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“Just wanted to,” he answered.
“Oh, okay.” Thank God she accepted the simple non-answer because he was too fucking terrified to find a deeper one.
Brenna smiled. “I liked it. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that.”
Caleb wriggled and cried out once, making them both chuckle.
“Way to kill the moment, buddy.” Lock released Brenna. “Let me get him in his crib before he fully wakes up.”
She nodded. “I should probably get going anyway.”
As she started to rise, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet.”
Her eyes held the questions she didn’t voice.
Why should I stay?
What does this mean?
Questions he didn’t acknowledge or answer.
It only took a few minutes to settle Caleb in his crib. Once the little guy fell asleep, transferring him was an easy process. Lock tried to put him to bed awake—he’d read babies needed to learn to put themselves to sleep, but tonight, he had a beautiful woman waiting on him. It wasn’t the night for sleep training.
God, the things he now thought about.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him as he left Caleb’s room. Being a parent wiped him out. Tack on a daily battle with sobriety, and the fatigue hit epic levels.
As he returned to the den, Brenna watched him. “You looked tired.”
He chuckled. “I was just thinking about how exhausted I am. This parenting shit is as tiring as they say it will be.”
That had her laughing. “Parenting shit?”
He shrugged as he plopped down on the couch. “Yep.”
Brenna scooted over until their sides were pressed against each other. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re knocking this parenting shit out of the park.”
He rested his hand on her upper thigh. “Who knew you were such a good liar?” Her warmth and gentle weight pressed against him combined with the comfort of the couch, making his eyelids droop.
If she responded, he never heard her. Sleep snuck up and claimed him so fast he didn’t stand a chance at fighting it. One second, he was more comfortable than he ever remembered feeling, and the next—peaceful oblivion.
And no one would ever know if he dreamed of a future with long, hot nights and blissful days spent worshiping a brown-eyed woman.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THUMP.
Thump.
Thump.
The solid rhythmic beat coaxed Brenna from a deep, nourishing sleep. She floated, warm and relaxed, while the sound lured her into a dreamlike state. She’d be happy to lay right there forever, half-awake on top of Lock’s strong—
Her eyes flew open as the pleasant sensation evaporated in a flash.
Lock?
What the hell was Lock doing there? And why was she on top of him? A quick scan of the room revealed she wasn’t in her home as she’d planned, but in Lock’s den, on his couch.
