he whispers.
I can’t fight the thrill of excitement his words have traveling over my skin and through my body. But it fades when another yawn hits.
“Baby, I’m sorry I kept you up.”
My eyes fall shut without my permission, my head lolling. “I’m not...” The words are barely words. The second they’re out, Quin’s warmth disappears, only to be replaced by the softness of his bed.
He tucks me in the way he does Maisey. Snug as a bug in a rug.
I try to laugh, but it’s more like a dying moose noise as I roll over and snuggle down. Footsteps pad around the bed. I can barely crack one eye open, but it’s enough to see him lean down to his daughter and plant a kiss into her hair. “Love you, kiddo.”
She mumbles, rolling away from him, but he re-tucks her in.
My heart’s a puddle inside my rib cage.
He’s back on my side before I can process the sweetness that is this rugged, flannel-clad, burly man. Another kiss drops to my cheek. “See you in the morning, baby,” he rasps.
Maisey rolls over with a whine. “I’m not a baby, Daddy,” she mumbles.
