Page 35 of Baby Daddy

“Drake, be careful with her. Don’t let go of her. And don’t go too fast.”

Drake smirked at me dismissively. “Stop worrying. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll be ready for the Olympics.”

Pompous jerk. I let it go as they, hand in hand, began to slowly circle the rink. In no time, my anxiety dissipated, giving way to pure joy.

Still clutching Drake’s hand, my baby took what looked like baby steps around the circumference of the rink. She looked so tiny next to his broad six-foot-two frame. The pleasure I got from seeing the mixture of excitement, happiness, and accomplishment on her face couldn’t be measured. I could tell that Drake was enjoying every minute instructing her. They looked so cute together, my big built boss and my fragile little baby, both wearing jeans, wooly sweaters, and knit beanies. Standing at the edge of the rink, I pulled out my cell phone and began taking photos and videos.

As they progressed, Ty’s steps grew more confident and fluid, and her speed picked up a bit.

“Hi, Mommy!” she hollered, waving her free hand, as she and Drake passed by me. “Look at me skate!”

“You’re doing such a great job, baby girl!” I shouted back with a big smile.

“What about me, Mommy?” mock-shouted Drake.

“Not nearly as well as Tyson.”

He stuck his tongue out at me like a pouty three-year-old. I found it incredibly sexy, and the memory of it gliding in my mouth last night sent a heat wave through me despite the chill in the air. Head to toe tingles zapped me as I imagined what that deft tongue was capable of. A shiver of lust skittered down my spine.

Halfway through their next spin around the rink, Drake let go of Tyson’s hand. To my great surprise and delight, she was able to manage all by herself. Thank goodness, Drake stayed close to her in case she took a spill. But she didn’t. I watched as Drake led her over to the side of the rink. While she stood against the railing, he gave her a lesson in stroking. Holding up my phone, I shot a video while he made Tyson imitate his smooth moves. With her little arms outstretched, she pushed off from the wall and, to my amazement, skated to him. My heart melted when he took her into his arms and lifted her high in the air to celebrate her small victory. My little skater, full of laughter, was a natural and her instant connection to Drake undeniable. A pang of guilt knifed through me. She’d been deprived of a father. A daddy to love and who could love her back. Maybe having only me wasn’t enough.

With Tyson skating on her own close to the railing and Drake by her side, the twosome skated over to me.

“Mommy, skating is SO much fun! You should try it!”

“She’s right,” Drake chimed in.

“I’m afraid I’ll fall.”

“But, Mommy, you have a big butt so it won’t hurt.”

Mortification raced through me. I felt myself turning as red as a beet. Kids say the darndest things, right? Wrong! My sassy almost six-year-old had no filter.

Drake broke out into hysterical laughter.

I clenched my fists. I wanted to punch him. “It’s not funny.”

“Dee, you have a great butt. Now, get your ass on the ice.”

“C’mon, Mommy,” Ty pleaded. “Please, pretty please with a cherry on top.”

Drake’s laughter let up. “Mighty, why don’t you take a spin around the rink? You’re ready to skate all by yourself. Stay close to the railing and hold on to it if you have to.”

“Yay!” On my next breath, she took off. My breath caught in my throat, but she seemed to be managing just fine.

Drake stayed behind. All that separated us was the waist-high railing. He leaned into me. His sparkling blue eyes flickered with a mixture of determination and mischief while his warm breath heated my cheeks. His hands tugged playfully at the ends of my wool plaid scarf.

“Aren’t you going to skate with Tyson?”

He glanced in her direction. She was already halfway around the rink. “She’s doing just fine by herself. She’s a total natural. She reminds me of myself at that age. I took, like her, to the ice like a penguin.”

“But what if she falls?”

He shrugged. “She’ll get up.” He tugged again at my scarf. “C’mon, Dee, get your big beautiful butt on the ice.”

“No way.”

“That does it.”

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