Page 37 of Baby Daddy

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice as contorted as my face.

“What does it look like? I’m holding your hand. We’re going to skate around the rink.”

“No, I’m not ready for this!” I protested. “I want to get off the ice.”

“Fine. You can get off by yourself. I’m going for a spin. See ya.”

To my utter horror, he let go of my hand and skirted off—skating backward, no less, the damn showoff, facing me with a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.

“Please, Drake,” I begged.

My begging only made his grin grow bigger. “Please what?”

“Please don’t leave me.” I’m not sure if he heard me because my voice was so shaky and small.

His grin morphed into a wicked smile, and in a few frantic heartbeats, he was again by my side. His fingers entwined with mine once more. How warm his hand felt next to my cold and clammy one. He gave my hand a little squeeze.

“I’m never going to leave you, D-baby.”

My heart jumped. He called me baby. He probably called every girl that, but the way he said it so tenderly made me think I was the first. Following his lead, I began to skate with more confidence. Loving every minute of our togetherness.

For about the next five or so minutes, we circled the rink, Drake holding my hand, me improving with each stroke. Once or twice I turned to look at him, and somehow at those moments, his gaze met mine. No words were spoken. Just silent smiles.

Midway around the rink, my baby called out to me. “Look, Mommy no hands!”

Half elated, half fearful, I craned my head in her direction, losing focus on my strokes. Suddenly, one of my blades caught with Drake’s and my heart lurched in my chest at that horrible sensation that I—we?—were taking a tumble. “Shit,” I heard Drake mumble as the inevitable happened. On my next rapid heartbeat, I was flat on my back on the ice and he was splayed on top of me. We were a breath apart, his heart beating against mine. The warmth of his body caging mine was a sharp contrast to the cold ice beneath me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the heat of his breath warming my cheeks.

“Yeah. You?”

“Totally.”

I gazed at his face. His lips were parted, his eyes smoldering. The heat of his body was melting the ice beneath me. Melting the distance that separated us.

The weight of Drake’s body kept me from moving. “Can you help me up?”

“Not yet. I like being on top of you.”

I like you on top too.“It can’t be that hard—”

“Yeah, it is that hard. Very hard.” He rocked his hips against me.

Gah! It was hard. Very, very hard.

His eyes blazing into mine, he traced my lips with his fingertip and then leaned in closer until I could practically taste his minty breath. I could feel my heart pounding, hear my breathing grow labored. My lips parted, partly because I needed to get oxygen into my lungs and partly because I wanted him to devour them. I wanted him to kiss me so badly I could scream. As his lips were about to touchdown, a little voice caused us both to jolt. Tyson.

Giggling, she skated up to us. “You guys look so funny!”

Yes, we were a tangled pile of arms and legs. But it was more than just the physical. Our emotions were all tangled up too.

“I’m hungry,” said my little girl.

Drake’s eyes burned into mine. “Me too.”

“Me three.” I’d never hungered for a man as much as I did for my new boss, Drake Hanson.

I should have felt relieved that Tyson didn’t catch us kissing, but instead I felt bereft.