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He looks me in the eyes. “Tell me what you need.”
This man. This beautiful man.
“Nothing. I am going to live and bake and be happy.” I wiggle my brows. “You want to do it with me?”
His gaze darkens. “Every goddamn day.”
“I’ll talk to my dad soon…and I’ll do it. I did it before, and I can do it again.”
“You can.”
I hold out the spatula. “Taste.”
He does, satisfaction in his expression. “It’s outstanding.”
“Now…the bad.” I cover the bowl of frosting and head for the fridge. Davis moves, following me. I stare into the fluorescent light of the fridge and say, “Fallon’s riding bulls.”
“Christ.”
“She’s all banged up. Black and blue.” I shut the fridge and turn toward him. He looks none too happy. “I’m worried, Davis. She’s working with Pappy Starr, and I don’t think he has her best interests at heart.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll talk to her.” The way he looks out for my little sister like one of his own warms my heart.
“You won’t sway her,” I tell him. “I tried but…”
“What is it with you McGraw women?” He sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “When you don’t listen, you argue.”
“Stubborn.”
“I’ll still talk to her.”
“Talk,” I order. “Not boss.”
“Fine,” he says, but a grin tilts his lips.
Before I can get back to my work, he snags my arm and pulls me back against him. “How’s Squish?”
The raw husk of his voice scrapes along my spine, warming my core.
“Squish is good.”
Davis puts a massive hand on my belly, applying light pressure to move the baby’s feet out of my rib cage. Squish likes Davis’s broad palm on my belly and his rough rumble of a voice.
My baby has some of the best sense I’ve ever known.
I sigh, tilt my head back against his chest. “You’re so good with him.”
He smiles. “You want to put me to work?”
“Nope.” I turn to face him. “I’m done. Just need to frost and assemble it the day of. Besides, you’re one of the worst sous-chefs I’ve ever had.” I pinch his ass and laugh. “But you’re sexy as hell in these Wranglers, Davis Montgomery.”
His eyes flare. “I like this. You, here with me.”
I nuzzle against his throat. “The baby’s coming,” I whisper. “There’s so much to do. I don’t even have a crib for him.”
He makes a growl of disgruntlement in his throat. Tightens his arms around me. “I know.”
“Are you sure?” Hand on his chest, I look up into his eyes. “About us?”
