Page 49 of The Vineyard Crush

I smoothed her tousled curls one last time before padding toward the doorway. Only to falter at the vision awaiting me in the hallway.

Ridge leaned against the opposite wall, arms casually folded and bedroom eyes hooded as that rumbly baritone rasped out in a sinuous caress.

As soon as Lily’s soft snuffles of sleep filled the air, I carefully extricated myself from her tangle of sheets and stuffed animals. A quick peek into Avery’s nursery assured me she too was out like a light, lips pursed in that cherubic pout. Satisfied my little charges were dreaming peacefully, I padded out into the hallway, gently pulling the door shut behind me.

Only to nearly swallow my tongue at the vision awaiting me.

There stood Ridge, slouched against the wall directly opposite Lily’s room, grinning that slow, sleepy smile that sparked insidious embers low in my core. Mussed raven locks tumbled across his brow in delicious disarray, giving me an unobstructed view of that ruggedly handsome mug in all its shadowed glory.

“You’re amazing, you know?” he rumbled—voice rough and smoky in a way that never failed to liquefy my insides.

Ridge pushed off from his nonchalant lean, brushing past me with the barest contact of shoulders that jolted electricity through my veins. I spun to trail his hulking silhouette, watching through a heated haze as one calloused knuckle grazed Lily’s porcelain cheek in a featherlight caress.

“She hasn’t slept through the night in months,” he murmured, deep timbre shredded into gravel. “Not since…”

His throat clicked on a swallow, leaving that damning statement dangling between us. Yet I could almost scent the anguish and frustration rolling off him in waves—no elaboration required.

Of course. Not since his ex bailed on her family and left her babies to suffer through one of childhood’s most traumatic betrayals. I felt a fierce protectiveness flare within me, aching to somehow salve those lingering wounds left to fester for far too long.

Slowly, Ridge sank onto the narrow mattress edge beside his sleeping daughter. His stupendous weight caused the antique frame to creak in protest—but Lily didn’t so much as twitch, cocooned in her undisturbed state of innocent bliss.

I watched, rooted in place, as Ridge bent to brush the gentlest of kisses in turn across both Lily’s brow and my own. That heated graze of full, whiskered lips seared me to my core, only compounded by his gruff murmur. “Neither have I.”

A heavy, bone-tired sigh gusted past those sinful lips before Ridge lifted that hooded, blazingly intense stare to mine. My breath stuttered in my throat, heat lancing straight between my thighs at the blatant yearning and fierce hunger flickering there.

With no conscious thought at all, my legs propelled me back to his side until our bodies nestled together seamlessly. The dense heat rolling off him caressed every crystalline nerve-ending, stoking my burgeoning arousal higher into smoldering overdrive.

“Yeah I can tell.” I reached up with exquisite deliberation, fingertips skimming the faint laugh lines etched at the corners of Ridge’s eyes before skating down his stubbled jawline. From this excruciatingly close proximity, the potently masculine aroma of untamed virility and crisp cedarwood engulfed me until my senses swam.

“You’re running yourself ragged,” I whispered, sensing the weariness embedded in those intensely magnetic depths. He let out the faintest rumble of pleasure as my palm cradled the sharp jut of his cheekbone

Turning into my touch, Ridge pressed a scorching kiss into the center of my palm that seared straight down my spine. My thumb traced the plush swell of his lower lip as it parted on a shuddering inhale. I shivered, yearning to chase away the ghosts that tormented this beautiful, complex man.

“I’m so fucking scared I’m messing up this whole dad thing,” Ridge rasped, the rawness of his confession plucking at my heartstrings. “Especially whenever I overhear comments about their mom…”

Without conscious volition, I found myself leaning into the blazing heat swirling between us, closer and closer until that whiskey-rasp whispered across my flushed cheeks. “You’re not,” I assured him. “Look at them, Ridge. Those kids love you more than anything. They know you’re giving them everything.”

A ragged exhalation fanned across my tingling lips. “Sometimes I leave them with my folks or James because I’m so damn tired and wrung out that I’m useless. The guilt just about crushes me, but it’s either that or risk taking my frustrations out on them when they don’t deserve it.”

My fingers trembled as I leaned closer, breath catching at the intensity simmering in Ridge’s darkened eyes. His pupils were blown wide, a storm of longing and apprehension brewing in those granite depths.

My fingers trace the creased lines etched at the corners of Ridge’s eyes, worries and weariness carved into his striking features. I lean in closer, brushing my lips featherlight against each furrowed trail. His lids flutter at the whisper of contact, but he doesn’t pull away.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, lips grazing the sandpapery stubble along his jaw delighting in the way he instinctively leaned into my touch. “Don’t you dare torture yourself over that, It’s more than okay to ask for help, to take breaks and safeguard your own sanity. No one as caring as you would ever willingly lash out.”

With tender, skimming caresses, I traced every rugged plane and chiseled ridge of his features as if committing the topography of his divine maleness to memory. Ridge’s pupils went saucer-wide, that powerful chest visibly straining beneath his form-fitting shirt while thick lashes fluttered on shallow inhalations.

My mouth trailed along the sharp edge of his jaw, placing slow, tender kisses that made him shudder. His powerful arms tightened around me, crushing our bodies together with scorching friction.

“You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.” I painted a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth, unable to resist tasting that forbidden nectar. “You…”

The rest of the words died on my tounge as with the barest rumbling groan of need reverberated between us before Ridge lurched forward, crushing his mouth to mine at long last. This wasn’t some sweet, exploratory caress—no, this was a conquering plunder that stole the very breath from my lungs. He tasted a mix of Wine and Blondies we had during the movies and it has now become my favorite combination.

His huge, callous-roughed palms framed the curve of my jaw to haul me ever nearer while that scorching, infinitely skillful tongue surged past the seam of my lips to lay an incendiary claim. Ridge’s taste was every bit as scorchingly addictive as the rest of him: campfire smoke and aged bourbon, cedar and pure, unleashed masculinity.

I shattered beneath the sheer ferocity of that embrace, whimpering and clutching him to me as liquid heat pooled between my thighs. My fingers delved deep into the glossy, ink-dark tresses at his nape, anchoring Ridge to me with desperate urgency as we traded searing, open-mouthed kisses again and again.

Distantly, I registered the thick cords of muscle rippling beneath my roaming palms as Ridge hauled me into his lap with shocking ease. Those massive arms like steel bands encircled my waist, eliminating the last infinitesimal sliver of space between our scorched bodies while I writhed against the impressive ridge of his arousal.

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