Page 77 of Hidden By His Side

“Ramiro,” she breathed.

Their lips were so close. He couldn’t wait for her to bridge the gap anymore. Her whimper from their mouths brushing together set his body on fire, but he kept the pressure light, gentle.

“If something tried to tear you away from me, I wouldn’t let it.” He kissed her again, but this time she returned his kiss. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, trying to keep him as close as she could, a small moan of protest leaving her when he pulled away enough to say, “I need you in my life, Summer. No matter what that looks like, I’ll always need you.”

“I want you to need me.”

Ramiro lifted her in his arms, his hands moving to cup her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him and dove in, her mouth and tongue showing him her own need.

He didn’t nibble and bite like he wanted. He stroked and brushed instead, letting the kiss extend without becoming more. Being this close to her, sharing the same breath, it becameintimate in the way sex with her should have been. He craved more of it, and he took what he craved.

Summer loved kissing. Her lips were soft and demanding at the same time, her tongue giving, her breath minty but also filled with the sweetness that was just her. There was a connection between them, just like she’d said, and he gave himself over to the feeling. Losing himself in her kiss created an ache in his chest.

When they eventually parted enough to pant against each other’s damp lips, he stared into her hooded eyes, nudging her nose with his. “I love you, baby girl. I really do love you.”

She nodded, pressing forward so that their foreheads touched, their lips brushing. “I love you, too.”

He felt the words against his mouth and couldn’t resist kissing her again, focusing on the gentle press, the way their lips clung.

It was the best kiss of his life.

Summer listened through the receiver but didn’t hear anything after her typical office greeting. “Hello?” she said. There was no dial tone or empty air. She heard someone breathing.

“You’ve reached Rodriguez Security,” she repeated, giving it another moment.

The click came, just like it had a few times over the past two weeks. They weren’t consistent, but the empty calls were adding up. Maybe it was Naz? She hadn’t seen him since he had been injured, but that was a few months ago now. Naz was never one to call—he didn’t like to talk—but if it was important, he might. It wouldn’t make sense for him not to stay on the line, though, or to do it repeatedly for two weeks.

Were prank calls still a thing?

She turned to her computer, making sure the windows about adoption were closed before locking the screen. Every time she researched adoption, she got overwhelmed. There were a ton of sites, most with words like ‘angel’ or ‘heart’ or ‘love’ along with ‘adoption.’ She hadn’t yet called any of the numbers. She couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

Some sites had a form to fill out, which seemed cold somehow, like she didn’t even have to talk to someone to give away her baby. There were offers of counseling her through the decision, but would those counselors really be unbiased? Wouldn’t they want her to give up the baby? Of course, she wanted them to talk her into it. It wasn’t like she wanted to be talked out of it.

She stared at today’s lockscreen picture on the computer screen, a night sky with northern lights.

A local adoption agency would be best. She could make an appointment and take Ramiro with her.

No, she couldn’t do that. They’d assume he was responsible for the decision, just like the doctor had when she’d mentioned abortion.

“Summer?”

She flushed at the sound of Ramiro’s voice, her gaze drawn to him. She used to think his fancy suits were the sexiest thing ever. Lately, she preferred the soft sleep pants he wore around their house.

Their house. Her mouth got dry just thinking the words.

Ramiro’s smile spread as he drew closer. “Hmmm, now I want to know what’s on your mind, baby girl.”

She still loved every time he called her that. He dropped the term so often she should be used to it, but a part of her never would be. That part noted each and every use, along with that wide smile and the glint in his eyes.

Ramiro’s hands landed on her chair, swiveling it toward him so he could lean closer. “What has you blushing?”

She studied his broad chest. It looked even broader bare, that chest hair of his dark against his tanned skin.

“You,” she blurted out. “I’m thinking about you, Ramiro.”

“Fuck.” He released the word before capturing her lips in a quick kiss. He’d been doing that a lot. Kissing her. Quick ones and lingering ones and ones that made her want to clutch on to him and beg for more.

He never did more, though. He just kissed her.

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