Page 93 of L.O.V.E

Leon fussed, so I bounced and hummed while watching the rain fall from dark clouds, and soon the little angel was sound asleep, his weight heavy and fulfilling in my arms.

The door opened and closed behind me. No need to look. Soul deep, I recognized his aura, my body buzzing, coming alive.

“Merry Christmas, Natalie.” Cold fingers brushed the hair from my neck. Warm lips grazed the sensitive spot below my ear, melting me skin to bone, leaving me warm and gooey, and wanting.

“Cole,” left my lips on a soft plea when I should’ve moved away or told him not to touch me that way. He had no right, yet nothing had ever felt so damn right.

He moved around me and stole the infant from my arms, his dimples popping as he took a good look at the boy,and oh, God, my legs turned to wet noodles at the sight. He cradled Leon like he was the most precious gift. When he kissed the little button nose, I almost fainted, the rush of hormones maddening and flooding my body with heat.

Before the moment passed, I slipped my phone out of my bra and snapped a pic.

“What’s with you and the pictures?” he asked, his focus still on Leon. “You don’t post on social media. I checked.”

Tucking my cell away, I admitted, “I take one a day of something that makes me happy.”

His broad shoulders stretched under his black sweater as he laid the baby in the crib, drawing my attention to his slim waist and round, tight ass.

Was there anything more appealing than a man caring for a child?

Dimples. Dimples were better, especially the two aimed my way. Cole turned on the baby monitor, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the hallway. The second the door closed, Cole spun me until my back was to the wall. He captured my face in both palms, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he hit me with a toe-curling kiss.

There was not one single moment when I hesitated, or questioned, or recoiled. When we were joined, there wasn’t room for wariness, there was just us, heart and soul, the rest of the world a canvas for us to paint our future.

Cole pulled away, panting, and adjusted his crotch. I was thankful for the solid wall to hold me steady.

The doorbell rang. Guests were arriving.

“I missed you,” he rasped, devouring me with a heated gaze.

“Me, too,” I whispered.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t,” I said, though my words held no conviction.

“Why?” The bastard smirked. He knew he had me.

So many reasons. I hadn’t shaved. My Jockey undergarments were made for comfort, not sexy time. I hadn’t found a gym since moving to Whisper Springs, and I’d had a torrid affair with the buffalo burgers at my favorite diner. Cole wouldn’t care what I wore. The ten pounds I’d gained wouldn’t matter. But having him and leaving him again would destroy me. I could have given him any excuse. Instead, I whispered, “You know why.”

To which he responded, “Only thing I know is that the world feels right when you’re with me.”

Oh, my heart. I was doomed. “One night,” I conceded, then to shield my battered soul said, “Our last night. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.”

“Cole, please. Stop.”

“Stop what?” He planted his palms on either side of my head, leaning close, brushing his nose over mine. “Stop wanting you? Impossible.” A soft kiss to my cheek. “Stop dreaming about you?” Another kiss, another cheek. “Missing you?” He bit my earlobe, his breaths heavy. “Hearing your voice, seeing your face every night when I close my eyes?” He kissed my neck, my chin, my nose, everywhere but my lips, driving me mad. “Stop feeling ill with regret? ’Cause that will never happen.”

“There you are.” Ellis stood at the top of the stairs, trying and failing to hide his amusement. “I’m ready to crack open that bottle of Blue. Can’t toast without you guys.”

“Blue?” I asked, still clinging to the wall, thankful for a change in conversation.

“Johnnie Walker Blue. A wedding gift from Cole. Been waiting for the right time.” He shrugged. “No better time than now. My best friend is here. Lacey’s best friend is here.” Ellis came between us, hooked a beefy arm around each of our shoulders and guided us back down to the party.

We toasted. We ate a delicious dinner and too much dessert. We said our goodnights hours later, and I followed Cole home.

Cole’s small apartment was dark, the streetlight outside offering enough of a warm glow to navigate the sparsely furnished room.