Page 109 of Sweet Escape
Wilder’s hands cover my eyes as he guides me through the doorway to the nursery. It took a full two weeks, but it’s finally finished, and I’m getting my first look as soon as this infuriating man releases me. He’s kept me locked out of the room throughout the entire process, and the anticipation has been excruciating.
The room still smells faintly of paint mixed with something floral. Instead of hardwood, there’s something plush beneath my feet.
“Ready?” His breath fans over my cheek as he speaks.
Goose bumps erupt along my skin at his unexpected proximity.“Y-yes.”
“Nervous?”
“Wilder…” I grit out his name through clenched teeth, vowing to inflict my own form of torture on this man someday very soon.
His hands drop, and he takes a step back, the floor creaking with the movement. “Ok. You can open your eyes now.”
I blink a few times, my vision adjusting to the sudden brightness. When the room comes into focus, I suck in a sharp breath, my hands flying up to cover my mouth. Wilder has positioned me in front of a light wood crib framed by what can only be a hand-painted mural on the upper portion of the wall. While the bottom half is covered with a light green wainscotting, the top is painted in muted florals, the most prominent of which are yellow and white daisies. The meaning isn’t lost on me, and my heart leaps in my chest.
In the corner of the room sits his mother’s rocking chair, a near-perfect match to the crib, and there’s a small crochet daisy blanket draped over the back.
“Wilder is that…” The words come out strangled as I fight against the emotions threatening to spill over.
“From your mom? Yeah.”
I do a slow spin, taking in the rest of the details: a matching dresser with a changing pad, wall shelves with a collection of board books and natural wood toys, and the tiny pink cowboy boots I bought all those months ago. There’s a small pink plush bunny, its ear embroidered with the words ‘little sister,’ and I’m certain the matching ‘big sister’ bunny already lives in Emmy’s room.
“It’s… perfect.”
“She’sperfect,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.“I know this was important to you, but none of it truly matters in the end.”
I sigh, leaning my head back against his chest. “I know it seems silly, but I feel better now that she has a permanent place here.”
I think maybe I was waiting for it to feel likeIhave a place here, and now I do—right over there, in the far corner of the room, in that beautiful antique rocking chair with Gracie in my arms. The vision soothes me, and I spin in Wilder’s hold, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. “Thank you.”
Wilder’s beard scratches against my neck as he buries his face there and inhales. His arms tighten around my waist, as much as they can with my belly between us, as he starts to rock us back and forth.
“What are you doing?”I ask.
“This is called dancing,” he says. “I know I'm not very good at it, but I thought that was obvious.”
“Very funny, Big Guy. Last time I checked, dancing requires music.”
“Hmm. Is that so?” Moments pass, our bodies swaying in the silence, then his gruff voice vibrates through me as he murmurs the lyrics to a popular country song. It’s beautiful, soft like velvet, with the rough edge of someone who’s known deep love and intense heartache. They’re the lyrics of a man desperate for the woman he loves to stay with him, promising to do anything to keep her. For one achingly perfect moment, I let myself believe them.
Chapter 30
Mercy
?Til There’s Nothing Left - Cam
Wilder
Olivia sauntersinto the bedroom wearing nothing but my shirt, secured by a single button between her breasts. Her belly peeks out of the opening, and her blonde waves cascade down her back. Her thick thighs are on full display, and there’s something about the gleam in her eyes that has me bracing for impact.
“What are you doing, honey?”
“Hopefully seducing you.” She saunters over to where I’m perched on the foot of the bed. She steps between my spread thighs and slides her arms around my neck, straddling my lap. With her belly between us, I’m forced to lean back on my hands.
“By all means, Miss Sullivan, seduce away.”
“Mmm… I like the sound of that.” Her fingers find the hem of my T-shirt, and I sit up long enough for her to pull it over my head. Licking her lips, her soft hands glide down my torso, nails rakinggently over my skin. Fucking hell, the view is incredible.
