I let myself into Fyfe’s house this morning, expecting him to be feeding Millie all the while trying to get ready for work, as per usual.
Instead, the house was eerily quiet and I realized why when I rounded Fyfe’s large living room sofa to find him on it with Millie, looking like an ad to seduce women into getting pregnant!
Fyfe wore only his pajama trousers and his glasses. His thick hair was tousled and his head lolled back on the sofa as he slept. He didn’t snore, though Millie did, gently, her cheek smooshed to his chest. His naked, sculpted man chest.
I was instantly aroused in every way a woman could be aroused. Physically, emotionally, mentally.
How fucking dare he?
Even in my indignation, I had the presence of mind to pull out my phone to take a photo of hot father and sweet child. “Hullo, new phone wallpaper,” I muttered, tapping my screen todo just that. I slipped the phone into my back pocket just as Fyfe blinked sleepily behind his sexy black-framed glasses. I found myself drowning in his warm, dark eyes. “Eils?”
“What happened?” I whispered, my words a wee bit more clipped than usual. He’d totally thrown me with this. It wasn’t just that he was hot and I was attracted to him. Fyfe was reminding me that he was a good man. A great father who’d shown in just a few short weeks that he’d fallen in love with his daughter.
I didn’t think my heart was ready for that reminder.
He groaned, holding tight to Millie as he sat up. She made grumbly noises but didn’t wake. “What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock.”
“Oh, bloody hell. I’m late.”
“Let me take her.”
He nodded and gently eased her off his chest and into my arms. Millie stirred with the transfer but didn’t fully awaken. That wasn’t like her. Worried, I pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was a little warm.
“She has an ear infection.” Fyfe scrubbed his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Took her to Thurso earlier this morning. They said it’ll clear up on its own, but if it doesn’t by day three, to bring her back to the docs.”
“My poor Millie Billie,” I whispered, kissing her again before I gently set her in her cot. She remained deep in sleep. By the looks of things, neither she nor her father had much rest last night.
I turned to Fyfe and whatever I was about to say tumbled right off my tongue.
He stood, stretching, and I attempted not to drool. The tartan pajama trousers he wore had slipped low so I could see the fantastic V-cut of his hips. My gaze devoured every inch of naked skin on display. The taut six-pack, the sculpted chest, the broadshoulders, and just thick enough biceps. He was ludicrously physically perfect.
A throat cleared.
My eyes flew to his.
And then there were his glasses. He’d been wearing them more often lately. Taunting me with that whole hot, genius lost boy vibe I’d fallen for as a teen.
Fyfe wore a far too sexy smirk. “Are you done ogling me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You did this deliberately.”
“What?”
I waved at his half-naked gloriousness. “That! The no shirt, glasses on, cute baby sprawled on your man chest.”
Fyfe let out a low chuckle. “It wasn’t deliberate. But I like how flustered you are right now.”
“I’m not flustered.”
He cocked his head in contemplation, a certain heat entering his eyes. “Are you turned on?”
Yes! So, so turned on! “Pfft! We’re not talking about that stuff in front of Millie.”
Fyfe swaggered over to me and I stumbled back against the cot. To my surprise, he cupped my face in his hands and bent his head to mine. I thought he was going to kiss me. But his lips hovered just above mine as he searched my eyes. “Eilidh Adair, if I wasn’t so bloody tired right now, I’d throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs so we could do more than just talk about that stuff.”
My lower belly squeezed. Callie’s words from yesterday came back to me. “Maybe, when you’re not so tired, I’ll allow that.”
