“Home sweet home,” he announces next to me.
“It’s yours?” I ask.
He chuckles. “That’s what the payment coupon and the deed say.”
Wow.
I hear him chuckle as he opens the door and gets out. He jogs around the front of the pickup and then opens the door for me, holding out his hand to help me. I know he’s just being a gentleman, but just like always when my fingers touch his, electricity zaps throughout my whole body.
A few moments later, I’m following behind him, carrying Ryan in my arms while he carries my bag. I’m glad I thought about packing extra diapers before we went to the park and a change of clothes for Ryan. I may have to rinse him off here because he’s clearly been playing at a park all day long.
Eli opens the front door, then stands to the side. I make my way in, walking straight into the living room. I’m surprised by the sight in front of me. There is a fawn-colored leather sectional sofa that is sleek and smooth. It isn’t overly puffy the way most leather sofas are. There are cream and gray pillows, along with a fuzzy cream throw blanket.
A woman decorated this, hands down. There is even framed artwork on the wall. There’s a coffee table with a bowl of roped balls. The entertainment center has little knickknacks perfectly placed for aesthetics, which just reaffirms that a woman did all of this.
Slowly, I turn around to face him. He gives me a smirk and then jerks his chin. “My roommate and his wife used to live here. I lived in the basement. She left all the house shit here when they moved into their own place.”
“Your roommate?” I ask
He hums as he sets my bag down. “One of my teammates. He and I bought the house together when we were single. He and Clara got married a couple of years ago. They moved out around the time we met, and now they have a little girl around Ryan’s age.”
That’s a lot of information at once. I don’t even know what to do with that. He’s not finished yet, either.
“I bought them out after they moved. So it’s mine now. I turned the basement into an at-home gym.”
A homeowner. I guess it makes sense since he is a professional hockey player. I mean, I didn’t look up his wages or anything, but I imagine it’s enough to be able to afford a house. I just assumed that he would have something a bit lower maintenance and a lot more swinging single bachelor.
My gaze scans the room as I take it all in again. I’m not sure what I expect to see the second time, but all I know is it’s clear a woman did this, and roommate’s wife or not; I can’t deny that I’m a little jealous—not that I have the right to be.
“Do you have a blanket that I can put him down on?” I ask, dipping my chin to Ryan in my arms. I know he’s going to wake up hungry soon, so there’s no reason to put him in bed. He can stretch out on a blanket, and I’ll be close by in case he’s scared of being in a new place.
Eli takes the throw from the sofa and tosses it onto the floor. “I don’t ever use this. I don’t really ever use this room unless the guys come over to hang out. I spend my time in the kitchen and the bedroom when I’m here.”
Sinking down to my knees, I gently place a very asleep Ryan on the floor before I stand up. I don’t look away from him. I can’t. I am mesmerized by my son. I’m completely obsessed with him, which, if I had to confess, is probably just another reason why I didn’t contact Eli sooner—at least subconsciously.
Then I feel a warm palm against the small of my back. My spine straightens, and goose bumps break out over my entire body. Then, before my body can recover and regulate back to its normal state, he leans down, and I feel his lips against my ear.
“What do you want for dinner?”
You.
I want you.
ELI
Wrenly sits across from me. I didn’t know what to make for dinner, especially since I’d never cooked for a kid before. I’ve seen Luke’s daughter eat, but I’ve never once paid attention to what she’s had. Thankfully, Wrenly gives me some ideas. I settle on my favorite meal, hoping that Ryan will like it, too, which is steak, potatoes, and green beans.
“And he can eat this?” I ask as I grill the steak.
Wrenly hums. “I just have to cut it into small bites. Do you have any fruit?”
Lifting my gaze from the steaks, I look over to her. “Blueberries. I put them in my smoothies sometimes.”
“Can Ryan have some?”
I almost laugh at her question. Instead of laughing, I give her a smile. “Baby, Ryan can have whatever the fuck he wants.”
I watch as her lips part, almost in awe, and then they curve up into a smile. “Okay,” she exhales, her gaze flicking down to her feet.
