Chapter Sixteen
BAZ HAD NEVER considered himself a jealous man, but what Emerson had said about Quinton had unleashed some sort of possessive beast in him. The thought of her dating any other man made him want to tear someone’s head off. As he followed her up the stairs to the second-story bar at the Salty Hog, carrying Brennan, who was asleep in his carrier, Baz wanted them to be his .
No. In his mind, they already were.
He couldn’t even pretend he didn’t know when it had happened. Every evening they’d spent together, every laugh they’d shared and tear she’d shed, every moment he’d cared for Emerson when she was feverish and in pain from mastitis, and every night she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and he’d carried her to bed had stolen a piece of his heart. And Brennan? The second Baz had held him, that precious boy had burrowed deep in his heart, snagging more of it every time Baz changed his diaper, paced the floor with him, rocked him, fed him a bottle, and fell asleep on the couch with the innocent little guy on his chest.
His heart was overflowing with the two of them, but he wasn’t sure it would be fair to start something with Emerson when he was going away for so long. That was only one of the reasons he’d been careful to keep his feelings to himself. The other was more precarious. There was a chance she didn’t feel the same way about him. He didn’t think that was the case, considering she lit up when she saw him and returned his innuendos in person and over text. Then there was the way he’d caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, with a mix of tender adoration and ravenous lioness. But he’d been wrong before, and he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again and lose them altogether.
When they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, Emerson gazed out at the harbor. “This view is gorgeous.”
So is the one from back here. “Wait until you see it at night with the lights around the harbor.” As he said it, he wanted to be the one to bring her there so he could experience her first time with her.
He pulled open the door and followed her into the rustic bar, which was more of a pub during the day, with a full lunch menu. He scanned the room, recognizing a few familiar faces among the customers and temporary summer staff. He spotted his mother behind the bar and his father standing by a booth talking with a young couple seated there. He noticed a few women checking him out, and while he might’ve eaten up their attention weeks ago, he no longer had any interest beyond Emerson and Brennan.
“There’s your mom,” Emerson said, waving to his mother, who was grinning from ear to ear.
He put his hand on Emerson’s back, keeping Brennan close as they made their way to the bar, and gritted his teeth against the jealousy clawing at him as guys ogled Emerson. She was so damn beautiful, he’d bet she got that everywhere she went.
His mother said something to the other bartender, and she came around to greet them. Her strawberry-blond waves hung long and loose over the shoulders of her forest-green tank top.
“Hi, Mom.” Baz leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, honey. I’m glad you guys made it.” She beamed at Emerson and drew her into a warm embrace. “How’s our girl? You look beautiful.”
Hearing his mother call her our girl tweaked something inside him that felt fucking fantastic.
“Thank you,” Emerson said. “This is one of the shirts you gave me. I love it.”
“It fits perfectly.” His mother smiled down at Brennan, still fast asleep, and sighed. “Look at him with his binky. I know I just saw him two days ago, but I swear he gets cuter by the minute.”
“I have to agree with that,” Baz said as his father walked up behind them and draped his arms over Baz’s and Emerson’s shoulders.
“What are we agreeing with?” his father asked. “That Granny Gingy is totally smitten with Brennan, or that Poppy Con is going to be his favorite?”
Fuck if that didn’t make Baz feel some sort of misplaced pride. “Em, this is my old man, Conroy.”
His father stepped back and opened his arms.
“As if I couldn’t tell?” she said, welcoming his embrace.
“Was it the dimples?” his father asked.
“The dimples, the surfer hair, the fact that you both ooze charm like other men sweat.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“What’s that look for, Lockhart?” Baz asked.
“I was just thinking. I have a client who writes romance for women over forty, and she has the hardest time finding cover models. I bet she’d love to put your dad on a cover.”
“Good Lord, honey, don’t tell Con that,” Ginger pleaded. “He’s already got a big enough head.”
His father laughed. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You’re the only woman I want to take my clothes off for.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“I didn’t mean that kind of cover,” Emerson said, pink cheeked. “I meant a close-up of your face. Not that you don’t have a good body. I mean, I’m not looking at your body like that. Oh God. I’m going to shut up now.” She covered her face with her hand, and they all laughed.
Baz loved how much more relaxed she was than when she’d first met some of his family. “First you check out Quinton, now my dad. I can see I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”
She rolled her eyes as he draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side. He’d done the same thing many times before, and just like those times, it made him want to be even closer. But also just like those times, he wasn’t about to let her go.
His father glanced curiously at them.
Baz knew that look in his father’s eyes and prayed he wouldn’t make a smart-ass comment. While he’d admitted in recent weeks to his brothers and cousins that he couldn’t stop thinking about Emerson, he’d made it clear to them, as he had to the rest of his family, that he and Emerson were only friends. He’d demanded they refrain from making innuendos or comments indicating otherwise that might make her uncomfortable.
His father reached for the baby carrier. “You mind?”
“Depends.” Baz eyed him, tightening his grip on the carrier. “Where are you taking him?”
His father turned to Emerson, amused. “Listen to this guy. As if I didn’t raise four kids.”
A flash of sadness washed over Emerson’s face, and Baz knew she was thinking of Ashley, just like he was. But his father didn’t miss a beat.
“You have talked nonstop about Emerson and Brennan for weeks,” his father said. “I just wanted to get a better look at him.”
“Why don’t you do that outside?” his mother suggested, and glanced at Emerson. “I know you’re careful about bringing Brennan around too many people, so I saved you a table overlooking the water. I figured the fresh air might ease your mind.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Oh. I almost forgot.” Emerson pulled a large cookie tin out of the baby bag and handed it to her. “I made you more of the chocolate-hazelnut cookies you liked so much, and I made iced dark-chocolate stars for Conroy.”
“You’re spoiling us,” his mother said.
“And we love it,” his father said. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“It’s the least I can do. Your family has been spoiling me for weeks,” Emerson said. “I tried two new recipes and put a few of each in there, too. I’d love to get your take on them. The iced flower cookies with colored sugar on top are called orange blooms, and the hearts are cookies and cream. They’re Baz’s favorite.”
Baz cocked a grin, holding her gaze. “I love them all, but I do have a thing for your cookies and cream.” He hadn’t meant to make it sound so much like an innuendo, even if he felt it, but fuck . He loved the glimmer of shock and heat in her eyes.
“I’m sure we’ll love them all,” his mother said. “Emerson, have you given any more thought to the idea I mentioned?”
“A little, but I don’t know. It seems out of reach,” she said.
Baz wondered what idea they were talking about.
“We’ll talk.” His mother patted Emerson’s arm. “I’d better get back to work. Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“And don’t you leave without a kiss, woman.” His father tugged her into a quick, hard kiss. “Love you, baby.”
“Love you, too,” his mother said, and headed back to the bar.
“Uncle Baz!” Rosie’s chirpy voice caught him off guard. She was running toward him with a mile-wide grin, wearing a yellow bathing suit and purple shorts, her puffy pigtails bouncing above her shoulders. Junie was on her heels in a matching swimsuit and shorts, red ringlets framing her adorable face, with Leah, holding Leo, and Tank, following behind them.
“I’ve got Brennan,” his father said, taking the baby carrier seconds before Rosie launched herself into Baz’s arms.
“Uncle Baz! We went to the beach, and look what I got!” She dug into her pocket and pulled out two hermit crabs. “They’re helmet crabs!”
“ Her mit crabs,” Junie corrected her. “You were supposed to put them back in the water. Papa Tank! We have to go back to the beach. Rosie stole crabs.”
“I didn’t steal them,” Rosie insisted. “I giving them a new home.” She cradled them against her chest. “I love them.”
Emerson looked at Rosie and Junie as affectionately as Baz knew he was. Man, he loved these girls.
“Hey, pretty girl! Look!” Rosie thrust her hand with the crabs in it toward Emerson and opened her palm. “These my helmet crabs. Their names are Wiver and Juju. Our Wiver’s in heaven. This is a new Wiver.”
Emerson’s brows knitted. “Those are beautiful names.” She glanced compassionately at Leah and Tank.
“My brother, River, passed away last year,” Leah explained, and Tank pulled her against his side.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emerson said, sadness rising in her eyes.
“Thank you.” Leah smiled. “As you’ve just heard, he’s still with us in little ways.”
“Papa Tank.” Junie sighed heavily and looked up at him with an exasperated expression far too old for her young self. “We’re never gonna get them away from Rosie now.”
“It’s okay, Twitch.” Tank put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll take good care of them. Don’t you worry.”
“Gwampa Connie, where did you get that baby ?” Rosie asked. “Can he play with Leo?”
“That’s this pretty lady’s baby,” Baz said, putting a hand on Emerson’s back. “This is my friend Emerson. Emerson, meet Tank’s family. Leah, Junie, Rosie, and the little guy is Leo.”
“Hi,” Emerson said. “Rosie, my baby’s name is Brennan, and he’s a little too young to play with Leo, but maybe one day when he’s bigger they can play.”
“I like his name,” Junie said.
“Thank you,” Emerson said. “I like your curls.”
Junie beamed and leaned against Tank’s leg. “We gotta go now to get salt water so the hermit crabs don’t die. Right, Papa Tank?”
“Looks like it,” Tank said as he took her hand. “Lee, do you want to wait here?”
“And miss an adventure?” Leah smiled lovingly at him. “Not a chance. It was nice meeting you, Emerson.”
“I going!” Rosie wriggled out of Baz’s arms and grabbed Tank’s other hand.
Tank nodded once and headed for the door with his family.
“They have their hands full,” Emerson said. “I feel bad about River.”
“We all do,” his father said. “But they have us, and we’re lucky enough to call them family. Let’s go find your table.”
As they followed his father outside, Baz lowered his voice, asking, “What was that my mother said about an idea?”
“She thinks I should get a permit to sell my cookies.”
“That’s a great idea. Everyone loves them.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re good enough to sell,” she said quietly as they made their way past the other tables and guests.
“Trust me, they are. Are you interested in doing it?”
“I’m not sure. I have so much going on right now. It’s a lot to think about.”
“I’m glad you’re at least thinking about it.”
As his father put the baby carrier on their reserved table to get a better look at Brennan, Baz realized they’d rearranged the seating on the deck, giving them a table set apart from the others. He was glad his parents had thought to do it. He wanted Emerson to feel comfortable and was thankful for the privacy.
“Look at this little heartstopper,” his father said. “Other than his hair, he looks like you, Emerson.”
“Doesn’t he?” Baz said. “He’s a beautiful boy.”
“I remember when you were this age, Baz. They didn’t have the same baby rules back then. A week out of the hospital, you were going everywhere with us, and your dimples stopped people in their tracks.”
“They still do,” Emerson said.
“That’s just one of the Wicked curses my boys and I suffer through,” his father said. “But Baz is the only one who figured out the power of them at a young age. When he was about eight or nine, he realized that when he smiled, he could melt women’s hearts. You should’ve seen him at community events. He’d go right up to the ice cream stand with enough money to get a cone, and when it was his turn, he’d ask for extra this or that, flashing a grin, and he’d come away with a sundae every time.”
Emerson laughed. “I can see him doing that, and a heck of a lot worse as he got older.”
“We won’t go there,” his father said. “But if there’s one thing about Wickeds, when we find the one , we lock that door and throw away the key.” He put a hand on Baz’s shoulder but spoke to Emerson. “I’ll leave you two to enjoy your lunch. I’m glad I finally got to meet the cookie queen everyone’s talking about, and your little prince.”
“I don’t know who everyone is, but I’m glad they like my cookies, and I’m happy I got to finally meet you, too.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
As his father headed inside, Baz moved the baby carrier off the table and pulled out a chair for Emerson, happy to have her all to himself again. He sat in the chair closest to her instead of across the table and placed Brennan’s carrier between them to keep himself from reaching for her.
“YOU WERE RIGHT about your dad. He’s a lot like my father was. I love your parents. Are they always so affectionate toward each other?”
“Yes, and after the hell they’ve gone through, I have a feeling nothing could break their bond.”
“You mean losing Ashley?”
“That was the worst blow, but on a daily basis there are all sorts of stresses. The restaurant, and me and my brothers and the hard times we’ve had and given them. Not to mention the club. That can drive a stake between couples.”
Her brows knitted. “I assumed you didn’t have club girls hanging around, but I guess I shouldn’t assume that.”
“We don’t do any of that shit. That’s not what the club is about. If a guy strays, it’s not because of the club. I was talking about the types of issues we handle. We aren’t allowed to talk about club business outside of the club, even to girlfriends or wives. I’m sure my mother is privy to a little more than other wives since she’s married to the VP, but for the most part, if my old man says he’s got to take care of something, she doesn’t ask questions.”
“But anyone who gets involved with a Dark Knight must know that.”
“Yes, but knowing it is one thing. Seeing your man come home bloody, with his eye swollen shut, or worse, and knowing he can’t tell you why or how or anything about what went down is a whole different ball game.”
“That’s how it is in the biker books I’ve edited. I think that would be hard for anyone, but the way I look at it, if you’re with someone who’s helping others, how can you not respect and support that? Now, if you were with a one-percenter, that would be a different story.”
“That’s just one reason you’re so special.”
He was always doing that, complimenting her so casually, it was hard not to believe him and get caught up in it.
“ Hi , Baz,” said a cute waitress with kinky blond hair and tattoos on her arms as she set two glasses of water on their table.
“Hey, Starr,” Baz said. “This is Emerson and her little boy, Brennan.”
“I figured as much. It’s not every day you bring a woman and a baby in for lunch.” Starr smiled at her. “Hi, Emerson. Ginger is in love with your little boy. He’s adorable, and you look amazing. I looked like death warmed over for months after Gracie was born.”
“Thanks. How old is your daughter?”
“Four and a half going on ruling the world.” Starr laughed. “Mads said you might come to the book club meeting. I hope you do, so we can get to know each other.”
“You’re in the book club, too?” Emerson asked with surprise.
“Sure am. Mads wrangled me in a few years ago. If you go, we can bond over the trials and tribulations of being a single parent.”
“I’d like that. It would be nice to get to know another single mom.”
“Great. Then let’s get you guys fed while your little one is sleeping. I know how precious these quiet moments are.” Starr went over the lunch specials and took their lunch orders—shrimp tacos for Emerson and a burger and fries for Baz. “I’ll bring these out as soon as they’re ready.”
As she walked away, Emerson said, “I haven’t had shrimp tacos since I vacationed here with my parents.”
“Did you come every summer?”
“No. My parents loved visiting small towns, so most years we went someplace new, but we came here a few times because it was my favorite. I remember going to the beach and making sandcastles with my dad and going to a drive-in theater, which is probably long gone by now. But my favorite part of the whole summer was the fires we had in the firepit behind our cottage. We’d roast marshmallows until we were too stuffed to eat another bite, and then we’d lie on a blanket and look up at the stars. My dad used to pretend to see all sorts of crazy animals and shapes in the stars, and I remember trying so hard to find them.” She smiled at the memory. “Eventually I always found some group of stars that formed whatever shape he’d called out. I’m sure it was a stretch for my parents to act like they saw the ones I pointed to, but I believed them, and it made me happy.”
“That’s the magic of the Cape. It’s the simple things that bring families together.”
“I love that. It’s what I want for Brennan to grow up with.”
“Then he will. The Wellfleet drive-in is still open. I’ll take you and Brennan there sometime.”
“I’d like that. What were your family vacations like?”
“Usually we went to see family, like our cousins in Salvation Falls, which is in Upstate New York, and we’d go to rallies with other Dark Knight chapters and hang with the kids.”
“Did you like it?”
“Hell yeah. I still do. The coolest guys I know are Dark Knights.”
“It must be nice to have that big a circle of friends.”
“It is, and hopefully one day you’ll have it, too.”
The thoughtful way he was looking at her made her wonder if he meant it the way it came across, implying they might be more than friends one day. But this was the same man who twisted the things she said into sexy jokes. He probably hadn’t realized how it came across.
Pushing away that thought, she tried to keep the conversation light, so her overactive imagination would settle down. “It’s nice being out like this. I haven’t been to a restaurant since before I got pregnant.”
“That’s a damn shame. If I’d known you during your pregnancy, I would’ve taken you anytime you wanted.” He turned in his seat, those piercing blue eyes stirring butterflies in her again. “Why did you turn me down for the last few weeks when I asked you to meet me for lunch?”
“I wanted to wait until I felt more like myself so I could enjoy it.”
“And you feel that way now?”
She thought about that for a second. “I feel like a new version of myself. A mom version.” She took a drink of water.
“In that case, the mom version is damn hot.”
She choked on her water, coughing.
He patted her back. “You okay?”
“Yes. Sorry.” She cleared her throat and set down her glass, telling herself to get a grip.
“So what’s different between the old you and the new you?”
“What’s not different would be easier to answer. Let’s start with the obvious. I’m heavier than I ever was, and that takes getting used to.”
“I didn’t know you before, but”—his gaze slid slowly down her body, and her nipples pebbled under the heat of it—“you’ve got killer curves in all the right places, so if you’re worried about that, don’t be.”
“ Wow , your charm is on overdrive today.” She fanned her face and took another drink.
He grinned. “I’m just being honest. What else is different?”
“Give a girl a second to catch her breath.”
They both laughed.
“Everything is different. My thoughts start and end with Brennan. What does he need? Is he okay? Am I showing him enough love?”
“You never skimp in the love department.”
Warming with his praise, she glanced at her sleeping boy. “Good. I hope I never do.” Returning her attention to Baz, she said, “I’m writing every little thing he does in his baby book, so I never forget any of it, and I see things differently now. When I look around my cottage, I see it through mom eyes , which I didn’t know was a thing. He can’t even crawl yet, but I never leave anything on the floor just in case, and I’m making mental lists about baby proofing. Putting him down for his nap in his crib felt like he was miles away from me.” The first day she’d put him down for a nap in the nursery had brought another whirlwind of emotions. Not just about Brennan but also about Baz and the help he’d given her by painting and setting up the room. “We both sleep better that way, but just because he’s out of sight never means he’s off my mind. That’s not a complaint, it’s just me acknowledging the changes in myself.”
“All of that shows you’re a caring mother, but it’s okay to complain sometimes. If you get tired or need a break. I’ll never judge you for that.”
“I know you won’t,” she said honestly. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”
“If I’ve seen you at your worst, then your worst is not bad at all. What else you got?”
“Some differences are more difficult to deal with. Like now that I’m feeling well enough to take on more editing work, I don’t have the same drive to do it. I used to be chomping at the bit to dive into a new manuscript.”
“What would you rather be doing?”
You was on the tip of her tongue.
I can’t believe I’m thinking that.
That was a lie. She thought about being closer to Baz a lot. Gwen thought it was normal, given how close they’d become. But it didn’t feel normal to be lusting after a friend who had never made a move toward becoming anything more.
“Em…?” he said, drawing her from her thoughts. “What would you rather be doing?”
“Oh, um . Staring at Brennan.” She looked down at her beautiful boy. “Look at that little face. I can’t get enough of him.”
“Neither can I, and I’m not his parent. I think it’s normal to be consumed by your baby the first few months. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I guess not, but short of that, I’d rather be baking.”
“Sounds to me like this might be a good time to think about my mother’s suggestion.”
“I don’t know.” She wrinkled her nose. “You know how you can love doing something, but if you do it too much, it loses its spark?”
“Can’t say that I do. I’ve never lost a spark for something I love doing. I’ve been riding motorcycles for more than a decade and a half, and it never gets old.”
“That’s because guys get off on words like throttle and choke,” she teased.
“And you think you’re not ready to date.” There was no missing the heat in his eyes.
“I am not into being throttled or choked.” Flustered by the thought that he might be into that, she said, “Can we stick to the subject?”
“You’re the one who got me sidetracked.”
“You can’t blame me for your weird proclivities.”
“I’m not into that, and I’m not the one who brought it up.” He held her gaze for a beat, and her pulse quickened. “What were we talking about again? Oh yeah. Sparks. Veterinary work has never lost its spark, and neither has the club. When you love something, that love keeps the flames alive. I know you baked with your mom, but have you been doing it since you lost your parents, or is it something you started doing again only recently?”
“I never stopped. It’s one of the things that got me through losing them. The therapist said I should do the things we did together that made me happy, and baking was on the top of that list. I tried to continue dropping off cookies at all the places I did with my mom, but it was too hard. Too many people asked about her, and that made me sad. So, I just baked fewer cookies, and as I got older, I gave them to some of the baristas at the coffee shop where I did my editing and the owners of the places where I got takeout. That kind of thing.”
“And it hasn’t dulled the spark yet?”
She shook her head. “But it could .”
He reached over and took her hand, his expression turning serious. “I’m going to take a leap of faith here and tell you what I think.”
“ Okay. Way to make a girl nervous.”
“I’m good at that.” He winked. “I could be way off base, but from what you’ve told me, you’ve never veered too far off the safe path you laid out for yourself after you lost your parents. I wonder if you’re afraid that doing so, following your passion for baking and easing up on editing, which you said you’re doing because it makes you feel closer to your mom, might cause you to lose your connection to her?”
A lump formed in her throat. That was exactly what she’d worried about when Ginger had mentioned it to her. “Maybe,” she managed.
He squeezed her hand, a small smile curving his lips. “I understand that risk feels real, but your bond with your parents is in your heart, not in the editing, and that bond is as strong as your bond with Brennan. Nothing will ever detract from that. Not a job, a lover, or an angry thought at the world for losing them.”
Tears threatened, and she held his hand tighter, knowing he was right and wondering how he knew. It was like he’d been put in her path to help her navigate her new life.
“Moving here was a risk,” he reminded her. “And now you’ve made friends, and you feel safe, and best of all, you get to hang out with a great guy.”
She smiled, thankful for the levity. “That’s true, although he is pushy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not into my pushiness, Lockhart. If you give a baking business a try, what’s the worst that can happen? You don’t enjoy it, so you stop selling your cookies and go back to doing it as a hobby and take on more editing? On the flip side, what if baking for customers instead of friends inspires you, and ten years from now you can’t imagine doing anything else?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it like that.”
“Think about it. Years from now you could be praising me to the moon and back. I’ll be godlike in your eyes. I’m kind of digging that idea,” he said as Starr arrived with their lunch.
He didn’t release her hand as they talked with Starr. Emerson was so focused on their connection, she could do little more than smile and nod.
When Starr walked away, he squeezed her hand, drawing her attention. He had that look in his eyes again, like she was all he saw, making her stomach dip and her nerves ping. His thumb stroked the back of her hand in a mesmerizing pattern. “I think you should follow your heart, Em. It hasn’t led you astray yet.”
THEY SHARED THEIR lunches, talking about Brennan and a hundred other things, but Emerson couldn’t stop thinking about the way Baz had looked at her and held her hand. They said goodbye to his parents, and she promised to join them for dinner one night.
As they headed out to Baz’s truck, he put his hand on Emerson’s back, the heat of it searing through her shirt. She scrambled for a distraction. “Thanks for lunch. That was really fun.”
“Yeah, it was. We should do it more often.” He opened the back door to the truck and put Brennan’s car seat on its base.
“Wait. I have his binky.” She put a hand on Baz’s back, reaching around him to put the pacifier in Brennan’s mouth. Baz turned his face, his eyes boring into her, his lips a whisper away. She was transfixed, unable to move, to think past the desires in his eyes and the heat igniting between them. Her heart thundered as he reached up and caressed her cheek. But in the next breath, he plucked something from her hair.
His gaze shifted briefly to whatever it was, a grin lighting up his eyes as they found hers. “That’s my girl. Always taking food with her.”
She was stuck on my girl , and it took a second for the embarrassment over having food in her hair again to kick in. “You never know when there’s going to be a food shortage.”
“You’re too damn cute, Lockhart.” In the space of a heartbeat, his expression turned heated, and he growled, “Fuck it.” He pushed his hand into her hair, tugging her forward as he lowered his lips to hers in a smoldering kiss. His tongue swept over hers, intoxicatingly strong and excitingly deep, stealing her ability to think. When he broke the kiss, he gritted out, “I’ve been dying to kiss you for weeks.”
“Me too.” She pulled his lips back to hers.
He quickly took control, angling her mouth beneath his, taking the kiss deeper. Pleasure coursed through her veins. She felt more alive than she ever had, every sensation magnified. Every slick of his tongue sent fire through her core, every gruff, gratified noise drawing a moan from someplace deep inside her. She wanted to memorize those sounds, his taste, the feel of his hard body as she melted into him. His fingers tightened in her hair, causing a rush of desire. She clung to his shoulders, going up on her toes, desperate for more. His other arm snaked around her waist, crushing her to him as he intensified his efforts. Every hard inch of him pressed into her, making her crave even more. This wasn’t anything like the kisses she’d known. It was a raw and powerful act of possession, and she reveled in it.
His hand slid from her waist, up her back, and into her hair as he slowed them down, as if he was savoring every second of their connection just as she was. Their lips parted briefly, but they both went back for more. A fast, hard devouring, before their mouths separated again. The sounds of their hampered breathing and her thundering heart were all she could hear. He kept her close, both hands fisted in her hair, and touched his forehead to hers, breathing her in. Brennan whispered through her mind. As if Baz had heard her thoughts, they both glanced at her sleeping son.
Baz’s eyes found hers again, hot and hungry. “I’m the only charming vet who gets to kiss these lips.” He kissed her again, soft and somehow also insistent.
Stunned that he could think at all, much less about what she’d said about Quinton, her own thoughts started trickling in. What am I doing? He’s going away. But lust pushed those thoughts away, and she said, “I don’t think there’s a line of charming vets waiting for someone like me.”
His brows slanted. “Darlin’, you have no idea how phenomenal you are.”
“ Baz. ” Her heart soared, but she wasn’t used to those types of compliments from anyone but Gwen, and she lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
He took her chin between his finger and thumb, lifting her face so she had no choice but to look at him. “Listen to me, Em. Hear me. You are head and shoulders above any woman I’ve ever known in every way. Got it?”
She swallowed hard. “I think you’re nuts, but I’m glad you are.”
He grinned. “I’m not nuts, and just so we’re clear, I don’t want anyone else kissing you. Vet or otherwise. Are you cool with that?”
Her heart was beating so hard, she was sure anyone walking by would hear it. “Yes, but it works both ways.”
“Fucking right it does.” He cradled her face between his hands and kissed her again. His phone rang. He cursed as he pulled it out of his pocket, then put it to his ear and said, “Yeah?” as he pulled Emerson against him. He listened, eyes narrowing. “Be there in fifteen.” He ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket. “As much as I want to kiss you all afternoon, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“That’s okay.”
He kissed her again, tenderly this time. Then he closed Brennan’s door and helped her into the truck, leaning in for one last kiss before shutting the door.
The drive to his office was a blur of racing thoughts and heart-pounding glances. When they arrived, he transferred Brennan’s car seat to her car. As he closed Brennan’s door, she said, “You’d better wipe that goofy grin off your face, or your friends are going to know something’s up.”
“Yeah?” He hauled her into his arms and said, “If I have it my way, the whole fucking town will know you’re mine by the end of the night.” He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her breathless.