Page 29 of Cold Foot Croc

He searched her eyes, and hated the sadness he found there. What had she been through?

He scooted a little closer and slid his hands farther into her coat, all the way around to her lower back, and began to massage gently there. He knew she was aching. She rolled her eyes closed, exhaled a breath, and relaxed against his touch.

“You won’t let him be like his dad. He will be like you.”

“I’m not much better,” she whispered. “You know what I’ve done. Dylan told me you found out.”

“Did Harold Price deserve it?”

She nodded. “He deserved worse.”

“Then good job.”

“You shouldn’t say that. I killed a man.”

“A bad man. And then you went to jail, and then you got pregnant by a bad man in there, and now you are out. And now you have a chance to set all that right by raising a good man. You’re going to put a good man in the world. I know you will.”

Her eyes rimmed with tears, and she ducked her gaze. “Yeah?” she said thickly. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Yeah, you got the most special job in the universe. You get to be a mom.”

Her face crumpled, and oh fuck, his heart was pounding as she leaned forward and buried her face against his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered, but he had no clue what she was thanking him for.

“You’re the one who came all the way out here, all pregnant and sore, and you were bent over an open fire cooking me breakfast. I should be thanking you.”

And then he felt it. She pressed her full lips to the side of his neck, and she laid a kiss right there. He heard the sweet smack of it. Before he could change his mind, he eased back and pressed his lips to hers.

He didn’t even know what the hell he was doing. It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman, but she sure made it easy on him.

Her lips softened, and she slid her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in closer, like she wanted this. He pulled one of his hands from her back and cupped the side of her neck as he kissed her. He didn’t remember ever having a woman melt in his hands before, but she damn-near went boneless on him. He smiled into the kiss as he kept her upright.

“You’re burning the steaks,” Dylan groused.

Garret flinched out of the kiss, startled. Dylan was standing at the mouth of the tent, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up in all directions like he’d jammed a fork in a light socket, which that dumbass did when he was six years old specifically because Mom told him not to, and he’d looked similar to this disheveled state right here.

“Get a room,” Dylan grumbled as he headed for the cast-iron pan.

When Garret looked back to Raynah, her cheeks were a pretty pink color, but she didn’t look like she was blushing from embarrassment. She looked…happy.

Her pupils were a little blown, and she was blinking pretty slowly, but that didn’t bother him. He was glad his kiss had some kind of effect on her.

Kissing her was awesome. He did it again, just a quick one, before he stood and started helping Dylan divide their breakfast onto three paper plates.

She’d come all the way up here to be here for him, and she did not understand how much that meant to a guy like him. Effort was everything. She was full-on pregnant and sore from it, and probably exhausted, but she was still here with smiles, and being all sexy, and sharing her moving belly with him, and damn, he reallyreallyliked this woman.

He made sure she had her plate first, before he dragged up a log and sat beside her. Garret could barely keep his eyes off her. He wanted to touch her belly again and see if he could feel little Billy move some more. That probably wasn’t the baby’s name, but that’s what he was going to call him until she picked one. Billy was a tough-guy name. He’d always liked it if he ever had a little boy. Billy the Jackal. So cool. He bet he was going to be a tough little kid. His momma was tough. Tough mommas probably made tough kiddos. He really wanted to feel her belly again.

“You’re staring,” she observed.

He finished chewing his bite before he spoke. “Is he moving?”

“Not right now. He must be tired after the acrobatics show he put on for you. He usually moves a lot if I have orange juice.”

“Shit. I mean shoot. We didn’t bring orange juice.”

She giggled. “It’s okay. He’s probably resting. I’m okay with him taking a nap. There isn’t much room to move around, and the baby has been hurting my back lately.”

“Oh, sorry, buddy,” he told her belly. “No OJ for you. Gotta go easy on your momma.”

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