Page 62 of Buckin' Around

“I sent you a text, Spencer. Ivy is asleep.”

Everything about this feels wrong.

I shift on my feet. A man’s never been so goddamn humbled.

“Rile—”

She holds up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to wake Ives.”

“Can I see her for a second?”

Why am I asking?

Riley sighs. “Sure.”

She steps back, and I push the door open and slip inside.

The bassinet Ivy is too big for sits empty on the floor. Ivy is asleep on the single bed, towels rolled and slid under the bottom fitted sheet to create a makeshift barrier so she doesn’t roll out of bed. Smart.

I pad to where Ivy sleeps. She looks perfect.

Content and safe. Happy, even, as her little face twitches with whatever dream she’s having. She sucks on her pacifier for a short burst, and then it falls from her mouth.

I reach for it.

Fine fingers close around my wrist. “Leave it, Spencer.”

Riley is by my side, her robe hugged around her elegant body, her long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she pulls my hand away from the baby.

My body is picking up where it left off behind the chutes, that hum surging to life with Riley in my space.

Fuck me.

I take a step forward and Riley takes one back, her grip still on my wrist.

I dip my head, gaze searching her face like what happened earlier will simply be written there.

“Talk to me, O’Malley.”

Her breaths crash out as she tilts her head up.

“No, not now.” The words are strung out.

“Something’s not right. Everything about this weekend is different, and I can’t tell if it’s good different or bad different.”

Her face wars with a multitude of emotions before she swallows. “I can’t talk to you about this, Spencer.”

“Why not?” I growl.

I take another step and she takes two back, the back of her legs hitting the bed.

Checkmate, O’Malley.

I eat up the distance between us in a heartbeat and cup her face in my hands.

Fuck it.

“You can either tell me what the hell has you so wound up, or you can kiss me.”