Page 50 of Talk Wicked to Me

Evie: Good. From what you’ve said, she doesn’t seem the type to ask for help. But be careful. She might need space after last night.

Evie: Let me know if we’re rescheduling appts again.

Baz: Will do.

How did he get lucky enough to have a friend like Evie? And why was his next thought about wanting her and Emerson to become friends, too?

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, he stood on Emerson’s front porch listening as she unlocked the door, each sound ratcheting up his anticipation.

The door opened, and his fucking heart nearly stopped. Emerson stood before him, adorably sexy in cute cotton shorts and the T-shirt he’d forgotten he’d left in her washer. Her golden-brown hair was loose and tousled. A few strands hung in front of one eye, and she had a piece of something stuck in the shiny waves.

“Hi,” she said in a hushed voice as Ollie pushed past her, tail wagging. “What are you doing here?”

He kept his eyes on her as he loved up Ollie. “I was in the area making sure there weren’t any pregnant women giving birth on the side of the road and thought I’d stop by.”

She laughed softly, and her gaze moved over his chest. “I’m glad I got to see you in your cut. You look like a badass biker instead of an edgy vet, but I thought you were going out with the guys after church.”

If she knew that her knowledge of biker culture was as attractive to him as his dimples were to her, she might be more careful about using it. “Turns out I’d rather be here.”

She bit her lower lip, cheeks pinking up. “I was just going to watch Schitt’s Creek and probably fall asleep after one or two episodes.”

“Sounds perfect. Then I’ll carry you to bed and be on my way, knowing you and Brennan are safe and sound.”

“I’m too heavy for you to carry.”

“I’ve carried dogs that weigh more than you.” He looked down at Ollie as he petted him. “She’s a tough one, huh, boy?” Lifting his gaze, he remembered what Evie had said about Emerson needing space. Damn it to hell. He’d be a dick if he didn’t honor that. “Do you really want me to leave? Because if you do—”

“No, but—”

“Then this is the part where you invite me in.” He wasn’t about to give her a chance to change her mind.

She pressed her lips together, the edges curving up. “I don’t want you to leave, but I feel guilty that you’re spending so much time here. Madigan said she and Tobias and Evie were meeting you and the other guys at the Salty Hog. Are you sure you want to waste your night sitting around here?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

Her blush deepened, but she opened the door wider, waving him in. “You are a glutton for punishment.”

He stepped inside, standing so close he could smell her shampoo. When her eyes flicked up to his with a spark of attraction, he didn’t even try to keep the innuendo out of his voice. “I’m a glutton for something all right.”

Her eyes widened just a fraction, and her lips twitched like she was working hard to fight a smile.

So fucking sexy.

There was probably something wrong with that thought since she’d just had a baby, but there it was, glaring in his mind like a beacon. In an effort to break the spell she seemed to continuously cast over him, he plucked the thing he’d seen in her hair and assessed it. “Is this a piece of a cookie?”

“Ohmygod.” She snagged it from his fingers and headed into the living room, where she put it on a plate that held a partially eaten cookie. “You try eating with a baby in your arms.”

“There’s no shame in saving food for later.”

She rolled her eyes.

He was glad to see a half-empty glass of milk next to the plate. His heart swelled at the sight of Brennan sleeping in the bassinet beside the couch, sucking on his pacifier, his little elbows bent, tiny fingers curled into fists on either side of his head. Baz crouched beside him, whispering, “Hey, little man. I missed your adorable little mug today. I might’ve missed your mama, too, but we won’t tell her that.” He kissed Brennan’s head, and as he pushed to his feet, he caught Emerson staring at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. Christ, that was a good look on her.

She tore her gaze away, mumbling something about her freaking hormones, and snagged the remote. “If you’re staying, put those dimples away.”

“Done.” He schooled his expression and picked up a paperback from the coffee table that had a cowboy on the cover. Hot for Love. “You into cowboys, Lockhart?”

“That’s the book Mads gave me for the book club. I told you she really wants me to go to the meeting.”