Joy buzzed from his tiny body.
My chest squeezed.
“Hi, Everett,” I murmured without any breath. I wondered if it made any sound.
“Puppy!” His index finger flexed and extended a hundred times.
“Yes, this is my sweet boy, Milo.” I ran my hand over Milo’s head. He dropped down onto his butt and crawled over and pressed his face into the fur of Milo’s neck.
Milo’s tail wagged like crazy, and when Everett pulled away, Milo licked him on the face.
Everett squealed and kicked.
Sound of it reverberating.
Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.
“Ball?” Everett asked, hopping from one topic to another.
A laugh ripped up my throat. “Oh, you remember that do you?”
Great. Now I was goin’ to be the dessert lady. They always said you could win over any man with the promise of food. No wonder Aunt Hope had made a profession out of it.
“Bwue ball? Ehvie, please.” He patted his chest and dipped his head down low in this adorable nod that was doing stupid things to me.
Aunt Hope’s soft voice popped the bubble that I was gettin’ ready to float away in. “Come here, Everett. Are you hungry? Grammy will get you something to eat.”
But he didn’t respond to her. He just crawled right on top of my lap, still on his knees, facing me.
A direct line hooked into my spirit.
He patted my cheeks with both hands, jabbering a slur of words that I couldn’t quite make out but completely understood. Something about a ball and his daddy and the puppy. Like a fool, I was brushing my fingers through his hair and inhaling deep and wishing everything didn’t hurt so bad. Whole time praying all the prayers I could find that he was fine. Healthy. That this beautiful child wouldn’t be stolen away.
I curled an arm around him like I could stop it from happening, and then my heart rammed against my ribs when I felt the presence approach.
Energy pulsing.
A shockwave through the heated air.
A shadow covered us whole.
Obliterating.
Penetrating.
A cyclone of that energy speeding across the ground.
Caught in a landslide of it, I peeked up.
Evan’s jaw was clenched with restraint and his eyes were filled with need. Swore I could still feel the magnitude of his promise that had sent me into hiding for the last three days, unsure I could resist the pull of it.
You belong with me.
“Don’t get too cozy with that baby, Frankie Leigh. Think we’re not quite ready for that, yeah?” Jack’s voice hit from the side. “Don’t mind the practice, though.”
I wanted to vomit.
Only saving grace was the fact that Evan had been staring at Everett and me the whole time and wouldn’t have heard the profanity.
“Yo, Jack, catch.” Josiah called him by his first name. He didn’t give him time to prepare before the football was pelting the side of his head and ricocheting off to tumble onto the sand.
Jack’s hand flew to the spot, anger spewing out. “What the fuck, dude?”
“Ooops, my bad,” Josiah said, lifting his hands like he hadn’t done it on purpose.
Everett spun toward the action, pointed wildly, laughing and stamping his little feet that were chubbier than his hands. He turned to me, dramatically nodding his head and patting at his chest. “Ball! Ehvie, please, ball!”
Oh.
That ball.
I started to get up to go for it, when Evan took a step forward.
Then another.
I was glued to the spot.
Evan leaned down low, his chest and shoulders and those abs all up in my face.
Damn it all if I didn’t want to paint every inch of his exposed flesh with my tongue.
Evan angled his head, his eyes narrowed like he was having a hard time being in my space too when he reached down and picked Everett up from under his arms.
“Come here, Chunky Monk. Daddy will play ball with you,” he murmured in that raspy voice.
He kept me pinned with that unrelenting gaze as he slowly pushed back to standing, heated eyes sweeping me head to toe, lingering on my breasts that I didn’t realize were spilling out.
Okay. So spilling was an exaggeration. There wasn’t a lot there to brag about. But Evan was staring at them like they were an all-you-can-eat feast.
I readjusted my top that Everett had dislodged.
Swiveling away, Evan strode toward Jack who was still mumbling about getting sucker-punched by a ball, the ball Evan dipped down and snagged without saying a word, moving to where the sand was softer.
He set Everett on his feet. The little guy bounced at his knees and clapped his hands over his head, his tiny fingers wiggling like he was fully prepared to catch a pass.
Evan pretended like he tossed it, soaring it through the air before he carefully placed it in Everett’s hands.
Everett’s squeals filled the air with a ridiculous amount of delight. My head filled with worry for my well-being, my teeth back to chewing off my bottom lip.