Page 31 of Talk Wicked to Me

She wrinkled her nose. “I should probably just have a salad with grilled chicken to try to lose this baby weight.”

“Like hell you should. You look great, and now’s the time to spoil yourself, not deprive yourself.”

“I bet that charm gets lots of women in trouble.”

“Only the lucky ones. See you soon, Lockhart.”

BAZ WENT HOME to shower and returned with pizza, tacos, a salad with grilled chicken, and three flavors of ice cream. He’d expected Emerson to read him the riot act, but she’d just said, Why am I not surprised? He was glad the fight had gone out of her.

That was an hour ago. Now Brennan was asleep in the bassinet by the couch where they’d just finished eating. Emerson flopped back against the cushions and put her hand on her stomach, eyes at half-mast. “I’m stuffed. I still can’t believe you got everything I mentioned.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t.”

“I’ll know better next time.” She grabbed the remote. “Let’s watch something.”

He stacked their plates and pushed to his feet. “I’m going to clean this up. You should close your eyes and try to rest while B’s asleep.”

“I’m not tired.” She pushed to her feet. “I’ll help you.”

He put his hands on her waist, bringing her trusting eyes to his, causing the flare of warmth in his chest that he was starting to expect when she was around. He told himself to let her go, but his hands tightened on her waist, igniting a hum of electricity between them. Her eyes widened a fraction, and her lips parted, telling him she felt it, too. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss her, and man, he wanted to. But fuck, he knew he shouldn’t. That was not what this was, so he forced himself to let go.

“Sit your pretty little ass down and rest, Em. I’ve got this.”

She blinked several times, as if she was trying to get her brain to cooperate, too, and he knew the second it did, because her shoulders drew back, and a glint of mischief glowed in her eyes. “Shows how well you know me. I’ve never had a little ass, and you’re not my house boy. I’m going to help.”

“Emerson, stop being stubborn.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Wicked, who’s being stubborn?” She arched a brow, looking so damn cute he had to laugh, which made her laugh, too. She put her hand on her stomach. “I’m too full. Don’t make me laugh.”

“I can’t help it. You’re cute.”

She blushed, and that hint of innocence made him want to kiss her even more.

She motioned to her body. “If you think this is cute, you need glasses.”

“My eyes are just fine.”

Brennan started fussing.

“Sounds like someone else knows you need to rest, too.” He nodded to the couch. “Might as well get comfortable.” Glad for the distraction, he picked up the baby and grabbed a burp rag from the changing table. When he turned back to Emerson, her shirt was open, her beautiful breast partly exposed. Fuck. He’d been turned on by beautiful breasts hundreds of times, but this wasn’t just lust coiling inside him. This was a new and different, deeper attraction that went beyond beautiful and sensual body parts to the very heart of her. How could seeing the nurturing mother in her get him all twisted up inside?

“I’m ready,” she said with a sweet smile that he knew was meant solely for her baby as she reached for him.

Baz ground his back teeth, handing her Brennan and the burp rag. He averted his eyes, focusing on cleaning up and gathering the dishes to avoid thinking about the confusing emotions whipping through him.

After washing their dishes and putting away the leftovers, he brought a fresh glass of water into the living room for Emerson. She was still nursing Brennan. As he set the glass down for her, she said, “Baz, listen.” She bit her lower lip, looking down at Brennan and brushing her finger over his cheek.

He heard faint sounds of a cross between “Mm” and a whimper or swallow. He felt strangely honored to witness such an intimate moment between mother and child and wished she could be sharing it with her parents. “That might be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”

She met his gaze for a long, mesmerizing beat before saying, “Me too,” just above a whisper.

Brennan’s head tipped back, eyes closed, and her nipple popped out of his mouth, elongated and dark pink.

Christ. Baz turned around, scrubbing a hand down his face to try to rid himself of the thoughts that brought, which were not at all sweet. He heard her getting up and turned back, reaching for the baby. “I’ve got him.”

“It’s okay. He needs to be changed.”

“I don’t mind doing it.” He took Brennan, that newborn smell making his chest go tight.