Page 62 of Mending Hearts

“You okay?” Tyler whispered in my ear. “You’ve been really quiet.”

“I’m okay.” I glanced up at him. “Thanks for my party. And you got me my favorite drink.” For the first time, I became conscious of the musicplaying in the background, and my stomach swooped low. “And all my favorite songs.”

“Twenty-one surprises for your twenty-first.” He kissed the top of my head.

A familiar welling up of love coursed through me. When the feeling came now, it wasn’t shocking; it was soothing. Hormones. The baby. “You’re going to be a fantastic dad.”

“I’m going to try my hardest.” He squeezed my hip.

I didn’t doubt his intention for a second. He’d done all this for me, someone he didn’t love, so I could only imagine what he’d do for a child, someone he would love more than anyone else.

When I looked around the room again, my smile faded a little at who wasn’t there, who hadn’t bothered to show up.

Our baby had won the daddy lottery. I wished I’d been a winner, too.

Chapter Eighteen

Tyler

Mia’s lips were so soft. She had an addiction to lip gloss, so the suppleness of her lips shouldn’t be a surprise, but every time we kissed like this, long and deep, there was an extra jolt of pleasure that I got to experience her lips. I could kiss her forever.

The regrets might come, but I didn’t intend to take any of these moments for granted. I sank my hands deeper into her hair, drawing her closer. She scooted her butt along the kitchen island, wrapping her legs around me.

Pasha went to bed while the two of us were doing shots. Well, Mia’s glass was filled with sparkling water, but she couldn’t close out her twenty-first without some sort of liquid in a shot glass. So, I drank vodka while she poured herself some of the fancy sparkling water I gave her as part of her twenty-one gifts. After each shot, she pretended to get progressively drunker while I actually got a bit drunk. Our laughter was probably keeping Pasha awake.

When she perched on the island for her last shot and arched one eyebrow before tipping it back, I knew I didn’t want any more vodka. Her twenty-first needed to go out with a bang, not a fizzle. I still owed her a song…or two.

With ease, I lifted her off the island and cupped her ass in both hands. At the stairs, I shifted my grip, so I could grab the railing to navigate down. She laughed against my lips.

“This doesn’t feel safe.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and nibbled on my earlobe.

“It felt safe until you started doing that.”

She laughed against my neck, and when we got to the bottom of the stairs, I slid her along my body.

“I owe you a song,” I murmured.

“You’re going to sing to me?” Her blue-green eyes sparkled when she stared up.

“I am. I’m going to sing,” I kissed her, “until you climax,” I kissed her again, “while crying out my name.” There was nothing better than hearing my name in her strangled cry when she tipped over the edge. I heard it every day, sometimes more than once a day since we started this friends-with-benefits arrangement, and I had every intention of hearing it more than once tonight. I scooped up her lips for a deeper, longer kiss, and I gathered her dress around her waist, bunched in my hands.

“Are you a good singer? Is this a promise or a threat?” Her voice brimmed with amusement.

I tugged her dress over her head, and then our lips met again, my thumb circling her exposed nipple. “I promise something will be explosive, but I doubt my singing is all that great.”

“Well,” Mia said, drawing me closer. “This should be interesting.” Her fingers undid my jeans and pushed them down my hips, so they pooled around my ankles.

I gazed at her for a moment, an ache spreading across my chest at how beautiful she was, how lucky I was. Then I started a low, uneven tune, “Happy Birthday to you.” I nibbled her neck in between words, and I slid my hand along her ass, savoring her soft, smooth skin.

“So far, so good.” She gasped when I eased my hand between her legs.

“Happy Birthday to you.” I grazed her breast with my teeth, and then I picked her up again, her legs locked around my waist.

At the bed, I laid her down, and she clutched the sheets when I parted her legs. I loved that she knew what was coming, already bracing herself for the pleasure. Along her inner thigh, I trailed kisses, teasing her. “Happy Birthday, dear Mini.” I flicked my tongue along her center before pressing a little more firmly, the way she liked. “Happy Birthday to you,” I mumbled against her, feeling her tense with the pleasure.

“Tyler, please,” she moaned.

“Sing it again?” I asked, my tongue circling her clit.

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