Page 56 of Cold as (N)ice

Stephen groaned but reluctantly picked up his own piece, shoving it into his mouth with the enthusiasm of a kid taking medicine.

Irene let out a soft, watery laugh, and Barrett knew—knew in the marrow of his bones—that no matter what came next, they werehis. His family. His heart. Hisworld.

“Don’t let that phone call ruin our first date.”

“I don’t think anything could… Daddy,” she whispered playfully, but there was an undernote to her tone that spoke volumes. Yeah, he couldn’t exactly leave right now if he wanted to – not with her incredible blue eyes watching him like that and that single word floating around in his mind.

“You watch that, Troll doll,” he whispered breathlessly, giving her a deliberate smile as if to communicate what was going through his head. “We’re in public and have an image to maintain for the team.”

“And when we’re in private?”

“It’s game on… wife.”

16

IRENE

Irene’s mindwas spinning wildly out of control with every thought, emotion, and feeling swirling with him. She never expected to hear from Eric again, much less end up threatened and for Barrett to handle it like he did?

Her knees were wobbling.

No, that was probably the sexiest thing that her husband could have done, and if she thought she was falling for him before – well, she just crashed hard, slamming fully into the ‘I-love-you-mountain’ where she was content to lie forever and a day.

She would never forget his outraged expression on her behalf, and instead of feeling scared or threatened like when Eric had raised a hand to her… she felt safe. Barrett cared, and it showed in so many small ways and to Eric, they were inconveniences to be dealt with in his life.

That was the difference.

Even something as simple as walking into the house, Barrett treated her like a queen. He held the door to the garage open for her and Stephen before following them in. He’d set his keys down, brushed a kiss against her cheek, before gently nudgingStephen toward the living room where his crummy couch sat. The duo had outvoted her, deciding to keep it because it was ‘finally broken in’ – and plopped down together.

One game before bed, remember?

Can I pick the game?

Always, buddy…Barrett motioned before looking over his shoulder at Irene. “I promised him a game, but do you want to do something for yourself? Do you want some coffee? A cup of hot tea? Or maybe soak in a bath?”

And there it was – the simple reminder that things were different between them now, but he was going to let her call the shots.

“I’ll figure out something,” she replied as he smiled at her. Gosh, she loved his smile and the way his dark eyes would shine when he let down his guard. Was this even the same man she’d met a month ago? How had she fallen in love with him so easily and so fast?

Irene left her purse on the counter and moved toward the bedroom, tossing a glance toward Barrett – only to see him watching her once more. His head jerked back to the television suddenly as he exclaimed in disbelief, signing quickly.

Hey! Are you cheating? You can’t kill off your partner in the game buddy, and you just shoved me off the cliff.

You were making that goofy look at Mom again.

I’m gonna do that a lot!

Then you’re going to LOSE a lot, Stephen shot back vehemently causing both to laugh in unison. They shared another knowing look over her son’s dark head. Irene sat back, watching the easy camaraderie between her son and Barrett, warmth unfurling deep in her chest.

Barrett motioned with his controller before speaking, his voice full of challenge. “Let’s give your mom a little time and play another round – for real this time.”

Irene wiggled her fingers at him in a playful wave, catching the way his lips parted, the slight furrow between his brows as his gaze flickered toward her. He muttered something under his breath—something she couldn’t quite make out—but it made his jaw tighten.

Then, as if shaking off whatever thought had momentarily snagged his focus, he let out a nervous chuckle, shifting his attention back to the game. “Would you just go? You’re killing me, Troll doll…”

“I’m going,” she teased, arching a brow at him. “And don’t be too long.”

“I won’t,” Barrett promised hoarsely, his voice rasping with distraction, his focus wholly locked on the screen as his fingers worked frantically over the controller. Beside him, Stephen mirrored his intensity, his tiny tongue sticking out in concentration as he bobbed and weaved, fingers flying. The seven-year-old was clearly dominating, and Barrett, ever the competitive one, was struggling to keep up.

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