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“You made this Christmas unforgettable.” Scout has his shirt unbuttoned, and he’s holding their tiny infant against his bare chest.
If we weren’t practically siblings, I’d be swooning. Their little boy is pink and perfect, and he’s snuggled up like a little peanut against his daddy. I slide my hand up and down the soft skin on his little back.
“He’s so adorable,” I coo. “And no red eyes.”
I wink at my cousin who drops her head back. “Thank you, Baby Jesus.”
“What the—?” Scout gives us a look, and I wave it away.
“He’s going to hate having a Christmas birthday,” I redirect. “We’ll have to be sure never to combine Christmas presents and birthday presents.”
“The ultimate insult.” Scout grins, and my nose wrinkles as I return his smile.
He’s so proud. Our voices are quiet, and the lights in the room are dim. “You’re going to have so much fun with him. What does Melody think?”
“She’s already assigned him a position on the team. She said since he’s so little, he’ll have to be the kicker.”
“Where does she learn this stuff?” Daisy shakes her head. “Would you like to hold him, Spence?”
Spencer has been hanging back in the corner since we arrived, and he glances over at my cousin. “I would never disturb a sleeping infant. He’s happy where he is.”
“Hey, man, I’m sorry. I’ll be holding him for a long time. Have a turn.” Scout heads straight for my husband, and to my surprise, Spencer doesn’t recoil or pull away.
He takes the baby with ease, sliding one hand under his back and bottom while supporting Atticus’s tiny head with the other.
Warmth floods my stomach, and I go over to stand beside him, putting my hand in the crook of his arm. “Isn’t he divine?”
He holds the newborn for a moment, studying his face like a piece of expensive china. Then his eyebrow arches, and he nods briefly. “I think this one looks like you, Daisy.”
“As always, your expert opinion is exactly right,” my cousin quips. “By the way, who taught you to hold a baby so well?”
“Is it supposed to be difficult?” He looks from my cousin to me. “Supporting his head is the main thing.”
“It’s a good look on you, man.” Scout sits beside Daisy, putting his arm around her as she sinks into his side.
I rise onto my tiptoes to kiss Spencer’s cheek. “You never stop surprising me.”
His eyes trace the small infant a moment longer before returning to me. “You make me surprise myself.”
We’re finally aloneat the end of a busy, unexpected day, and I feel like I’ve run a marathon after dropping a bomb—or at least lighting a fuse.
My stomach is tight, and I’m a little jittery when Spencer emerges from the bathroom freshly showered with black silk pajama pants riding low on his hips. He scrubs his hair with a towel, and I cross my arms, turning my back to the dresser to admire my gorgeous husband.
His bicep flexes attractively, and the lamplight deepens the shadows created by the lines of muscle running across his torso. That V along his hips disappears into his pants, and a bulge rises in the center, making me wonder if my news can’t wait a little longer.
“You are wearing those pants, sir.” My tone is naughty, and he hesitates.
His brow lowers, and chills skate up my arms as he slowly closes the space between us, tossing the towel aside. When he reaches me, he places both hands on the dresser, caging me.
It’s deliciously thrilling. I slide my palms along his narrow waist, thinking of the things this man can do to me. His skin is still warm from the shower, and my caress moves higher, around to his chest where I trace my fingernails through the light dusting of hair there.
My nipples tighten at the memory of how good his hard, naked body feels when it moves against mine, but his eyes make me pause.
“Joselyn.” His voice is low, and he reaches up to slide his palm along my cheek, threading his fingers in my hair. His eyes are so intense. “What exactly were you trying to say this morning in church?”
I exhale a little laugh. “You sure you want to talk about it now?”
His brows clench, and his eyes move from my face down my body. Straightening, he places his palm flat against my stomach, over the silk of my pajama top.
