Page 47 of Irresistibly Risky

I move in behind her, my chest to her back. She’s shaking, and I can’t stop myself from wrapping my good arm around her waist and holding her against me. My nose hits the top of her head, right above her ponytail, and I breathe her in. “Whether you’re living here or not, I wanted him to have all this. This will be his room. That will be his playroom. You will always have a room to stay here, too. I want this to be his home too, even if you do leave when the season is over.”

She nods and I hear her clearing her throat.

“Are you still with me?”

Another nod, and when she reaches up to her face, I know she’s not speaking because she’s crying.

“I can’t do much to help you right now with him, but I want to watch how you do everything, so when I’m all healed up, I can.”

“Stop,” she croaks. “Please, stop.”

I don’t know the story yet, but I can tell Joe Cardone did a real number on her. “I overwhelmed you. I know I did. So let’s go give him dinner, okay? You don’t have to talk to me.”

She nods and presses her head into my good side and then wipes her face once more, under each eye, and then she’s unsnapping Mason from his stroller and lifting him into her arms. Without hesitation, I lean in and plant a kiss on his cheek, wrapping my good arm back around her waist as I lean into them.

“Hey, big guy. Are you hungry for…?” I raise a questioning brow at Wynter.

“Mashed peas with turkey, and pears with apricots.”

“I just threw up in my mouth, but I’m sure he’ll love it.”

She emits a wet laugh, bouncing him lightly. “It’s his favorite dinner. It’s why I packed it for tonight. He’s always liked baby food.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s all he’s ever known.” Gently, I rock the three of us from side to side. “What if you mix it up a bit? Try new things? Explore new options?”

She squints at me. “Are we talking about Mason’s diet or something else?”

I keep my voice light as I say, “I’m simply suggesting that if you take the risk and try something new—something you’ve always believed you dislike—you might discover it’s actually your favorite thing.”

“Doubtful. I still dislike football players, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

I smile as I press my lips to her cheek and murmur by her ear. “I’ll change your mind. You won’t even see it coming.”

13

I feel like this is the time when I’m supposed to level up my offense. Or is it defense? Is that even the correct word in this situation? Whatever. From the moment I walked in this door and saw him with his bum arm and then all the work he had done to his apartment today for Mason and for me, I’m having an impossible time reminding myself why I shouldn’t strip naked and climb on top of his dick to see if it finally understands the assignment.

Only… he legit had surgery this morning.

A surgery I performed on him.

And now I’m sleeping in his house. In a room as far away from his as physically possible. With my son in his own nursery somewhere in between that.

It hasn’t been a full week, and yet my entire world lives, breathes, and speaks the name Asher Reyes.

Asher watches me feed Mason, sits in the corner while I give him a bath, and then kisses him goodnight when I go to put him down. There are cameras in the corners of both the playroom and his bedroom. Cameras I didn’t notice until this very minute.

“Do you have cameras like this in my bedroom?” It’s meant to be a tease. A joke. But the idea of him having a camera in my bedroom and watching me in there—other than being sick and horrifically invasive—suddenly makes my skin hot.

He’s winding down on his meds, dark purple circles ring his orbs, and with that, he gives me a withering stare as if I were serious. “Of course not. I meant to give you the username and password earlier, but I forgot.”

I turn back to Mason and make sure he’s comfortable in his new crib, with his new nightlight casting multicolored zoo creatures on the pale gray walls. I kiss him goodnight, but Asher can’t even drag himself away from the wall to do it. He’s in pain and feeling the after-effects of the anesthesia, and seriously needs some sleep.

I walk over to him and take his good hand. “Come with me.”

“I know how to put myself to bed, Doctor.”

Oh, he’s a grump, isn’t he?

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