Baited. Hook. Line. And. Motherf.u.c.king. Sinker.
As the doctor went to answer, Dillon went to exit the room. Gavin chuckled, proud he’d hit his target dead on. Said target was giving him the reaction he knew he’d get. “Wait, Dillon, don’t you want to hear the answer? I mean, the baby is just as much your business as it is mine. Let’s not forget, no private bulls.h.i.+t.”
The doctor may have attempted to answer Gavin’s question, but Dillon didn’t. Nope. His answer was the thundering door slamming behind his arrogant a.s.s. Another chuckle, a few unanswered questions, and Emily emerging from the restroom shortly after, had Gavin feeling the doctor’s appointment went better than expected.
By the time Emily and Gavin made their way back to his building and into the elevator, Emily was convinced her boyfriend had been possessed by a s.e.x demon. Between the hungry looks during the drive home and his promises of exquisite pleasure to come, she believed he’d gone temporarily insane.
Leaning against the elevator wall, she indulged in his deep, pa.s.sionate kiss as they rode up to his floor. Emily tilted her neck, allowing Gavin’s soft mouth to wors.h.i.+p her flesh. “And who do I have to thank for this sudden change in s.e.xual wanting? I’d like to send them a gift. Do you have an address?”
Gavin answered by closing his lips over Emily’s, caressing her tongue with needy little licks as his hands roamed her body. The elevator doors slid open, and with their arms wrapped around one another, Gavin walked her backward down the hall to his unit. Back pressed against his door, she let out a heated breath as he scrambled, fis.h.i.+ng his keys from his pocket. His light stubble tickled her jaw as he opened the door. Walking her backward into the penthouse, his lips continued their a.s.sault on hers. Emily chucked her purse onto the sofa, circled her arms around Gavin’s neck, and giggled as he scooped her up. With her legs dangling over his forearm, she kissed him harder, her body throbbing from head to toe in antic.i.p.ation.
“So are you going to answer me?” she breathed as he laid her on the ma.s.sive California king, slipping off her heels. “Who do I owe thanks to?”
Grinning, Gavin slowly pulled her skirt down and tossed it on the floor. Blue eyes locked on hers, he bit his luscious lip, his finger tracing just below her belly b.u.t.ton. “The only thing you need to know, Miss Cooper, is Dillon is very, and I mean very, aware of every single thing I’m about to do to your beautiful body.”
Without another question, Emily spent the rest of the afternoon indulging in the mind blowing things Dillon apparently knew were going to happen to her.
“Is the blindfold really necessary?” Emily asked as Gavin led her down the hall. “I get it’s a surprise, but your excitement is actually scaring me. Did you paint it black?”
“Have you no faith in my decorating skills?” Gavin asked with a chuckle. Opening the door to the nursery, he popped a smile as he took one last look at the finished room. He couldn’t call it his decorating skills since a team of highly paid interior designers did all the work. Nevertheless, he was happy with the direction he’d given them over the last month since finding out the baby was a boy. “And yes, the blindfold is needed. But I’ll strike up a deal with you. As my torturous punishment, I’ll allow you to reuse it on me later tonight.”
Emily giggled and went to rip off the blindfold, but Gavin grabbed her wrists. Lips turned down in a pout, she sighed. “You get off on being a wisea.s.s. I swear you were placed in my world for that very reason.”
“Mmm, I never thought of it like that.” Gavin buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice seductively low. “Placed on this earth to wisea.s.s your world up.”
“Gavin Christopher Blake, if you don’t let me take off this blindfold, I’m going to do things to your a.s.s no man would appreciate. Got it?”
Gavin let out a deep, throaty laugh, his eyes wide. “You’re turning me on.”
“Oh my G.o.d. You seriously—”
“I know. Have lost my mind or seriously have gone crazy.” Gavin nibbled her neck. “Which is it, sweets?”
“Both.”
“Good answer.” He peeled the blindfold from her eyes. “Tell me. Did I lose my mind on this?”
The breath left Emily’s lungs as her eyes swept over the nursery. True to his love of the team, Gavin had turned the once bare room into a Yankees paradise. Not quite overkill, it was tastefully done and could easily thrive well into her son’s teenage years. Emily’s gaze fell upon a single navy blue wall with ma.s.sive white built-in shelving units. Each held an array of gla.s.s-encased signed baseb.a.l.l.s, trading cards, and hats. She took in everything from autographed jerseys hanging on cast-iron Yankees emblem hooks, to a real digital scoreboard, to a row of Yankees metal lockers. One wall showcased a floor-to-ceiling black and white scene of the field right out of the early Yankees days. “The House Ruth Built” graced the top of the mural. She swore it was a real photo. Just beyond one of the windows—swathed in long, navy blue drapes—was a soft, brown leather chair with fluffy baseball pillows. A New York City backdrop circular rug covered a good portion of the s.p.a.ce. To top it off, he had actual stadium seats in the room. Emily was struck speechless.
“Did I lose my mind?” Gavin whispered, his chin on Emily’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her growing stomach, wis.h.i.+ng he could see her face. “Or am I just crazy?”
Falling into the gravity of everything that made Gavin who he was, Emily faced him, her world spinning on an axis of love he provided. So many stolen moments and little things he’d said and done pa.s.sed through her mind as she stared into his smiling blue eyes. Those thieving blue eyes that’d s.n.a.t.c.hed her breath, heart, and soul the second she saw him. So many words, spoken and unspoken, echoed through her ears. This man, her best friend and lover, who didn’t know if the child she was carrying was his, kept the promise he’d made not so long ago. He already loved her baby, whether or not it was his, because it was part of her. G.o.d willing, part of him. Bringing her hands to his dimpled cheeks, she stared at him a beat longer before pus.h.i.+ng up on her tiptoes. As her lips melted against his, she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. Why, out of every woman in the world, did this certified wisea.s.s pick her?