Page 49 of One Steamy Pucking Meet Cute

I scoop him out of her arms, grateful for a job I can handle.

Paisley holds one of the blues up to my face, closes one eye, tilts her head, and frowns. “Hmm… I don’t know.” She sets it down to pick up another that looks identical to the previous blue, and her eyes light up. “Now this? This might be a keeper.” She turns, holding it up to Caroline, and then shakes her head sadly. “But no… Not meant to be.”

I meet Caroline’s eyes and widen mine slightly, silently asking her if Paisley is serious.

Caroline just lifts a finger to her lips, smiling.

And so my evening continues. The guys go out to the driveway to play a game of pickup hockey once Nolan arrives with Mia. And me? I’m stuck in color swatch hell.

20

CAROLINE

Jake, Cade, and Mikey–Cade’s father–have spent most of the night working on the pipes at the B&B. I had no idea Jake would help, but when we returned from Jesse’s cabin together and found Cade and his dad working, Jake jumped right in.

The optimistic part of me wants to say he’s just being helpful. I want to see it as a sweet gesture by the father of my child–something to help speed up the process of getting the water turned back on and not leaking from my ceilings. But the pessimistic part of me wonders if he’s just avoiding the inevitable point where we’ll be alone again.

I have to admit I was stressed about it. Tomorrow, we’re all meeting at the town center for the beginning of the wedding games. The last time we talked on the phone, we argued about it again. The conversation ended with Jake clearly thinking we should just call the whole thing off and me thinking he was being unreasonable.

And then there was that kiss at Jesse’s cabin. What the hell was that?

Since returning from Manhattan, it’s like we’ve both been trying to cage the obvious sparks between us. But that kiss… none of the sparks were held back. I felt freaking fireworks again. Even now, hours later, I’ve still got pools of desire practically burning through my insides.

But I busy myself around the B&B, mostly trying to stay out of the guys’ way. In part, I’m trying not to slow them down. But it’s also painful to watch them tear the ceiling apart so they can get to the pipes. According to Mikey, he will have to rip out a big section of the ceiling in the lobby and kitchen. Then, he’ll have to remove a large chunk of wall in the kitchen.

Since Jake knows nothing about plumbing, he’s helping pry the wooden boards from the ceiling and then replacing them after Cade and Mikey fix the pipes.

Occasionally, I steal glances Jake’s way when he’s up on the step stool. He’s so damn tall he doesn’t even need a real ladder to reach the ceiling. He’s just using a dinky little step stool and raising his long arms. Sometimes, his sweater rides up high enough that I can see a tantalizing strip of bare skin above the waist of his jeans.

Tantalizing, tanned, muscular, deliciously sexy skin.

I catch myself staring again and focus back on my notebook. Working, Caroline. You were working.

Eventually, though, sleepiness gets the better of me. I thank the guys again and head up to sleep.

I try to wait a little while and read a book in bed, but I’m having trouble getting into it and only make it about six pages before the soft sounds of Walker’s breathing lull me to sleep.

I wake up feeling the kind of refreshed that only happens when Jake stays with me at the B&B. He never asks. He just wakes up and takes care of Walker whenever he makes the tiniest sound, letting me sleep as long as I’ve got bottles of breast milk ready in the fridge.

I stretch luxuriously, yawning and smiling. Walker is wide awake, kicking and fidgeting around in his crib. I pat his diaper, and I can tell it’s fresh and clean.

I really made a baby with the right guy. Even if we’re tangled in a confusing mess right now, there’s no denying that much.

I hear the sink running, so I pad barefoot out of bed and reach my hand to knock on the door. It swings open before my knuckles meet wood.

Jake is wearing athletic clothes, powerful pecs pressing against the white fabric of his t-shirt.

“Morning,” he says. “Bathroom’s all yours. I’m going out for a jog.”

“Oh,” I say. “Are we good about today? About the wedding games and everything? I didn’t really get a chance to ask you last night.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine.”

He brushes past me and leaves without giving me time to get another word in.

I stare after him, leaning in the doorway to the bathroom and letting out a long breath. Then the scent of Walker’s poopy diaper drifts to my nose. “Really, Walker?” I ask. “You had to wait until your Daddy left to do that?”

He kicks and wiggles, too cute to even be frustrated with. I smile and go to him. “Why can’t your Daddy be so easy to understand? Is he mad about the wedding games? Or is he stressed that we’re having to keep a secret from so many people? Or maybe he’s just worried about all his friends retiring from hockey? Which one is it, Walker?”

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