Joker wrapped his arms around me, shoved his face in my neck, and still connected to me, burst out laughing, his amusement rocking through me in a way it became part of me and that was in a way I’d never forget.
Aaron had never done that. Aaron and I had never, ever had a moment like that. That simple. That remarkable. That memorable. That beautiful.
Joker’s laughter reduced to chuckles and he kissed my neck.
“To do list tomorrow, promise ring and stock up on condoms,” he muttered.
“I approve of this list,” I told him.
I could feel, actually feel, him smile against my skin.
I slid my hands along his arms and held him to me.
We stayed like that, naked, intimate, connected, and I wanted to shout my joy that he wanted that at the same time giving it to me.
So only when the time was right did he slide out gently, turn me in his arms, settle me back in bed, and kiss my temple before he pulled the covers up and said, “Be right back.”
“Okay, sweetie.”
That bought me a brief kiss on the lips before he did just what he said.
He was in bed beside me, gathering me close when he asked, “You want your panties?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Pure Joker, he twisted, reached to the floor and got them for me.
I pulled them on under the covers.
“Nightshirt?” he asked.
“It’s under the pillow.”
“Butterfly, just sayin’, you got a great body and that thing does nothin’ for it.”
“Well, it wouldn’t, it’s my preggers nightie.”
“It’s gotta go.”
I blinked through the dark as he again folded me in his arms.
“Travis isn’t in your belly, Carrie. You’re a mom, but you’re also a beautiful woman with a beautiful body and a man in her bed who appreciates both. Lose it.”
“I, well…” I mentally inventoried my drawers and wondered if my pre-baby nighties would look good. I hadn’t tried them. Not one. They were cute and some were cute/sexy so I had no reason to try them.
Until now.
“Okay,” I finished.
“Now, you good with just panties?”
I felt his hard body tight against mine, his arms pulling me mostly on him, and I rested against his chest as I pressed my arms to his sides and my cheek to his shoulder.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I’m good with just panties.”
To show his approval, he dipped his hand inside said panties and again cupped my bottom.
I sighed.
My body was loosening, my eyes drooping, when Joker called, “Carrie?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Means everything, fuckin’ everything, you’d want to pull out all the stops to take on my dad for me. Got men who wear a cut who’d do that for me. Some people from back in the day. And you. That’s it. And you gotta know, it means everything.”
I closed my eyes tight, turned my head, pressed my lips against the base of his throat and said there, “Good.”
“Still don’t want you doin’ dick.”
I grinned and settled back, cheek to shoulder. “I won’t.”
“Good,” he muttered, giving my behind a squeeze.
“Though, if I ever see your dad, even though I have no idea what he looks like, I won’t be responsible for sending him a killing look.”
There was a smile in his voice when he returned, “That you can do.”
“And if he should later turn up with his car keyed, I’ll say now, it wasn’t me.”
His body shook, I gloried in it, though his humor had no noise.
But the smile was deep in his voice when he ordered, “Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Just to say, I’m going to do that but only because I was going to do that anyway.”
“If you were, why aren’t you shuttin’ up?”
“I was just saying it just to say.”
“You’re still not shuttin’ up.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“And still,” he pointed out.
I lifted my head and snapped, “Joker!”
He caught me at the back of my head, pulled me in, lifted up, and gave me a hard, sweet, short kiss.
Then he tucked my cheek back to his shoulder, my forehead in the side of his neck, and said, “Now shut up and go to sleep.”
I grinned at his throat.
Then I shut up, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
End of Story
Carissa
WITH AN INSTINCT born in me the second Aaron’s swimmers fertilized my egg, that next Monday, I knew my son was on his way to the front door without me even seeing him through the window.
Thus, after a week that included me getting myself and my boy into a great new house, only one double shift since LeLane’s flu epidemic was settling down, and a whole lot of time spent with my awesome new boyfriend, I was lounging (more like fidgeting with anticipation) while Joker hung out with me on my couch.
So, with excitement at what would herald an even better week—that being having my son back—I pushed up, planted a knee, and threw myself over Joker and the back of the couch.
Unfortunately, when I did this I heard Joker grunt. This gave me the uncomfortable feeling I’d planted said knee somewhere in Joker. Therefore, when my bare feet hit the floor at the back of the couch, I stopped my mad dash and looked at him.
“Jesus, Carrie,” he muttered, pushing up while looking at me, lips quirking, one hand to his stomach.
“Sorry,” I whispered, then grinned, “Travis is home.”
I got a return grin that said more than his lips quirking that he wasn’t angry with me, so I bent in, grabbed his head on either side, gave him a quick kiss, let him go, and ran to the door.
The bell rang right when I got to it.
I unlocked it and pulled it open.
And there was Aaron, not Tory, holding Travis in his arm, his diaper bag looped on Aaron’s shoulder.
Aaron stood tall, as usual, but he’d taken off his suit and was in jeans and a nice shirt that was pink and worked well with his coloring.
I saw this but mostly I saw my baby.
Lifting up my hands, I clapped them quietly in front of me, smiling at my son.
Then I held my hands out to him. “Hey, Googly. Welcome to your new home.”