Page 78 of Ultimate Justice

He swallowed, grateful for Noah’s presence. The boy was a virtual buffer, the only thing keeping his hard-on in check and stopping him from charging over, unzipping the dress, and carrying Marlie straight into his bedroom.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are.”

Blue joined in with one last high-pitched howl. From the kitchen, Marlie clapped.

“Now can you teach me how to play a real song?” Noah asked.

“Those were real songs.” For the last hour, he’d taught him how to play “Happy Birthday,” the “Itsy Bitsy Spider,” “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” and “Chopsticks,” the same beginner songs Gracie had taught him.

Noah scrunched up his face. “Those songs are for little kids. Can’t we play some Metallica or AC/DC?”

Evan laughed, then nearly choked. Those off-the-shoulder sleeves had slipped even more off Marlie’s shoulders, revealing inches and inches of smooth creamy skin he wanted to run his tongue over before—

So much for containing his now-raging hard-on.

Selfishly, he wanted her like he’d never wanted any woman, but she needed someone to settle down with. Like that ape-man dancing with her at the wedding.

He fisted his hands on the keyboard, imagining hurling the guy across the room and permanently embedding him in the sheetrock. Somewhere, somehow, his feelings for Marlie had zoomed way past lust and way past respect and caring. If things were different…if he were different, he might actually be thinking…

Ah, hell. That wasn’t a place he could afford to go.

He unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolling them to his elbows. Noah did the same. He really would miss the kid after he and Marlie moved back to her place.

Her place. His guts twisted at the thought of them not being here in the mornings when he woke up or in the evenings when he came home, but that was the thing. His mornings began before the sun peeked over the horizon, and his nights usually ended long after the moon had risen high in the sky. It was a vicious cycle, one that would never stop.

“Check this out.” Evan dragged his thumb across the keys, hitting all the notes, then flipping over his hand and doing the same in the opposite direction. “It’s called a glissando.” Gracie had taught him that word and practiced with him until he could do it perfectly.

“Cool!” Noah ran his hand over the keys, trying to mimic the move.

“Use your thumb, instead of your fingers.” He stuck his thumb out and showed Noah how to do it again.

“Okay.” He gave it another try with better results.

Blue snorted, racing for the front door. A second later, the doorbell rang.

“Keep practicing.” He patted Noah’s shoulder, then went to the door where Blue wagged his tail so hard his entire body shook. Brett and Gemma stood on the porch. They’d changed out of their wedding clothes into jeans and sweaters.

Evan opened the door. “To what do I owe the honor of the soon-to-be-married couple’s presence?” Brett and Gemma getting hitched he’d seen coming. Deck being a father? No way. He still had a hard time imagining a mini-Deck in the world. “Come on in. Did Deck and Tori get off okay?”

His friends were staying at the Ritz-Carlton in Denver overnight, then flying out in a few days to Hawaii for a two-week honeymoon.

“Yepper.” Gemma grinned. “By now, they should be canoodling in a luxury suite with the best view of the city.”

Half decent glissandos drifted into the foyer. Marlie came up behind him, and for a split second, he imagined this was how it would be if they were a couple, greeting guests at the door.

“Hi, Brett,” she said. “Hi, Gemma.”

“Hey, Marlie.” When Brett’s eyes dipped a fraction, Evan knew exactly what his friend was eyeballing.

That fricking dress.

Brett had the decency to look chagrined and cleared his throat. “We came to take Noah out for miniature golf and pizza.”

“We should be gone for at least a couple of hours.” Gemma winked and grinned slyly.

Marlie’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?” Her mouth fell open. “Oh.”

“Oh?” He looked back and forth between the two women, then to Brett, who shot him a look that could mean only one thing.