Page 48 of Wylder Ranch
There’s no way he can’t see my pulse hammering in my throat. Or the stuttering in my chest.
I’m still in bare feet, so Alex towers over me. When I look up at him, his blue eyes scour my face, his lips parting enough that mine do the same. Mirroring. I hear air sucked between his lips. We’re so close I notice flecks of gray in his stubble, ones I don’t remember him having before.
They add an edge of distinction and make him even more handsome.
Sexier.Waysexier. If that was even possible.
But instead of leaning in, we leap apart when a ball of black fluff jumps between us.
Alex takes a big step back. Likehuge. Enough for me to know I didn’t imagine that something almost happened.
“Why don’t you run yourself a bath and have an early night?” he says firmly, though his voice pitches. “I’ll clean up. I have to do a bit more work anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods, clearing his throat, and moves away another step. “I’m sure.”
“All right then. Good night, roomie,” I say. “Don’t forget to wake me if anything happens.”
“I won’t.”
I take my time getting ready for bed. I run a bath using Everly’s lavender oil and think about Alex and that cockblocking cat. Because if it wasn’t for him, Alex wouldhave kissed me. I’m certain of it.
And where would it have stopped? Would I have wanted it to stop? Would Alex?
I remember all too well what Alex’s kisses are like. Too many times my mind’s returned to our first kiss at the bar. If I concentrate hard enough, I can still feel his hands squeezing my ass as his hips grind into me.
Two weeks of being around him and his morning nakedness, or the gentleness with which he plays with Everly, or the way he looks at me whenever I walk into a room, all come to a head.
While I think about it, my hand slips between my legs, my fingers pushing inside, and it doesn’t take long before I give myself the most intense orgasm I’ve had all year.
I fall asleep with a smile on my face and sink into my first full night’s sleep since Everly was born.
CHAPTER 12
Alexander
“Alex, finally, you’ve returned my call.”
God, I already hate this conversation.
“I apologize, Arthur,” I reply. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“So I’ve heard,” he drawls, and I have to stop myself from slamming the phone down.
I don’t know why Lando keeps him around as our family solicitor.
“I don’t have long, so let’s get down to business. The reason I’ve been callingrepeatedly”—he draws out each syllable—“is because we need to secure your estate. The paternity results are indisputable, so we have to discuss protecting your assets.”
“I don’t need protecting.”
“Alex, you have considerable personal wealth. And this girl?—”
“Haven.”
“Sorry?”
“Haven. Notthis girl.”
