Page 41 of Reed

I push his hair from off his face. “Buddy, let’s wait and see what Reed wants to do before we make any plans.”

“Ugh.” He groans. “I hope he’s going to be a cool dad for our baby.” My heart squeezes at how Bryce has adapted to the fact he will be a big brother. He’s really enthusiastic, and when I explained to him Reed was the baby’s father, his eyes flared with hope, and it’s not lost on me that the hope wasn’t just for the baby but for him too. I’m praying Reed doesn’t let us down.

“Can you slow the hell down? You’re insane. Oh God, I’m sorry.”

I spin around at the sound of Reed’s frantic bellow, and my eyes widen at the sight. He’s pushing a stroller with the cutest little girl strapped inside, giggling away and practically steamrolling through people as he jogs toward us, trying to keep up with a small dog running in our direction on an extendable lead that should most definitely not be extendable. He looks two seconds short of exploding or abandoning the dog and toddler, and I can’t help but stifle the giggle bursting to get out.

“He’s here!” Bryce declares. “And he has a dog, Mom!”

Bryce rushes toward the dog and falls to his knees to greet him. “Hey, boy. I’m Bryce.”

Reed finally comes to a standstill beside me. He’s pale and panting, a frantic expression dripping off him. “Hey?” I smile coyly.

“Hey.” He steps forward and grabs the back of my neck, yanking me toward him, and slams his lips against mine. When he pulls away from our kiss, he’s breathless and panting. “I missed you,” he says, then his shoulders relax, and my heart does a silly flutter at his words.

The little girl takes this moment to bounce, making the stroller move toward Bryce, and I step away from Reed to bend down and greet her. “Hello, pretty girl. What’s your name, honey?”

“El-Eleanor.”

“Oh wow, that’s such a pretty name.” I glance up at Reed to find him smiling down at me, all signs of previous hysteria gone. “How old is she?”

His eyebrows pull together. “Not old enough to walk, apparently,” he grumbles, making me giggle at his sarcastic tone.

“Reed. What’s your dog’s name?” Bryce asks, and Reed stiffens, then shifts from foot to foot, and I search his face for answers.

“Bubbles!” Eleanor shouts, and the dog raises its head.

Reed grimaces and swallows. “Bubbles. He came with the name.”

Bryce tilts his head from side to side as he surveys Bubbles. “I thought you said he was a bulldog?”

“He is.” Reed nods along.

I choke on a laugh. His face is serious, yet the only thing that resembles a bulldog is the numerous wrinkles in his face. If I had to guess, I’d say he was a pug mixed with multiple other breeds.

“Well, he’s very cute.” I pet Bubbles, and he licks at my hand, and when he rolls over, my eyes widen. “Reed, I thought you said Bubbles was a he?” I point toward Bubbles, who’s clearly not a he.

Reed winces. “The paperwork didn’t say, and I didn’t think to check what was down there. Bubbles should have some privacy.” He lifts his shoulder, then darts his eyes away to deflect from the conversation.

I choke on his explanation, then shake my head as I stand and tug on the sleeve of his T-shirt while I raise up on my tiptoes. “You’re an idiot,” I whisper in his ear with a smile. “A hot one.” As I pat his ripped chest, his Adam’s apple slides slowly down his throat. Our eyes remain locked, an undercurrent ripples between us, and when I slide my eyes down his body, I lock onto the way his cock is tenting in his joggers.

“Fuck,” he growls, then turns to adjust himself, making me bite into my lip at the thought of him being aroused at my simple comment and touch.

I don’t ever remember having this effect on my husband. The sexual tension between Reed and me is something new, exciting, and slightly forbidden, given how I’m pregnant already, and we’re just starting a relationship. A thought hits me square in the gut, and my heart tumbles. Is this a relationship?

“Damn fucking right it is.” My heart skips a beat when I realize I’d voiced my thoughts aloud, and Reed grabs my ponytail, wraps it around his hand, elongating my neck, and his mouth lands on mine. The kiss is forceful and erotic, completely inappropriate for a park, but when his tongue slides over mine, all thoughts of our surroundings disappear.

“Mom! Can we go on the rowing boats?”

Reed stiffens and pulls back from me. His lip twitches as my chest rises from the power of his kiss. “You make me lose my damn mind.” He doesn’t look too sorry about it and clears his throat, then spins to face Bryce and Eleanor.

“Can you row?” he asks Bryce.

“Sure.” He grins back at him, and I grimace at the thought of my son’s attempts at rowing. Maybe I should point out he’s never actually done anything other than the actions to the children’s nursery rhyme.

“Reed. I’m not sure he’s—”

He swats his hand through the air. “He’ll be fine. Won’t you, buddy?”

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