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“Like you?”
“Yep. Like me.” He kissed her once more, but this time his hands slid up to her breasts, his dick getting harder as her nipples pebbled beneath his palms.
“You are not a generous loser.”
“Not that part.” He tugged her T-shirt down. “The always winning part.” He kissed her breast, teasing her nipple with his tongue.
“You lost last night.” Her fingers played in his hair.
“I did.” He gave her nipple one last tug with his teeth before leaning up and kissing her. “Especially when I didn’t celebrate your victory with you.”
“That was mean of you but”—she grinned—“when you stormed off to your office it did make winning a little more fun.”
“You, my dear, are not a good winner.” He laughed.
“Our child is doomed.”
“I think so.” He touched her cheek. “Seriously though, I haven’t lost at anything in years, lots of years, but you…you did good.” He kissed her again. “I wish I could stay here and celebrate with you, but I do have to go.”
“Thank you.” Her grin spread across her face and it made him happy in ways he didn’t want to think about. “You should’ve woken me last night and congratulated me.” She rolled to his side of the bed and grabbed his pillow.
“I should’ve.” He took in the sight of her snuggling his pillow and his stomach flipped. He was falling fast, and he had no idea how to slow things down or if he even wanted to.
“What?” She gave him a funny look. “Do you not want me to touch your pillow?” She started to sit up.
“No. That’s not…Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” She dropped it.
“I’m sure.” He walked over to her and handed her his pillow. “I liked it. That’s all.”
“You liked it?” Her eyes grew softer and filled with something that sent the fear of God into every cell in his body.
“Yeah, as long as you aren’t wearing that vanilla perfume that makes everything smell like a bakery.” He shivered in jest.
“You know, your child is going to want cookies.” She hugged his pillow again.
“He or she can have cookies. They sell great ones in the stores.” He headed for the door.
“That’s not the same as homemade,” she hollered after him.
“Nope. They’re better. They don’t make the house smell like vanilla.”
CHAPTER 36: Harker
Harker parked his car in the garage and got out. Today had been a long day. The conference call had been a waste of time and the facility had been a dump. The realtor had taken them to see three others and they’d all been in poor shape or outrageously expensive. All he wanted to do was go inside and see Alison. His night was planned. They’d have dinner, shower and fuck. He stepped inside the house and the scent of freshly baked cookies slapped him in the face.
“What the fuck,” he muttered before he yelled, “Alison.”
“Harker,” she yelled back.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. She normally just came running. He stepped into the kitchen and it looked like a cookie factory had exploded. “What the hell did you do?”
She pulled a pan from the oven, put it on the top of the stove and then turned. Her eyes were bright and her smile wide and excited. “I made you cookies. I got my mom’s recipes. I didn’t know which you’d like so I made sugar cookies, peanut butter and chocolate chip.”
His day had just gone from bad to horrible. All those feelings of being treated like a piece of trash that no one wanted roared through him. He turned and went directly to the bar in the living room. He poured himself a few fingers of bourbon and tossed it back.
“Harker, is everything okay.” She stood in the doorway looking unsure.
