“Come on, sweet girl. It’s way past your bedtime,” I whisper softly against Kyrie’s forehead as we sway in front of the picture window in her room overlooking the massive lake behind the house. Rain has started falling in thenearly iridescent sky. “It’s so beautiful,” I whisper as I stare into the night.
“It really is,” comes from behind me, and my head spins as I turn to find Jamie leaning against the open door.
Speaking of beautiful . . .
“How long have you lived here, Murphy?” I ask in a serene voice for Kyrie’s sake, even though I feel anything but serene looking at him. How can something as simple as black sweatpants and a tight white T-shirt look that good? Oh, right. Because everything looks good on this man. On those hips and those thighs and that chest. Damn. That night has played on repeat in my mind for two long months.
Two months, two weeks, and three days, if I’m counting.
But really . . . who’s counting?
Absolutely not me.
“I bought the land when I signed my first contract right out of college. I guess that was almost eight years ago. But I didn’t build this house until about three years ago.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, popping his triceps, and yup, I’m pretty sure I licked those muscles two months, two weeks, and three days ago. And my mouth is still watering at the sight.
He moves gracefully across the room in that way only a man who has honed his body to within an inch of perfection can do and slides in behind me, pointing toward the lake. “I knew I wanted to build here the minute I saw this view.”
“And what, you decided to go big or go home?” I tease because this house is practically a fortress. “You know what they say about men with big houses, don’t you, Jamie?”
“That they like their privacy and security? Or maybe that they had enough people prying into their lives at a young age that they wanted to be as far away from the rest of the world when they’re home to not even have to think about them or see them if they don’t want to?” He drags his eyes over Kyrie, who, I swearto God, fell asleep from the sound of his stupid voice. How is that fair? “Or maybe...”—his voice drops deeper—“maybe they say men with big houses are overcompensating for other things, but come on now, Ace.” He reaches up slowly and tucks my hair behind my ear, and my breath catches in my damn throat. “We both know I’m not lacking, now don’t we?”
“You really do always have to be an asshole, don’t you?” I ask, furious at the breathless way my voice comes out.
“What do you want, Jamie?” I dip my face down against the side of Kyrie’s head and hide the ridiculous reaction I’m having to this man. It makes no sense. I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. So how in the world can I be attracted to him?
“CPS was here today.” It’s not a question.
“I’m aware. I was here,” I snap awkwardly and turn my back to him as I place Kyrie in her crib before it dawns on me. I’ve been here for two months, two weeks, and three days. Shit. “If I’ve worn out my welcome, I can look for another place. Lexie told me about an apartment?—”
“Ashton—” he grunts, but I refuse to turn around.
I do not cry. I haven’t in years. I refuse to start now. Even if I want to.
I got comfortable.
Too comfortable.
“No. I should have seen this coming. I’m sor?—”
“Christ woman.” He closes the small distance between us and rests his hands on my shoulders, sending goosebumps dancing down my spine. “Are you ever not on the defensive? Do you really think that’s what I want?”
I will not cry today... It’s like a mantra at this point for how often I repeat it.
One I tell myself on a near daily basis.
So far, so good.
“I don’t know what you want,” I admit. “Hell, I don’t even know whatIwant anymore.” I stare at Kyrie lying in the crib, her angelic face turned to the side. Tiny hands and feet tucked underneath her small body and her pink and white ruffled bum high in the air. This baby I didn’t even know existed two months, two weeks, and four days ago.
This one who changed my world with a single heartbeat.
This sweet girl I’m scared to death Child Protective Services is going to try to take from me if they ever realize what a mess I really am. “I just know she deserves more than I can give her. More than our mother. More than me. But I’m doing my best, even if that’s never going to be good enough.”
Jamie wraps an arm around my chest and presses his to my back as he anchors me to him, his face pressing to the side of my head as we both just stand there... and breathe. “You’re enough, Ashton. You always have been. I see it. Finn and Ryker see it. Kyrie sees it. And one day, you’re going to see it too.”
“Jamie . . .” I exhale unsteadily.
“None of us want you to leave.”
