Page 69 of Tempt Me Forever

"Yeah. I want to hold him for a while longer."

"We can eventually put him down, you know? He has a bassinet next to the couch."

"Yeah, but why should he go in that when there are two adults here who are willing to carry him all the time?"

He chuckled and led me to the living room. The house was very cute, decorated after my own heart. It was all in neutral colors but looked cozy, not cold.

As I sat down on the cream leather couch, Drake said, "You know what? Since I couldn't take you out on a date, I can cook for you."

I blinked up at him. "What? Now?"

"Yeah, it's dinnertime. Why not?"

I smiled, holding baby Michael tightly to me. He snuggled his head over my cleavage. I could feel his tiny breaths directly on my skin. I loved it. "I won't say no to that."

The kitchen was huge. It was situated in one corner of the room, with a generous island too. Drake went directly there, rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. I followed him, holding Michael in the same position. Drake was right—Michael was not a light sleeper. He wasn't fussing at all. I remembered when Rose was his age, she used to fuss all the time. In the beginning, I always thought she’d wake up any second before realizing that was just how she slept.

Drake looked in the fridge, taking out what seemed like half the contents before closing the door. Setting those items on the counter, he bent down to a cabinet, and I got a good look at his perfect round ass. Two seconds later, he came up with two pans. Moving to the counter, he opened a drawer, taking out a couple of spatulas.

"You're very proficient in your sister's kitchen."

"Yeah. I came by every few days after I moved here and looked after them. Made sure they had plenty of food."

I was so surprised, I took a step backward. "When would you even do that? After work?" Holy shit, I’d seriously misjudged Drake. I knew he'd moved here to help his sister, but I assumed it would be more like moral support or hiring people to do stuff for her.

He looked at me. "Cat got your tongue?" He sounded amused. "Let me guess. You can't picture me doing that."

"I cannowbecause you’re in front of me, cooking. And looking mighty sexy, I must say." I sat down on one of the island chairs. "I just assumed you’d get her takeout or something."

"Sometimes we do, but not often. I suggested once that I could hire someone to take care of the household, but she wasn't very thrilled at the idea. I didn't bring it up again."

"What are you making?" I asked.

"I found chicken and bell peppers and an assortment of vegetables, so I'm going to whip up a stir-fry."

"Oh, I love that."

"I'd offer you a drink, but she doesn't have any alcohol around. I did see orange juice in the fridge.”

"Orange juice is fine," I said.

He immediately poured us two glasses, and we clinked them. He winked at me as he took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He seemed even sexier than usual—something to do with him carrying a baby and cooking.

I held Michael tightly while Drake prepared dinner, and I couldn't help wondering how it would be if this were indeed my life. My man was cooking while I held our son.

Kimberly, this is taking it too far. You've only slept with the guy a couple of times.

Still, I was surprised that I didn't have the usual pang of panic at the thought of having a family.

"Dinner’s ready," Drake said. His voice took me out of my daydreams.

He filled two plates, sliding one in front of me. Then he rolled the bassinet from next to the couch to the counter.

I hesitated, debating if I could eat with one hand or not. Probably, but I risked waking Michael up if I kept leaning forward and backward.

Drake cleared his throat. "Put him down, Kimberly. It's just for a few minutes."

"You're right. I'm ridiculous," I said.

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