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So very male.
Something inside me twinged, and it definitely wasn’t annoyance. There was some lust in there too, but not only that. When he leaned against the doorjamb, his hair all messy and dark and wet from the snow, his clothes wrinkled, his eyes heavy with a combination of fatigue and things I didn’t want to think too much about...
I wanted to hold him. And yes, get naked and climb in his lap, but also be the one to comfort him and rub those lines away from his eyes.
Even if coming clean about our situation had inadvertently helped put them there.
My first inclination was to rise and go to him, despite what had happened. I’d been the first one to slam out of that room, and that had been wrong too. But the instant I moved, I smelled the alcohol on him. It wafted out of his pores, or off his jacket.
Ugh, I didn’t even know.
I cupped the baby’s head in my hand and pressed my back against the chair. I could only imagine my expression.
But I didn’t have to imagine his. He was staring at us in a way that tangled up everything inside me in complicated knots. His gaze was hot, but tender too. He never looked away.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough, as abrasive as uneven concrete. “I’m still pretty drunk.”
“I could smell you.”
“Really?” He lifted his sleeve and sniffed. “Think you smell the bar on me. I didn’t have that much.”
“No? Then why is your voice slurred?” I didn’t add that it was also sexy, which was ridiculous. But it was as if normally hyper speed, ultra-focused Asher had dialed himself back a few notches. Leaving him a little slower, a little softer, a little more unguarded.
One hundred and twenty percent dangerous as he walked toward us with long, unhurried steps. The nursery wasn’t that big, but it felt as if our eyes locked forever while he crossed the room.
“I had some whiskey. Got drunk. It helps me not to think so hard. Not in a rush to have it end.” He licked his lips. “Are you going to kill my buzz, Hannah?”
Asher saying my name should be a criminal offense. “I’m just sitting here, minding my business.”
“You’re sitting there, rocking my baby.” He leaned over and braced his hands on the arms of the rocking chair, and my heart went into overdrive. I would’ve sworn I heard it knocking against my ribs. “Both my babies. Isn’t that right?”
I didn’t say anything. What could I say? He’d admitted he was drunk. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It wasn’t repulsive. If anything, that hint of the forbidden pulled at me. As if I could ride his high with him.
A high I couldn’t have on my own any longer. Not for quite some time.
“Your lips are trembling.” He touched my lower lip with his thumb and it was a damn miracle I didn’t crush Lily in reaction. Every part of me braced.
He sensed it, because he backed off and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he said again after a moment.
“For what? For coming home drunk?” Only after the word was out did I realize how foolish I was being. This wasn’t my home. Even if he’d invited me to stay there, it was just for Lily.
I was getting all tangled up in something that wasn’t meant for me.
“Yeah.”
“What about for leaving in the first place? For getting mad at me because we made a baby together?”
He fisted his hands in his pockets, making them bulge. “I’m not mad at you,” he said quietly. “I never was. I regret causing you to think that. It was a fucking dream you walked back into my life.”
Before I could reply, he touched the top of Lily’s head, just a brush of his fingers, and strode out of the room.
He’s drunk.
He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
It may not even be true.
A fucking dream? Really?
