“Ouch,” Jasper said, putting a hand over his heart. “Ice cold. But I’ll take what I can get.”
He shifted, the motion pulling his shirt taut across his chest.
My gaze slipped before I could stop it, tracing the lines of ink down his arms, and heat quickly curled low in my belly.
When I forced myself to look up again, he was watching me, wearing a smug grin.
Shit. Busted.
“Today is about you, Evie. You deserve a break. And I’m happy to hang nearby if it helps you feel more relaxed.” His tone was so sweet and sincere. For one dizzying second, I debated sitting next to him, letting him put his arm around Vincent and me. But just as quickly, I banished the idea. No way could I let my guard down like that. So I focused on burping Vincent, not caring when he drooled all over my robe.
We sat silently as I switched sides, soaking up as many baby snuggles as I could. But before long, Vincent turned away, finished with his meal.
Reluctantly, I handed him back to his dad. “I should go. Frankie might drown in the mud bath without me.”
“Have fun.” He cradled our little guy in those inked, muscular arms as the baby’s eyes grew heavy. “He’ll be out for a while.”
“I’ll see you back at the house.” With that, I turned sharply and headed back to my friends. I needed to exit this situation before I said something stupid. Because as I’d eyed him holding our son, a heavy realization had hit me. I had missed him too.
Chapter 17
Jasper
Awave of energy hit me as I headed to Evie’s from the station, eager to see her and my boy. My siblings, my cousin, and even the guys at the station, gave me a lot of shit about this arrangement, but I was happy, and the last thing I wanted was less time with my son.
Vincent might be asleep, but that just meant I had an excuse to hang with Evie.
It was hard not to think about her, especially during long shifts. Her body haunted me. Memories of our night together, while hazy from the maple whiskey shots, were burned into my brain. Her curves, her confidence, her passion.
She’d ruined me.
I couldn’t even look at other women. I had no desire to text any of my hookups or even flirt with tourists at the Drip Line. The thought of bringing her cold brew and seeing that sleepy smile got me up in the morning.
I wanted to talk to her, make her laugh and smile.
And more. There was no denying that. My hands ached to touch her. To tug on that thick hair until her neck was exposed. I wanted to run my teeth down her earlobe and feel her shiver in my arms.
For now, though, I’d settle for any time she was willing to give me.
I knocked softly, knowing Vincent should be asleep, and she answered quickly, her eyes tired but her lips tipped up in a small smile.
“I brought you a late birthday present,” I said. “Heads up.” Gently, I tossed it to her.
She caught it easily, her eyes widening. “You got this for me?”
“Yeah. I noticed you didn’t have a ball, and I know how much you like pink. You’ve got to teach Vincent to play someday. Show him your moves. He’s damn lucky to have such a badass mama.”
She looked down at her feet. “I have no moves anymore.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “Grab your shoes.”
She scrutinized me for a long moment, then flicked on the exterior lights. A few minutes later, she stepped out, wearing sneakers and a hoodie, and tossed the ball to me.
I dribbled up the driveway and shot. The ball bounced off the rim before falling through the net.
Lunging, I snagged it before it could bounce away. “Come on. Your turn.” I stepped in front of her and eased the baby monitor from around her neck, where it hung on a string, breathing in the scent of her.
“See.” I pointed at the screen, where Vincent was asleep in his crib, binkie in place.
