Page 68 of Beating Heart
. . .
Emerson
I worked on the puzzle with Cutler and Nash while Winnie fell asleep on their couch. We had Rice Krispie treats, and they both gave me way too much credit by acting like I’d cured a freaking deadly disease because I put colorful sprinkles in them and called them unicorn Krispies. Cutler made me promise to teach him how to make them sometime soon.
Nash went to bathe his son, and I’d thought that was my cue to leave, but he’d asked me to stay. So I’d done the dishes and taken Winnie out back before settling on his couch.
“Sunny, I came to say goodnight. Pops said I can’t ask you to read me a book, though, so I’m just giving you a hug.” Cutler looked like the cutest thing I’d ever laid eyes on. His pajamas were covered in little hot dogs, and his hair was damp and slicked back in his typical fashion. He had large dark eyes and these pink little cheeks and the cutest button nose.
“Hey. I told you not to ask her,” Nash grumped, shaking his head at his son.
“I didn’t ask. I just told her that I wasn’t allowed to ask her.” He waggled his brows and leaned forward to hug me. He smelled like coconut and sunshine, and I imagined the coconut was his body wash and shampoo, and the sunshine was just a Cutler Heart thing.
“What if I would like to read him a book?” I asked, pushing to my feet.
“Unbelievable.” Nash threw his hands in the air. “You’re too slick for your own good, Beefcake.”
“And you’ve got the best balls in town, Pops.”
My head fell back in laughter. This little boy was like a breath of fresh air for me. After the bitterness I’d felt these last few months, being here, around Nash and his son, it was exactly what I’d needed.
I had a new perspective on life in a way. I wasn’t mopey and sad anymore.
And today should be the day that I felt the most down in the dumps.
But as I walked down the hallway toward Cutler’s bedroom, I felt anything but.
I felt like I’d dodged a bullet. Of course, the way the bullet had just missed me was an unpleasant experience, but I was grateful to be exactly where I was today.
I kicked off my sandals and hopped onto the bed beside Cutler, him beneath the covers and me on top. Nash sat in the chair beside the bed, and Winnie jumped up on his lap as if she were a lapdog, which she very much was not. We all laughed, and I turned the first page on his latest Junie B. Jones book. He chuckled a few times as I read two chapters.
His eyes were heavy, and his little hand was wrapped around mine, and I freaking loved it. He was so cuddly and cute, and I was happy to be in here, reading to him.
Nash pushed to his feet, helping Winnie off his lap before she jumped up on the foot of Cutler’s bed.
“Can Winnie stay in here until Sunny goes home?” Cutler whispered, his voice sleepy. Nash glanced over at me as I climbed off the bed. I gave him a nod, and he agreed to let her stay for a little bit. I kissed Cutler on the cheek and patted my pup on the head as I followed Nash out of the room and down the hallway.
We’d barely made it to the kitchen, when he spun me around, pressed my back against the wall beside the refrigerator, and stepped closer.
“Did you really need to read two chapters?” His voice was gruff, eyes zoned in on my mouth.
I laughed. “Two chapters seemed fair.”
“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to kiss you for the last few hours? Hell, all fucking day. Do you have any idea how crazy you’re making me?”
My tongue wet my bottom lip because my mouth went dry. “Tell me.”
“Well, you come over here looking like a fucking vision, wearing this pretty white skirt and top,” he said, his fingers tracing along the sliver of skin exposed on my stomach. His fingers were calloused, yet they moved so lightly, and I loved the feel against my skin. “Groaning when you ate my cooking and torturing me.”
“Well, you do have the best balls in town, neighbor. Even gramps thinks so,” I said, my voice laced with humor, even though my heart raced at his nearness.
At his touch.
At the look in his eyes as he watched me.
“I know today is a tough day for you, and I sure as shit don’t want to push you. Hell, I don’t know what I have to offer you, Emerson. But I know that I desperately want to kiss you again.” His fingers continued the soothing motion back and forth along my skin, his other hand moving to the side of my neck.
“Today hasn’t been tough at all, which is surprising. I don’t know what that says about me.”
