Page 162 of Cold As Ice

“That is… very distracting.”

One of his big bands splayed across my stomach. “You’re distracting, pretty girl.”

“Austin, I smell like Lysol.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He continued licking a path along my collarbone.

“That is…” I sucked in a shaky breath, my fingers curling into the edge of the counter.

“Mommy!” Imogen’s sobs echoed through the apartment and Austin moved away with a pained sigh.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” I said.

“Go check on her. I’ll get the bucket and the cleaning products.”

“Austin, you don’t have—”

“Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

I took off toward my daughter’s bedroom with a hundred thoughts running through my mind. But one stood out against all the rest.

I realized that this was the moment I might have fallen a little bit in love with Austin Hart.

CHAPTER29

AUSTIN

Beingknee-deep in puke wasn’t how I anticipated my first date with Madison and Imogen going down. But once we’d finally gotten Imogen cleaned up again and into yet another fresh set of sheets, Madison became ill.

It was past two in the morning now, and we were both exhausted.

“You know you’ll probably get whatever we have,” Madison murmured as she lay in bed, a cold compress on her forehead.

“How do you feel now?” I asked her.

“Like my stomach went through a meat grinder.”

“Well at least we can mark off seeing each other covered in vomit off our relationship bingo card.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” she groaned, throwing her arm over her face.

“Hey, look at me.” I pried her fingers away wishing like fuck that she never felt the need to hide from me. “I’m here because I want to be.”

“You know you’re going to be Immy’s hero after that move you pulled carrying me into the bathroom.”

“Hey, if it scores me some extra brownie points with her, then it’s worth it.” I brushed the damp hair off her face. “It’s late, I should probably take off.”

“No, don’t go.” Madison grabbed my arm. “I mean… what if I get sick again and Imogen needs me.”

“I can call Jeremiah. Or her grand—”

Madison inhaled a shaky breath. “I know I said I wanted to take it slow and I do. But I’m also feeling really sorry for myself, and you’ve been so amazing, Austin. Stay, please.”

“Fine. Do you have any more spare blankets? I’ll take the couch—”

She shook her head, patting the empty space beside her.

“You’re sick,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

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