“I figured Blake would be getting spoiled enough. It’s always the moms who get forgotten.” He pulls off his black baseball cap, runs a hand through his thick brown hair, and replaces it backward. “At least, that’s what they say on the forums.”
He blushes further, almost like he’s revealed too much.
“More lavender bath salts?” I ask, deciding not to double down on his embarrassment.
“Actually, yes.” He chuckles. “Plus something else … but you’ll have to open that one to find out.”
I narrow my eyes at him, tipping my head to the side, which causes my messy bun to fall lopsided. “You can be a real mystery, Mr. Richards.”
Of all the responses I anticipated, a wink was not on the list. Goose bumps break out over every inch of my body, and I wrap my arms around my middle, which is almost back to normal already.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” It’s small talk, and I hate it, but I’ll say anything if it shifts my focus away from the memory of his wink.
“Taking you and Blake out wherever you want to go,” he replies without a beat of hesitation.
I stare back at him, wondering where I zoned out and missed a part of the conversation. “Taking us out?”
He rises to his feet, gently rocking Blake’s bassinet. “Yeah. If you want to, that is. Scott said that you’ve been pretty much stuck inside, and the weather is a little warmer today.”
My eyes drift out of my bedroom window. Bright blue skies and the tiniest buds on the trees promise the first signs of spring.
“Don’t you have other stuff you need to do?”
“Like what?” he counters.
I bite down on my bottom lip. I’d love nothing more than to head to Prospect Park—one of my favorite places in Brooklyn. Still, I already feel like Emmett has gone way beyond helping me out.
“I don’t know. Gym time, practice, chilling out at?—”
“My afternoon is free,” he cuts me off, voice soft but sure.
I’m about to accept his offer and then shake my head at the final second. “It’s too much to ask. Besides, we couldn’t fit Blake’s stroller in your Aston Martin.”
“I’m in the G-Wagon.”
Emmett steps toward me and leans down until our faces are level. A waft of his woodsy cologne reaches me, and I subtly inhale it into my lungs. Mixed with eucalyptus, it’s the perfect post-shower scent.
“What other shit excuses have you got for me, Miss Quinn?”
I’d laugh if it wouldn’t risk waking Blake.
“I need to take a shower and get dressed,” I say.
His eyes drop down my body. Despite my wearing pink sleep shorts and a matching long-sleeved top, Emmett hasn’t looked below my neck once.
Well, not until this moment anyway.
He snaps his eyes back to mine, prominent jawline tightening a fraction. “I can wait.”
“You don’t have to.” I try again, more for the benefit of my growingguilt.
Emmett completely ignores my weak protest just as Blake begins to wake. “Where do you want to go?”
It’s my turn to flush. “Prospect Park.” I haven’t been there since I got back from Austin. “I think Blake would like to see the ducks.”
When my daughter releases a soft sob, I climb to my feet and lift her out of the bassinet, holding her against my chest.
She smells amazing—a baby scent Mom says to make the most of since it will fade as she grows older.
