Page 28 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
That’s right, her son that she doesn’t talk about. That she hasn’t even shown off a picture of. Like she’s keeping him a secret. It’s the opposite of what I expect out of a proud momma, which I fully imagine she is.
“Your father has him. And Sophia is helping him out. I haven’t gotten to see him yet.” My hands squeeze her ankles and calves again, and I track the sharp intake of her breath.
“I need a shower.”
“Unless you want me in there with you, I don’t think that’s possible.” It’s the best threat I can think of because I’m sure she can’t stand in there on her own long enough to get clean. And I’m going to hell for every part of me that wants to get in the shower with her, clean her skin, wash her hair, feel her against me.
She stares at me for a long time. I swear she can read every dirty thought that flies through my imagination.
“As long as we keep our underwear on, fine. I need one.”
I nod and slide out from under her legs, heat lingering as I bend to scoop her up again.
“Ryder.” Her admonishing tone leans toward amusement, and I lift my brow in response.
“Miss Avery. If you think you’re able to walk to the bathroom and stand in the shower long enough to get clean, you are sadly mistaken. Save your energy for where it will be the most useful.”
I’m surprised by how easy it is for me to carry her. By how much I enjoy doing so.
Her bathroom is small, but not too crowded. We fit just barely. Luckily, her sink is sturdy enough to hold her weight, but she still leans into me as I pull her oversized shirt up her back. Goosebumps sprout up her back and shoulders when I remove it from her. I stroke my palm against them.
Avery shivers and presses her face into my chest.
She’s got a pale blue sports bra on, razor cut in the back and showing off the muscles of her shoulders. I drift my hand through her hair, taking too much time enjoying this rather than getting her in the shower.
Leaning her back, she slumps against the mirror on the wall, and I turn her hot water on.
“You have to turn it all the way up, no cold water, or it will never heat all the way.” Her eyelids are drooping.
“Yeah, your dad left us instructions. Are you sure you’re still up for this?” I tuck a knuckle under her chin so she can look at me.
“Mmm-hmm. Need to be clean.”
“Okay. I’m going to take your sweats off now. Alright?” I hook my thumbs in the stretchy waist of her pants and pause.
“Who changed me to begin with?”
I let out a soft laugh. “Your father did.”
Avery makes another noise in the back of her throat and nods. “Do I get to take off your clothes?”
A full, hearty laugh falls out of me this time, and I lean in to plant a kiss on her cheek. “You’re not making this very easy on me, beautiful.”
But her hands lift to the top button of my shirt. It takes her a second to undo it, and longer to do the next one down. I suck in a slow, stabilizing breath. My hands close around hers to stop her.
“You’re going to wear yourself out like that.”
Her chuckle graces me with a weak smile. “Take it off, baby.”
Fuck, she’s going to be the death of my restraint. “Are you going to objectify me if I do?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Avery undoes the last button, her fingers brushing my bare skin above my slacks.
Heat tears through me, and my cock stirs again as she strokes a lazy line below my belly button.
Her lip pinches between her teeth, and I shake my head, pulling away. I strip off my shirt and check the water temperature. It’s piping hot now, so I dilute it with the cold until it’s not too hot.
Getting her to her feet leaves her wobbly, but she’s able to step into the tub.
