Page 52 of Wasted On You

“You’re a real cowboy now.” She pointed to his face. “Though that thing doesn’t fit. It’s giving seventies porn.”

He chuckled and stroked what looked to be the beginning of a brand-new handlebar mustache. “Thought I’d try something new.”

“It’s a conversation piece, that’s for sure.” She took a sip of the warm wine, hyper-aware that Mike Paul was a few feet away.

“Nice dress.” Oliver gave her the once-over, then cranked his head and looked around the bar. “I don’t see your man.” He glanced back her way and frowned. “I don’t see the ring either. You got news to share?”

“What?” Her eyes flew to her left hand, and she swore. “Shit, I forgot to put it back on after the mask.”

“Mask?”

“Face thing,” she replied absently. Her hand looked bare without the big rock.

“Huh.”

“What do you mean, huh?”

“Don’t frown, my girl. You’re too beautiful tonight to be doing that.”

“Well, stop insinuating stuff, and I might.”

“Insinuating what stuff?” Mike Paul appeared from nowhere, it seemed, which was silly since the man had been inches away. His hand was still on the baby’s back, and he gently repositioned her as he raised questioning eyebrows.

“Nothing, mate.” Oliver nodded to Ivy. “We’ll chat later, yeah?”

She watched the Brit walk away and slowly turned back to Mike Paul. His blue eyes seemed electrified as if he’d somehow managed to find colored eyedrops. That sparkled like magic. And glistened like stars.

Seriously? That’s where your head is at?

Ivy blinked away the nonsense and tried to focus. But it was damn hard because of the child.

“Is this Cobi’s baby?” she asked.

Mike Paul’s face immediately lit up, and it was something to see. He moved closer, and she made the mistake of taking a deep breath because all that did was fill her lungs with his scent. That woodsy, clean smell that was all him.

Carefully, he leaned toward Ivy and turned a bit so that she could see the baby properly. The little girl had a thick dusting of dark hair, and long lashes that touched the tops of her chubby cheeks as she slumbered in his arms. Her face rested against his chest, and with her little cherub mouth and small pointed nose, she looked like an angel. Ivy didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud.

“She is,” Mike Paul replied, “an angel.”

Ivy touched her little hand. “She’s so small.”

“She’s a good size. Was over eight pounds at birth, and she’s gained another pound or so.” He looked down on his niece with pride. “Cobi did a great job.” When he raised his eyes and met hers, the world stopped spinning. The room faded away. And they were the only ones in the Sundowner.

Seriously. That’s how it felt.

Moments ticked by with Ivy staring up at Mike Paul, wordless and helpless to stop those damn butterflies that were back with a vengeance. Did he feel it, too? The intensity of it all? She knew he wanted more than what she was willing to give. More than she should be thinking about. But with Mike Paul, it had always been on the fly. Not serious. Not permanent.

“Is she here?” Mouth dry, Ivy licked at her bottom lip. “Your sister?”

“She’ll be here soon. Had a massage booked, and trust me, she needed it.”

“It must be hard doing this on her own.”

“She’s a strong woman, and she’s got me.” Mike Paul was back to cradling the baby like it was the most natural thing for him to do.

“I never pictured you like this.” The words slipped from Ivy before she could stop them. Or reword them. Or maybe just not say them.

“You look beautiful.” The words were husky. No longer were his eyes soft and laughing. Nope. The glitter was gone. Replaced by dark, mysterious depths that had her heart flopping all over the place like a fish out of water. Super inconvenient, considering that now that the fog had cleared and the room was in focus, she was aware that more than a few pairs of eyes were turned their way.

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