Merry Ever After (Under The Mistletoe Collection #2) by Tessa Bailey

Author:Tessa Bailey [Bailey, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781662528736
Amazon: B0D9KL14L4
Goodreads: 220389465
Publisher: Amazon Original Stories
Published: 2024-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five Evie

Luke holds the baby all through dinner.

He eats with one hand and cradles a sleepy Sonny against his shoulder with the other, and I’m starting to wonder if this man is even real. I’m sitting here at the table, telling him about my childhood travels with my mother and some of the funniest customer interactions I’ve had downstairs, but mentally I’m still standing at the window, looking down at the bike with the big red bow and the baby seat.

I’ve never received such a beautiful gift.

It checks so many boxes that I hadn’t thought to check myself. The bike gives me freedom, gives me options for traveling places. Sonny will get fresh air and sunshine and core memories on the back of that bike. It looks expensive, too. Brand new. Shiny. Gears on the handlebars. I shouldn’t accept the bike, but . . .

I think maybe I want to be able to go see Luke more easily.

Just for a booty call, obviously, but still. Beats walking.

There’s a little voice in the back of my head calling me a liar for writing him off as a casual lover, but I’m ignoring it. Staunchly. I made a promise to myself and Sonny to protect us from temporary interlopers like his father. Like my father. I can’t be bought with a bicycle. I’m not going to cave thanks to his big-boy mystique.

Why am I so turned on watching him eat his fourth grilled cheese?

There’s something about the grit of his body, the deep tan, the workingman’s muscles, those watchful brown eyes. His sincerity when he talks about his family or the farm. Or anything, really. The way his hand makes my soupspoon look like it belongs to a children’s Playskool tea party set. There’s just something about him, period.

“Baby’s asleep,” Luke rumbles quietly. “You want to lay him down?”

I nod and stand, alarmed to feel my legs are a bit like jelly. “We share a room,” I say needlessly, waving him toward the single bedroom in the apartment. “When he gets bigger, I’ll have to figure something out.”

Luke hums. “I’m sure you will.”

“I’m glad one of us is.” I indicate the crib in the corner of the room, and Luke passes by me, his gaze sweeping the space and taking everything in: The half-finished blouse pinned to a headless mannequin beside my thrifted dresser. The jade-green peel-and-stick wallpaper. My floral bedspread. The silk robe hanging from a hook on my closet. The baby-changing table stocked with diapers, wipes, and clean onesies. “I try to put away half the money I make from selling my designs into a house fund. We’ll see. I’d love for him to have a yard. Space to run around.”

“I’ve got plenty of that. Space.” He straightens up from laying Sonny down in the crib. Looks at me. “Anytime you want to use it, sweetheart.”

That jelly feeling in my legs is spreading like wildfire. I’ve never been jelly for anyone.

I don’t know if I like it yet.

“What exactly are you hoping for here?” I whisper as he comes closer.

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