When I realized I was rationalizing why I shouldn't stop, I flushed. The God's honest truth was I liked taking care of him this way. I liked the bond, and I loved this baby.
Down the hall, the bathroom door opened. I sucked in a breath. Oh, crappity, crap, crap. Footsteps in the hall urged me to grab a nearby blanket and toss it over my shoulder, completely covering which baby I was feeding. Do, to-do, to-do, went the whistling in my head, nothing going on here.
Pick appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel. My mouth dried up and I forgot what I was trying to hide from him.
He jerked to a halt when he saw me. "Oh. You're awake."
I was a too busy staring to answer him. Yeah, I was definitely awake now.
He motioned toward his dresser. "I forgot to bring my clothes into the bathroom with me."
When he entered and crossed the room to pull open the top drawer, I waved him on. "Trust me, I don't mind." Really.
"In that case." He tossed me a wink over his shoulder and dropped the towel.
My mouth fell open. Oh, sweet mercy. Naked Pick Ryan looked amazing from the back. His tush was tight and sculpted to perfection, and his spine muscles looked all sleek and shiny, wet from the shower. My gaze swept up and down, then up and down again. He really did only tattoo his arms and neck, didn't he? Oh, and his heart. I remembered seeing a peek of that one at Forbidden during the auction, but I hadn't been close enough to see what had been special enough to place it directly over his heart.
I forgot all about tattoos when he bent to pull on a pair of boxers. I caught the barest glimpse of a shadow from his junk hanging down in the front and had to press my legs together tight. He didn't turn around until he had on a pair of jeans and was zipping up the fly.
"Hey, you got a little drool." He wiped the corner of his own mouth. "Right there."
I begin to lift my fingers to wipe up the mess before I realized he was teasing. Eyes narrowing, I muttered, "Shut up," and I stuck my tongue out at him. Then I laughed at my own silliness. As my gaze caught on the single tattoo over his heart, I couldn't stand the curiosity. "You never did tell me what that one meant," I said, hitching my chin toward it.
He froze, with one of those hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expressions. Then he briefly skated his fingers over it as if he wanted to hide it. Shrugging, he yanked on a white undershirt. "Just a list of names," he said and grabbed a fresh work shirt from his closet before buttoning it up.
Holy crap, he was so hiding something. I couldn't let this drop. "I caught a glimpse of it at the club on auction night. But I've never gotten close enough to see the details. Whose names are on it?"
Ha! A direct question. Let's see him evade this answer.
"Just . . . " He focused his attention on straightening non-existent wrinkles on his shirt. "Names."
I wasn't deterred. "Of important people?"
" Mm-hmm."
"Is this in any way related to the reason why my birthday is the passcode to your cell phone? Because, you know, you refused to talk about that too."
He lifted his face to frown at me. But he said absolutely nothing.
"Fine." I flung out a hand. "Go ahead and shut me out. Again." I lifted my chin in an airy, pretentious way. "It's fine. I mean, I thought we were becoming friends and talked about everything. But don't worry. I get it. You know the worst possible thing there is to know about me, but I don't need to know anything about you at all."
His shoulders deflated and his expression turned bleak. "Don't be that way, Tink. I-"
"I'm kidding!" I broke in with a roll of my eyes and forced laugh.
Okay, fine. It did twinge a little that he didn't feel comfortable enough to share something with me, but seriously-
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I understand. I really do. And I'm sorry for teasing you about it. I didn't mean to make you take me so seriously."
He drew out what I hoped was a relieved breath, but something on his face told me he wasn't quite reassured. I opened my mouth to go on and keep apologizing for making him feel guilty when a rustling from the crib caught our attention.
Pick was quick to check it out. "I'll get him," he offered, only to stop short when he looked down at the baby inside. He hesitantly drew Skylar from the bed and turned to me. When his gaze dropped and fixated on the lump where Julian was still having his breakfast, I knew I'd been caught.
"Eva . . . " he said slowly. "Are you . . . feeding Julian?"
"Um . . . " The guilt on my face totally gave me away.
His eyes shot open wide. "Holy shit."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I immediately pulled Julian away from my chest and covered myself. "I was half asleep and just so used to taking care of Skylar this way. I didn't realize what I was doing until he was already latched on . . . " I faltered when Pick's eyes widened at that description. "But he took to it so naturally and seemed happy, I didn't want to disturb him."
He seemed kind of fussy now, though, since I'd interrupted him mid-meal. But I swung him over my shoulder and began to pat his back quickly and nervously. My gaze sought Pick, trying to gauge his reaction, but he looked more surprised than anything.
"Oh, God. You think I'm gross and disgusting, don't you?"
"I think . . . " He shook his head as if he had no idea what he thought. Then he uttered, "I think you're feeding my kid from your . . . your . . . "
"It's supposed to be much more nutritious this way." I motioned vaguely at my boobs. "This milk is packed with disease-fighting . . . stuff, you know, to help protect him. I read all about. He'd get a much healthier, safer diet from me. Besides, Skylar never eats enough. I usually have to pump out the extra to keep my boobs from hurting. And why the heck are you looking at me like that?"
He grinned, and I knew everything would be okay. "Sorry, I just . . . " He shook his head. "This has to be the hottest conversation I've ever had with you. Please . . . continue talking about your breasts."
"Oh my God." I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. "Pick, this is serious. Do you have a problem with what I did, or not?"
He jiggled Skylar in his arms, swaying her back and forth to keep her happy. "Why would I have a problem with it? You just listed a million reasons why it's better for him."
"Because . . . I don't know. He's not mine. Surely someone would have a problem with it . . . for some reason."
"Well, they're not here in this room, so fuck them."
"But . . . " I closed my eyes and held Julian just a little bit tighter. "What if . . . what if attachment issues come from this . . . or something?" Like they already had.
Pick sat on the edge of the mattress next to my hip. "Tink, you are the best thing that's ever happened to that kid. I don't care if he only has one day left with you or twenty, you just keep doing whatever you're doing until you have to go, and I will forever worship the ground you walk on. Because a little slice of heaven is better than none at all. I will gladly deal with attachment issues if they crop up. Got it?"
A smile lit my face. "Got it."
But, wow, this man was too good to be true. He always knew the exact right thing to say to make me feel better. Was it any wonder I'd been able to sleep next to him all night without a single qualm?
I'd never been able to fall asleep next to any guy; too many lingering childhood traumas prevented it. But there had been no reservations about urging Pick to crawl into bed with me. Sure, I could argue that I'd been half-asleep and too tired to care. But honestly, I just felt that completely and utterly safe with him. I felt protected, and I knew if he ever touched me, it'd be because I wanted it, and I he'd make sure I enjoyed it.
"Here, trade me," I told him, holding up Julian as Skylar began to complain. "She's gotta be hungry too."
He readily complied, setting my daughter in my free arm. After we switched off, and I tucked Skylar under my nursing blanket, Pick narrowed his eyes at a happy, babbling Julian.
"Oh, don't you smile at me with that milky grin, you lucky shit. There's no need to rub in it. I know where that mouth's been."
"Pick!" I rolled my eyes.
He sent me an innocent glance. "What? He's clearly rubbing it in."
"You are such a guy."
"Hell, yeah, I'm a guy. What'd you expect me to be?"
His smile was slow and seductive, which reminded me I'd just seen his taut naked tushy. I didn't know how I was going to handle living with him for another week and half. Keeping my hands off him while I slept next to him every night was already a challenge, but now that I'd seen what the goods looked like under his clothes, the challenge had just ramped itself up into mission impossible.