Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Xavier hugged her back. “I’ve seen a lot of desperate people in the last few years working this job. I hope he gets the help and support he needs, whatever that may be.”
She murmured her thanks and took off for the recovery room. As Xavier turned to face me, I caught sight of a gaggle of nurses at the nurses’ station, watching our every move.
“I’m afraid my reaction earlier let the cat out of the bag,” I whispered. “We have an audience of your coworkers.”
He glanced at them before looking back at me. And then he stepped in close and wrapped his arms around me. “Damn, Mr. Baptiste. Then I guess we’d better give our audience a show.”
He kissed me so long and so deeply I completely forgot where we were. By the time he finally drew back, my legs were trembling, and my toes had gone numb. He brushed his thumb across my cheek, eyes warm with affection.
“This blush,” he murmured. “It hooked me from the start. I used to tease you in those meetings just to see it bloom.”
The heat in his gaze made me flush even deeper.
Xavier’s mouth curved into a knowing grin. “Turns out there’s a much better way to make you blush.”
For once, I couldn’t find a single argument.
We left the hospital together, stopped by my apartment for a few things, and then drove to his house.
After that night, Xavier Rhodes never spent a single night at my place.
But then again, neither did I.
EPILOGUE
XAVIER - EIGHT YEARS LATER
Instead of grabbing one juice pouch, I yanked the entire box out of the fridge and added it to the tray of snacks I’d put together before walking through the open sliding glass doors to the backyard.
There were six kids between our crew and West and Nico’s bunch, and I’d learned long ago that Hon bought this stuff in bulk for a reason.
“Who’s thirsty?” I called out.
“Me,” Hon said with a grin while the kids ignored me in favor of our neighbor’s puppy, who was barking through the fence. “The sight of you in those swim trunks is making me thirsty as fuck,” he added softly enough to go unnoticed by West, who was standing a few feet away on a work call.
“Freak!” Nico called with a laugh from where he was standing in the shade, rocking our youngest child in his arms. For some reason, the heavily pierced and tatted dude was also the best at getting stubborn babies to sleep.
“Dork,” Hon called back without turning to look at him.
I laughed. “He was correcting your bad language in front of the kids.”
“Don’t care,” Hon said, kissing me gently on the mouth.
I pulled my husband into my arms and kissed him back. “I love you,” I murmured against his lips.
“Daddy, stop!” our four-year-old, Jada, called. “That’s not nice.”
I gritted my teeth and glared at Hon. “This is your fault.”
He let out a snicker. “It’s just a phase.”
I called over to Jada. “Honey, your papa wants me to kiss him, I promise. He especially asked for kisses.”
“Did I, though?” Hon teased softly. I pinched his ass where no one could see it.
Jada walked over and put her chubby fists on her hips over the toy sword that hung from a ribbon belt at her waist over her denim overalls. Her thick braids were long enough now to brush the tops of her dark brown shoulders in the summer sun. “Sometimes boys kiss you when you don’t want them to, and you have to say no!”
She shouted the last word loudly enough to get everyone’s attention, but as soon as her brother realized what she was doing, he rolled his eyes and told everyone to follow him back to the tree fort.
I squatted down and took her sticky hands in mine. “That’s exactly right, baby. But sometimes you might actually want them to kiss you, and then what should you do?”
She narrowed her eyes at me in a defiant-but-cautious expression that shot an arrow straight through my heart. It was the same expression she’d had when Hon had first introduced us after a child welfare case in town had gone sideways. She’d only been two years old and Ja’mari five. We’d taken them in for a temporary emergency foster placement but had quickly realized how well we worked as a family.
Now, the two of them, along with another biological sister who’d come along unexpectedly last year, were ours forever. As I told anyone who would listen, it was an unexpected dream come true. Neither Hon nor I had felt like we were dad material. Our jobs were demanding, and our commitment to each other took up all the rest of our time.
But now I couldn’t imagine what life would be like without our kids.
“Punch him,” she muttered.
Hon coughed loudly to cover up his laugh.