Page 19 of Tru Blue
Gemma crouched before her and waved through the glass. Kennedy twisted from side to side. Her chin tilted up as Truman’s big, shirtless—breathe, breathe, breathe—body appeared behind her. Gemma rose slowly, taking in every inch as she went. Dark blue sleeping pants hung dangerously low on his hips, beneath impossibly ripped and insanely lickable abs. Her tongue swept over her lips as she rose higher, her eyes playing over the brawny arm cradling Lincoln, ribbons of blue ink decorating his broad chest, sinking between thickly muscled pecs, over powerful shoulders, and up the right side of his neck. A knock on the glass above her head brought her eyes up to his again, and she felt her cheeks flame at his grin. His hair was tousled, his eyes sleepy and…curious? She really liked that sleepy look on him. It made him look like a gentle giant. His grin turned to a straight line as he tugged the door open. Uh-oh. She might have misconstrued curiosity for annoyed.
“Do you gawk and stalk all mildly attractive men?”
Kennedy wrapped her arms around his thigh, tugging his pants down lower. That’s it, Kennedy, tug a little harder.
Oh, that was bad! She shouldn’t want him to lose his drawers in front of the kids. Wow, who knew muscles had the ability to lower her IQ?
Thinking much faster than she believed herself capable with all the lust swirling through her, she said, “I’m not stalking. You need a shave, which means you need a shower, which is nearly impossible with two little ones underfoot. I came to help.”
He rested his hand on Kennedy’s cheek, and that tender touch made Gemma’s heart open a little more to the guarded man.
“You don’t listen very well, do you? I thought I said I didn’t need help.” He stepped to the side, a small smile forming on his lips.
“You did, but your eyes told me something different.” She stepped into the apartment feeling a little victorious, and she noticed blankets and pillows on the couch, empty bottles on the counter, and the Parenting magazine lying open on the floor beside the couch. The bag she’d brought yesterday was still on the end table.
“Hard morning?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I know when night ended and morning began.” He stifled a yawn. “Lincoln got a few shots yesterday and he’s been running a low fever. I called the doctor and she said it’s a normal reaction. I gave him medicine already to bring down his fever, and he seems okay now, but she said he’ll probably need it again in four hours.”
“Aw, poor little guy. You took them to the doctor already?” She set the to-go cups on the kitchen counter.
“She came here yesterday as a favor for my buddy.”
“That was nice of her. I didn’t know doctors made house calls anymore.” Gemma reached for the baby. “Give me Linc, and you can down that coffee and grab a shower—and a shave.”
He ran his eyes over her scoop-neck shirt and skinny jeans. “No princess dress today?”
“I save them for special occasions, like being told to leave.”
He kissed Lincoln’s head and handed him to her, his gaze falling to her mouth and lingering there so long her pulse quickened. When his eyes slid slowly down the length of her body, she felt the heat of it searing through her clothes.
“For what it’s worth,” he said in a low, seductive voice, “I like that outfit just as much as I liked the dress.” He lifted Kennedy into his arms and kissed her cheek.
“Good to know. Just don’t tell me to leave.”
The edge of his mouth quirked up and he turned Kennedy’s face toward him. “Will you be okay with Gemma for a few minutes while I shower, princess?”
Kennedy looked at Gemma.
“We’ll be fine,” Gemma assured him, loving the way he worried over them. “It’s good for her to have some girl time. Besides, I have some goodies for her.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, strong coffee, because that’s what every child needs. What do you take me for? Everyone knows kids like Frappuccinos, not coffee.”
Concern washed over his handsome face, and his hand splayed over Kennedy’s back, like a lion protecting his cubs. Maybe he had a little Neanderthal in him after all. She liked that a whole lot.
