Page 97 of Stepping Into Tomorrow

“What—”

“I hate that you for one second thought you weren’t good enough. That you took on his burden. That you put everyone else above your needs for so long. But that won’t happen with me. I’m promising you right now, I’m here to take care of you, Eli, and our daughter. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore.”

She swallowed the lump of emotion that had welled up in her throat. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Had Nova been right?

“And you sure as fuck don’t need to ever second-guess how goddamned gorgeous you are. Do you have any idea what you do to me? How many boners I have to hide throughout the day?”

She attempted to shake her head, but his hands held fast. Nash’s forehead tipped against hers, his nose brushing her own. “You’ve got me addicted to your smiles and those little moans you let out when I touch your clit.”

The temperature in the cab of the truck got significantly hotter. Coffee and saltwater filled her nose, along with the unique scent of Nash. His breaths whispered across her lips as he spoke, spinning her up until she was dizzy.

His thumb brushed over her cheek. “The way you scrunch your nose when you’re concentrating. And the way your cheeks blush so red right before you come undone.”

He slid his lips over hers, warm, soft, and torturously slow. She was burning up for him. Clutching his jacket, she slid her tongue against his lips. He sucked on it before biting her lower lip and tugging.

“And let’s not forget the way you waddle around now. It’s the cutest fucking thing.”

She jerked back, smacking him on his chest while glaring. “Cabrón, I do not waddle!”

A loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “You do. It’s adorable.”

She crossed her arms. “See if I ever let you close enough to hear one of my moans you seem to like so much again.”

“Aww, don’t be like that.” Nash pulled her against his chest.

She pushed against him, a pitiful half-attempt at getting away, but her heart wasn’t in it. Nipping her neck playfully, he chuckled and slid his hands over her belly. Her back settled against his front, her legs lying over the truck seat.

Nash pressed a kiss to her temple. The gesture was so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t felt this wanted or cared for by a man since . . . ever. That tiny seed of hope sprouted, growing roots, and inching towards the surface. How could she not wish for more with a man like Nash? Maybe they were exactly what each other needed—at least for now.

44

ISABELLA

Isabella flipped the corn tortilla in the pan and then peeked at her son. Eli bent over the table scribbling away in a notebook. She focused back on the veggies on the counter and began slicing the tomatoes.

“Can I help with anything?” Nash asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Can you grab the molcajete?”

His eyebrow quirked. “The what?”

“The bowl to make guacamole in. It’s like a bigger mortar and pestle.”

“I don’t think I have one of those.”

“I got it from storage. In the cupboard with the mixing bowls.” She pointed across the room.

Nash turned his back, giving her one hell of a view. His plump ass looked ten times better in the dark-wash sweatpants he wore. It was hard as a rock, too—much like his abs. He reached into the cupboard, the snug T-shirt rising with the motion, giving her a glimpse of his lower back and the dark tattoo ink spreading up from his thigh.

She’d always had a thing for guys with tattoos. Even tried to convince Robert to get one. He hadn’t been interested.

She focused back on the corn tortilla, now a little overcooked. Quickly moving it off the pan, she shut the stove off.

“This is cool.” Nash set the bowl by the wooden cutting board.

“You can’t make proper guacamole without one of these.” She smiled and turned to Eli once more. He hadn’t moved from that spot since he’d gotten home from school thirty minutes ago.

“Put me to work,” Nash said.

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